Farm Ballads by Will Carleton
page 40 of 76 (52%)
page 40 of 76 (52%)
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But when I wear the stuff a week, it somehow galls and frets.
I'd rather wear my homespun rig of pepper-salt and gray-- I'll have it on in half a jiff, when I get home to-day. I have no doubt my wife looked out, as well as any one-- As well as any woman could--to see that things was done: For though Melinda, when I'm there, won't set her foot outdoors, She's very careful, when I'm gone, to tend to all the chores. But nothing prospers half so well when I go off to stay, And I will put things into shape, when I get home to-day. The mornin' that I come away, we had a little bout; I coolly took my hat and left, before the show was out. For what I said was naught whereat she ought to take offense; And she was always quick at words and ready to commence. But then she's first one to give up when she has had her say; And she will meet me with a kiss, when I go home to-day. My little boy--I'll give 'em leave to match him, if they can; It's fun to see him strut about, and try to be a man! The gamest, cheeriest little chap, you'd ever want to see! And then they laugh, because I think the child resembles me. The little rogue! he goes for me, like robbers for their prey; He'll turn my pockets inside out, when I get home to-day. My little girl--I can't contrive how it should happen thus-- That God could pick that sweet bouquet, and fling it down to us! My wife, she says that han'some face will some day make a stir; And then I laugh, because she thinks the child resembles her. She'll meet me half-way down the hill, and kiss me, any way; |
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