Ma'll tell how she liked that sermon that was on the Golden Rule,
And if I upset my tumbler they won't say a word ter me:--
Yes, a boy can eat in comfort with the minister ter tea!

Say! a minister, you'd reckon, never 'd say what wasn't true;
But that isn't so with ours, and I jest can prove it, too;
'Cause when Sis plays on the organ so it makes yer want ter die,
Why, he sets and says it's lovely; and that, seems ter me, 's a lie:
But I like him all the samey, and I only wish he'd stay
At our house fer good and always, and eat with us every day;
Only think of havin' goodies _every_ evenin'! Jimmi_nee_!
And I'd _never_ git a scoldin' with the minister ter tea!

* * * * *

"YAP"

I've got a little yaller dog, a wuthless kind of chap,
Who jest ain't good fer nothin' but ter eat and sleep and "yap."
Fer all 'round general wuthlessness I never see his beat,
And yet he makes more fuss and noise than all the farm complete.
There ain't a mite of sense inside that yaller hide of his;
But, as _he_ ain't no good, he likes ter pester them that is.
The critters all despise him, but there ain't a one but feels
A little mite oneasy when he's "yappin'" round their heels.

Yer see, he loves ter sneak around behind 'em, out of sight,
And give a sudden snap and snarl as if he meant ter bite;
Of course they know he wouldn't hurt, and only means to scare,
But still, it worries 'em ter know the little scamp is there;