An’ then they’s jams an’ jellies, a fluffy heap o’ bread, Hot corncake tew, ’f yew want it—which yew dew; A leaf o’ curly lettis, or, if yew wish, a head; An’ unyons raw, or peppered in a stew. An’ when yew’ve et thru this ’ere a time or tew or so, An’ drunk three cups o’ coffee ’thout a sigh (Ye never know it’s chic’ry, an’ ye never need ter know), Then, by the Great Lord Harry, comes the pie! Two kinds at Laury’s allers, an’ a hunk o’ cheese with it, An’ top it off with do’nuts, milk, an’ cake; Bill passes yew a teethpick, yew settle back a bit, An’ reely think yew’re gittin’ wide awake. Wal, ye need thet kind o’ fuel, ’cos farm work’s tur’bel grillin’, On freezy days or in a b’ilin’ heat; It ain’t farm life or workin’, ez mos’ fokes thinks, is killin’— It’s when ye cain’t git all ye want ter eat! XI Bill on Seth Watts Seth Watts hed died, an’ Bill was tellin’ us Suthin’ about ’im. Bill he’d be’n a bearer ’t The funerel, an’ now hed jes’ got home, Hung up ’is Sunday clo’es an’ derby hat, And on the way out tew the thrashin’ enjin’ Paid tribute to Seth’s mem’ry. “Me an’ him Hed deakin’d it up thar t’ our church”—he jerked His head toward town—“for twenty years tergether. A right smart moodish feller Seth was, no Mistakin’ thet; I’ve offen saw ’t myself An’ heerd ’is naybers tell. Some mornin’s he Would git up with a feelin’ he must jes’ Be let alone an’ not be ast ter dew One solitary thing by ennyone, No matter who. He tried Almiry (that’s Mis’ Watts) more’n she’d let on. I reckon tho’ She didn’t git ter onderstand him ’s much She might; ’f she’d left ’im be ontil he come Around hisself, they’d both ’a’ be’n all right; A hour or two o’ sleep would fixt ’im up. But ’stid o’thet she ’peared ter feel a call Ter hev him dew a reg’ler mess of chores On them ’ar mornin’s. Wal, he’d stew an’ sw’ar, An’ kick the dawg, an’ onct he said he’s goin’ Ter quit an’ jes’ go off—but knowed he wouldn’t. Almiry’d cry an’ Seth would cuss, an’ then They’d shet the’r lips an’ never say a word Fer mebbe quite a spell, when suthin’ funny (It might ’a’ be’n most ennything) would up An’ happen; Seth would snort, Almiry’d giggle, An’ thet would end his moodin’. That ’ar way O’ doin’ ’s a hull lot better, ’pears ter me, Then fer a man ter never hev no chanct Ter hev a mood, ’f ’e wants ter, ’n know ’t will prob’ly Work out all right somehow.” Bill stopped a minnit, ’N’I seen ’im kind o’ turn an’ look ’t the house, An’ knowed what he was thinkin’ better’n if He’d said it plum ri’t out. His crows-feet showed Up awful plain. Bimeby I seen ’im grin: “I s’pose yew’ve noticed lots o’ fokes, when one The fambly’s daid, sez funny things about ’Im—funny ’cos yew knowed the one diseased