I tell you what I'd ruther do-- Ef I only had my ruthers,-- I'd ruther work when I wanted to Than be bossed round by others;-- I'd ruther kindo' git the swing O' what was _needed_, first, I jing! Afore I _swet_ at anything!-- Ef I only had my ruthers;-- In fact I'd aim to be the same With all men as my brothers; And they'd all be the same with _me_-- Ef I only had my ruthers. I wouldn't likely know it all-- Ef I only had my ruthers;-- I'd know _some_ sense, and some base-ball-- Some _old_ jokes, and--some others: I'd know _some politics_, and 'low Some tarif-speeches same as now, Then go hear Nye on "Branes and How To Detect Theyr Presence." _T'others_, That stayed away, I'd _let_ 'em stay-- All my dissentin' brothers Could chuse as shore a kill er cuore, Ef I only had my ruthers. The pore 'ud git theyr dues _some_times-- Ef I only had my ruthers,-- And be paid _dollars_ 'stid o' _dimes_, Fer childern, wives and mothers: Theyr boy that slaves; theyr girl that sews-- Fer _others_--not herself, God knows!-- The grave's _her_ only change of clothes! ... Ef I only had my ruthers, They'd all have "stuff" and time enugh To answer one-another's Appealin' prayer fer "lovin' care"-- Ef I only had my ruthers. They'd be few folks 'ud ast fer trust, Ef I only had my ruthers, And blame few business-men to bu'st Theyrselves, er harts of others: Big Guns that come here durin' Fair- Week could put up jest anywhare, And find a full-and-plenty thare, Ef I only had my ruthers: The rich and great 'ud 'sociate With all theyr lowly brothers, Feelin' _we_ done the honorun-- Ef I only had my ruthers. ON A DEAD BABE Fly away! thou heavenly one!-- I do hail thee on thy flight! Sorrow? thou hath tasted none-- Perfect joy is yourn by right. Fly away! and bear our love To thy kith and kin above! I can tetch thy finger-tips Ca'mly, and bresh back the hair From thy forr'ed with my lips, And not leave a teardrop thare.-- Weep fer _Tomps and Ruth_--and _me_-- But I can not weep fer _thee_. A OLD PLAYED-OUT SONG It's the curiousest thing in creation, Whenever I hear that old song "Do They Miss Me at Home," I'm so bothered, My life seems as short as it's long!-- Fer ev'rything 'pears like adzackly It 'peared in the years past and gone,-- When I started out sparkin', at twenty, And had my first neckercher on!