Haunts and By-Paths

1919

Haunts and By-Paths is Thorne Smiths only book of poetry. Several of the poems were originally printed in the Naval Reserve Journal, Broadside, while other were printed in the Atlantic and other magazines of the day. Many of the poems tend to deal with Smith's navy days and, while not the best poetry of the time, it serves to show yet another side to his literary style.
Interestingly enough, in Thorne Smith: His Life and Times, Smith makes reference to another collection of poetry he was hoping to get published. Unfortunately, nothing has ever surfaced regarding this. It's also interesting to note that Smith had several of his own poetry scattered throughout his novels. One that comes to mind is Marion's poem, "Mr. Topper Catches the Sun."

A Few Poems from Haunts and By-Paths

SAILOR SAILOR
Swinging solid on his feet, gaunt beneath his coat of tan
Children hail him in the street--"Hello, Mr. Sailor Man!"
Tom or Larry, Dick or Dan, Ladies think him just too sweet
Sailor, sailor from the fleet, Get your pettings while you can
Primed for laughter, love or loot, money jingling in his jeans,
Gamins give a stiff salute as he pipes the dizzy queens.
Hero of the submarines, "Honest, Mamie, ain’t he cute?"
Call that great big devil cute, Why the beggar scrubbed latrines
Golly, what a burley brute, Friendly as the summer sea
Sand street made his nifty suit, Forty-eight ashore has he
Shy at times, a trifle mute, Always with a yarn to spin--
" Naw, I ain’t no raw recruit, talk of women talk of gin--
" Now, when I was in Marseilles I could open your eyes"
Anything from the subs to whales Sets him off on salty lies.
Folks can hear them every day, take the tail for what it’s worth,
In his honest sailor way he’s the salt of all the Earth.
Booming gaily down the street, hat aslant upon his head,
Looking for a place to eat, Earnest searcher for a bed
Comes a sailor from the fleet, Shaved and shorn and shiny red,
He’s a merry sight to meet When he’s paid and when he’s fed
Sailor, sailor from the sea, Proud beneath your Navy blue,
Bound upon a modest spree, Buddy, Admirals envy you.

LIBERTY SONG

I’ve washed me neck
An’ I’ve cashed me check
An’ I’ve got me forty-three.
An’ I’m light and gay
As a mule in May
For I’m bound on liberty.
An’ I’ve got a date with Mamie an’ I’ve got a date
With Sue
An’ I’ve got a date with Nancy and’ wi’ Kate
An’ I’m going to be so busy that I won’t know
What to do,
An’ I’m that confounded anxious I can’t wait.
So, roll, roll, roll along, roll on, sailor, roll.
Roll, roll, roll along, shove off, blast yer soul!
Good-by Buddy, an’ good-by Bo,
Me dogs are itching an’ I got to go
So, roll, roll, roll along, roll on, sailor, roll.
Me tapes are white
An’ me boots are bright
An’ me hat is stiff and straight.
An’ I’ve brushed me bean
An’ I’ve shaved blue clean
An’ the list is on the gate.
Oh, I’m going to spend me money an’ I’m going
To spend it right
Buying sweeties for me wild Canarise pigs,
An’ sometime in the morning or very late at night
I’m going to a pub and dance some jigs.
So, roll, roll, roll along, roll on, sailor, roll.
Roll on, roll along, shove off, blast yer soul !
So long, Buddy, and good-by Bo.
Am I happy ? Well I tell her so.
So roll, roll, roll along, roll on, sailor, roll.

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