Currant jelly and all that,
For an hour in mother's pantry
I'd give my bran-new hat.

"You wrote about the chickens,
About the crops and hay;
But not a word about the colts--
The black one or the gray.

"Tell father not to worry
About that note at all:
I shall have a hundred dollars
I can send him in the fall.

"You cannot think how proudly
It makes my bosom swell,
To think that I am toiling
For those I love so well.

"Tell mother I remember
Her parting words to me;
And all that she has prayed for
I hope I yet may be.

"The workmen bring the bottle,
They say, 'Just take a sip;'
But, mother, _not a single drop
Shall ever touch my lip._

"Here's a kiss for brother Charley--