From Virginia Reel, Volume 1 (Charlottesville: University of Virginia, May 15, 1920), page 21:


HOW COULD IT DID?

It was midnight on the ocean,
Not a street car was in sight,
The sun was shinging [sic] brightly,
And it rained all day that night.

It was a summer's day in winter,
And the rain was snowing fast,
As a barefoot girl with shoes on
Stood sitting in the grass.

It was evening and the rising sun
Was setting in the west,
The little fishes in the trees
Were cuddled in their nests.

The rain was pouring down,
The sun was shinging [sic] bright,
And everything that could be seen
Was hidden out of sight.

While the organ peeled potatoes,
Lard was rendered by the choir,
As the sexton rang the dish-rag
Some one set the church on fire.

"Holy smoke," the preacher shouted,
In the rain he lost his hair,
Now his head resembles heaven—
For there is no parting there.

—Phi Delta Phi Show and others.

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Ax-I-Dent-Ax, Volume 6 (Midvale, Utah: United States Smelting, Refining, and Mining Company, June 22, 1920), No. 12, page 12:


A MIX-UP

'Twas a wintry day in summer,
The rain was snowing fast,
When a barefoot boy with shoes on
Sat standing on the grass.

While the organ peeled potatoes,
Lard was rendered by the choir,
While the sexton rang the dish rag,
Someone set the church afire.

"Holy Smoke" the preacher shouted,
And in the rush he lost his hair.
Now his head resembles heaven
For there is no parting there.

His death, which happened in his berth,
At forty-odd befell,
They went and told the sexton,
And the sexton tolled the bell.

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From The Independent, Volume 103 (New York: Independent Corporation, Sept. 18, 1920), page 325:


It was midnight on the ocean.
Not a street car was in sight;
The sun was shining brightly,
For it rained all day that night.

We walked along a country road
In a city dry and dusty.
And piling thru the awful mud
Sure made our axles rusty.

We came upon a farmer's house,
No dwelling could we see;
The busy farmer plowed his field,
An idle man was he.

'Twas a zero day in summer,
The rain felt just like glass,
A barefoot boy with shoes on
Stood sitting in the grass.

We asked him for some water,
He brought us wine instead:
"Miracles will never cease,"
The deaf and dumb boy said.

—Sun Dial.


The same poem, with the same attribution "Sun Dial" appeared in Labor Digest, Volume 12 (Minneapolis: E. E. Stevens, Oct., 1920), page 45.

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From Boy's Life, (New York: Boy Scouts of America, June, 1921) page 28:


CLEAR AS MUD

'Twas midnight on the ocean,
Not a street car was in sight,
The sun and moon shone brightly,
While it rained all day that night.

For in the summer snowstorm
When the rain flowed just like glass,
A barefoot boy with shoes on
Stood sitting in the grass.

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From The Whitin Spindle, Volume 3 (Whitinsville, Mass.: Employees of the Whitin Machine Works, Feb. 1922), No. 7, page 11:


MIDNIGHT ON THE OCEAN

(Note:—The following is from the sub-base ballast of the Coco Colo Canal Zone. If Balboa beer does this to people, we are fortunate to be in Hawaii.)

'Twas midnight on the ocean, not a horse-car was in sight,
When I stepped into the corner store to get myself a light.

The man behind the counter was a woman old and grey,
Who used to sell bananas on the road to Mandalay.

She said, "Hello there, stranger"; her eyes were dry with tears,
And she put her head beneath her feet and stood that way for years.

Her children were all orphans except one tiny tot,
Who lived alone across the street above a vacant lot.

As we gazed out through an open door, a whale went drifting by;
His legs were hanging in the air, he wore a green necktie.

The quietness of the noise was still, the evening star was dawning,
A dead horse galloped up and said, "We won't get home 'til morning."

"Women and children first," he cried, as he passed his plate for more;
He took his hat from off the rack and hung it on the floor:

An axe came walking through the air, the clock struck twenty-six,
I turned my eyes toward the sky and saw a flock of bricks.

And they buried him in the evening when the grass was parched with dew,
And he took his razor with him in case his whiskers grew.

---

From The Modern Woodman, Volume 39 (Rock Island, Ill.: Modern Woodmen of America, Feb. 1922), Issue 2, page 38:


A LITTLE NONSENSE NOW AND THEN.

At a reception recently tendered to Hon. Joseph A. Langfit, Grand Regent of the Royal Arcanum for Pennsylvania, the meeting was entertained by the reading of the following original poem by Vice Regent W. G. Stevenson, which contains more contradictions to the column inch than any other within the writer's knowledge:

It was midnight on the ocean.
Not a street car was in sight.
The sun was shining brightly,
And it rained all day that night.

'Twas a summer's day in winter,
And the snowflakes fell like glass.
A barefoot boy with shoes on
Stood sitting on the grass.

'Twas evening and the rising sun
Was setting in the west,
And the little fishes in the trees
Were huddling in their nests.

The rain was pouring down
And the moon was shining bright,
And everything that you could see
Was hidden nut of sight.

While the organ peeled potatoes,
Lard was rendered by the choir.
As the sexton rang the dish rag,
Someone set the church on fire.

"Holy smokes!" the preacher cried.
In the rain he lost his hair.
Now his head resembles heaven,
For there is no parting there.

—W. G. Stevenson.

[I am skeptical of the attribution to Stevenson.--JD]

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From The American Flint, Volume 13 (Toledo, Ohio: American Flint Glass Workers' Union of North America, April, 1922), page 38:

"from one of the Port Jervis papers some time ago"

A RAVING RHYME

'Twas a nice day in October,
Last September in July;
The moon lay thick upon the ground,
The mud shown in the sky.

The flowers were singing sweetly,
The birds were full of bloom,
So I went into the cellar
To sweep an upstairs room.

The time was Tuesday morning,
On Wednesday just at night;
I saw a thousand miles away
A house just out of sight.

The walls projected backwards,
The front was round the back;
It stood alone with others,
The fence was whitewashed black.

It was moonlight on the ocean.
Not a street car was in sight;
The sun was shining brightly
And it rained all day that night.

It was summer in the winter,
And the rain was falling fast;
A barefoot boy with shoes on
Stood sitting on the grass.

It was evening and the rising
Stood setting in the night;
And everything that I could see,
Was hidden from my sight.

---

From Carpenter, Volume 42 (Indianapolis: United Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners of America, Sept., 1922), No. 9, page 31:

A CRAZY RECITATION.

It was midnight on the ocean,
Not a street car was in sight;
The sun was shining brightly,
And it rained all day that night.
It was evening and the rising sun
was setting in the west;
The fishes in the pine trees
Were cuddled in their nest.

'Twas a summer day in winter,
The snow was raining fast,
A barefoot girl with shoes on
Was sitting on the grass.
The rain was pouring downward,
The moon was shining bright,
And everything that you could see
Was hidden out of sight.

While the organ peeled potatoes,
Lard was rendered by the choir;
While the sexton rang the dish rag,
Some one set the church on fire.
"Holy smoke!" the parson shouted.
And the poor guy lost his hair;
Now his head is just like Heaven,
For there is no parting there.

—The Kablegram.


The same poem is also printed in Mixer and Server, Volume 31 (Cincinnati: Hotel and Restaurant Employes' International Alliance and Bartenders' International League of America, Nov. 15, 1922), Number 11, page 51.