on a poem by Josephine Pollard, text edited by Frank DiGiacomo. Photogrtaphy by Rick Powers.

This song was written for and dedicated to Mr. Donald Kawash, a brilliant pianist and well-known performer of turn-of-the-century ballads. During a visit to Philadelphia, Mr. DiGiacomo had the pleasure of hearing Mr. Kawash and his partner perform, after which they suggested that he try his hand at writing a humorous nineteenth century narrative-ballad. The result is this song, based on an authentic turn-of-the-century text by Josephine Pollard.

The live recording is also the first performance, by Christine Klemperer, accompanied by Frank DiGiacomo, at An Evening of Song by Frank DiGiacomo, May 18, 1979 at the Carrier Theater of the Mulroy Civic Center, Syracuse, New York.

LYRICS
All day the wife had been toiling, from an early hour in the morn,
and her hands and her feet were weary with the burdens that she had borne;
but she said to herself: “The trouble that weighs on my mind is this -
that Tom never thinks to give me a comforting hug or a kiss.
I’m willing to do my duty, to use all my strength and skill
in making our home attractive, in striving my place to fill;
but though the approval of conscience is sweet, I’m free to say,
that if Tom would give me a hug and a kiss,
a hug and a kiss, t’would take all the tired away.”
Then she counted over and over the years she had been Tom’s wife,
and thought of the joys and sorrows she had know in her married life;
to be sure, there was plenty of money, and never a lack of food,
but a kiss now and then and a word of praise would have done her a world of good.
Ah! Many a one is longing for words that are never said;
and many a heart goes hungry for something better than bread.
But Tom had an inspiration, and when he went home that day,
he petted his wife and kissed her in the old-time lover-like way.
And she! - such enigmas are women! - who had held herself up with pride,
at her husband’s display of fondness just hung on his neck and cried.
And he, by her grief reminded of troubles he might have shared,
said: “Bless my heart! What a fool I’ve been, what a fool I’ve been!
And I didn’t suppose you cared!
Bless my heart, bless my heart! I didn’t suppose you cared!”

from Beautiful Gems of Thought and Sentiment, complied by Henry Davenport Northrup, American Publishing Company, Cleveland Ohio, 1890.