From Rude Rural Rhymes by Bob Adams, New York: The Macmillan Company; 1925; pp. 206-207.
EVERY DAY IN EVERY WAY
I’ll string my lyre and tune a lay
To this French bird they call Cooay*;
Although it rather seems to me
I’ve heard some people say Cooee.
And some, whose pains have gone kaflooey,
Are wont to bless the name of Cooey.
But though I can’t pronounce his name,
I celebrate him just the same.
For in the latest grip attack,
When I lay aching on my back,
Instead of ouches and alases,
Says I “It passes, passes, passes.”
Though some will doubt my word, I guess.
I found it eased me more or less.
I do admit I sometimes yelped,
But still maintain that Cooay helped.
If I had pains within my gizzard
And someone blew in like a blizzard,
And said “You have no pangs, old man;
You’ll stop them if you think you can.”
I should arise from off my cot
And bust his head as like as not.
Yet there are folks both near and far,
[207]
Who are not sick but think they are;
And every dopist, faddist, buggist,
Still seeks the doctor or the druggist
And yells at him for goodness’ sake
To dig up pills for stomach ache,
While everywhere the pessimist
Grinds in our ear his devil’s grist.
I think such people ought to tell
Their inner selves that all is well.
Though easy ’tis for you and me
The darker side of life to see,
From our complainings let us cease
And hear this Frenchman whisper peace;
Repeat each day his hopeful song
And cheer this good old world along.
So every day in every way
Let’s bless the name of good Cooay.
Elf.Ed Notes
* Cooay. — This is a phonetic spelling, for fun, of a French psychologist, named Émile Coué, who discovered the placebo effect, and also the power of autosuggestion to help a person become better. He is much better known in France and Europe than in America. Bill Thayer kindly steered me to the correct spelling.