Et Canadisk lokumsrim, et af de bedre: Passing of the Backhouse Af James Whitcomb Riley. When memory keeps me Company and moves to smile or Tears, A weather-beaten object looms through the mist of years, Behind the house and barn it stood, a half a mile or more, And hurrying feet a path had made, straight to its swinging door. Its architecture was a type of simple classic art But in the tragedy of life it played a leading part. And oft the passing traveller drove slowe and heaved a sigh To see the modest hired girl slip out with glances shy. We had our poesy garden that the women loved so well; I loved it too, but better still I loved the stronger smell That filled the evening breezes so full of homely cheer, And told the night-o`retaken tramp that human life was near. On lazy August afternoons it made a little bower Delightful, where my grandsirer sat and whiled away an hour, For there the summer mornings, its very cares entwined And berry bushes reddened in the streaming soil behind. All day fat spiders spun their webs to catch the buzzing flies That flitted to and from the House, where Ma was baking pies; And once a swarm of hornets bold had built their place there, And stung my unsuspecting Aunt --I must not tell you where. My father took a flaming pole --- that was a happy day – He nearly burned the building up, but the hornets left to stay. When summer bloom began to fade and winter to carouse, we banked the little building with a heap of hemlock boughs. But when the crust is on the snow and sullen skies were gray, Inside the building was no place where one could wish to stay. We did our duties promptly, there one purpose swayed the mind; We tarried not, nor lingered long, on what we left behind. The torture of the icy seat would make a Spartan sob, For needs must scrape the flesh with a lacerating cob, That from a frost-encrusted nail suspended from a string— My father was a frugal man and wasted not a thing. When Grandpa had to “go out Back” and makes his morning Call, We´d bundle up the dear old Man with a muffer and a shawl I knew the hole on which he sat -- ´twas padded all around, And once I tried to sit there – ´twas all too wide I found, My loins were all too little, and I Jack-knifed there to stay, They had to come and get me out, or I´d have passed away, My father said ambition was a thing that boys should shun, And I just used the children´s hole ´til childhood days were done. And still I marvel at the craft that cut those holes so true, The baby´s hole, and the slender hole that fitted Sister Sue, That dear old country Landmark; I tramped around a bit, And in the lap of luxury my lot has been to sit, But ere I die I´ll eat the fruits of trees I robbed of yore, Then seek the shanty where my name is carved upon the door. I ween that old familiar smell will soothe my jaded soul, I´m now a man, but none the less I´ll try the children´s hole.

Historien om "Allsång på Skansen" 2007 Måndagen den 14. augusti 2006 Till SVT och Anders Lundin Om Allsång på Skansen. Vi hörde och såg säsonavslutningen, som också bekräftade vad vi bedömt vara Er strävan: att låta unisonsången få större utrymme. Samfundet för Unison Sång bildades efter unionsupplösningen 1905-1906, för att genom sång verka för at stärka modet och samhörigheten bland svenska folket. Fröet till begreppet ”allsång” kan vi datera 18. juni 1927. Det var Dagens Nyheters sportschef, David Jonason, som hade varit på fotboll i England och hört något som kallades ”community singing”. En Tävling anordnades av DN där ett bra svenskt ord för denna företeelse efterlystes, och vann gjorde kyrkoherde (sognepræst) Manne Eriksson med ”allsång”. 1935 organiseredes på Skansen de förste allsångskvällarna under ledning av musikdirektören och kantorn Sven Lilja och dessa blev mönsterbildande för allsången inom olika folkrörelser. På 50-tallet mattades aktiviteten av, och det hele såg ut at tyna bort, men i 195r7 återuppstod allsångenskvällarna igen med hjälp av Sverige Radio och Egon Kjerman. Därefter har Bosse larsson, Lasse Berghagen och nu senast Du, Anders, hållit i trådarna, och evenemangen har samlat deltagere i totalt oanad utsträkning. De bästa hälsningar, för SAMFUNDET FÖR UNISON SÅNG Birger Källén & Torsten Selén