Baled Hay: A Drier Book than Walt Whitman's "Leaves o' Grass"Nye, Bill
General
Baled Hay: A Drier Book than Walt Whitman's "Leaves o' Grass"
Nye, Bill
American wit and humor
The bobolink sits on the basswood vines, and the thrush in the
gooseberry tree is as melodious as a hired man. The robin is building
his nest--or rather her nest, I should say, perhaps--in the boughs
of the old willow that was last year busted by thunder--I beg your
pardon--by lightning, I should say. The speckled calf dines teat-a-teat
with his mother, and strawberries are like a baldheaded man's brow--they
come high, but we can't get along without them.
I never was more tickled to meet gentle spring than I am now. It
stirs up my drug-soaked remains, and warms the genial current of life
considerably. I frolicked around in the grass this afternoon and filled
my pockets full of 1000-legged worms, and other little mementoes of
the season. The little hare-foot boy now comes forth and walks with
a cautious tread at first, like a blind horse; but toward the golden
autumn the backs of his feet will look like a warty toad, and there will
be big cracks in them, and one toe will be wrapped up in part of a bed
quilt, and he will show it with pride to crowded houses.
Last night I lay awake for several hours thinking about Mr. Sherrod and
how long we had been separated, and I was wondering how many weary days
would have to elapse before we would again look into each other's eyes
and hold each other by the hand, when the loud and violent concussion of
a revolver shot near West Main street and Cascade avenue rent the sable
robe of night. I rose and lit the gas to see if I had been hit. Then
I examined my pockets to see if I had been robbed of my led pencil and
season pass. I found that I had not.
This morning I learned that a young doctor, who had been watching his
own house from a distance during the evening, had discovered that,
taking advantage of the husband's absence, a blonde dry goods clerk had
called to see the crooked but lonely wife. The doctor waited until
the young man had been in the house long enough to get pretty well
acquainted, and then he went in himself to see that the youth was making
himself perfectly comfortable.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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