Heerd him say one time--when I Was a sorto' standin' by, And the air so still and clear, Heerd the bell fer church clean here!-- Said: "Ef I could climb and set On the old three-cornerd rail Old home-place, nigh Maryette', Swop my soul off, hide and tale!" And-sir! blame ef tear and laugh Didn't ketch him half and half! "Oh!" he says, "to wake and be Bare-foot, in the airly dawn In the pastur'!--thare," says he, "Standin' whare the cow's slep' on The cold, dewy grass that's got _Print_ of her jest steamy hot Fer to warm a feller's heels In a while!--How good it feels! Sund'y!--Country!--Morning!--Hear Nothin' but the _silunce_--see Nothin' but green woods and clear Skies and unwrit poetry By the acre!... Oh!" says he, "What's this voice of mine?--to seek To speak out, and yit _can't_ speak! "_Think!_--the lazyest of days"-- Takin' his contrairyest leap, He went on,--"git up, er sleep-- Er whilse feedin', watch the haze Dancin' 'crost the wheat,--and keep My pipe goin' laisurely-- Puff and whiff as pleases me,-- Er I'll leave a trail of smoke Through _the house_!--no one'll say '_Throw that nasty thing away!_' 'Pear-like nothin' sacerd's broke, Goin' bare-foot ef I chuse!-- I _have fiddled_;--and dug bait And _went fishin'_;--pitched hoss-shoes-- Whare they couldn't see us from The main road.--And I've _beat_ some. I've set round and had my joke With the thrashers at the barn-- And I've swopped 'em yarn fer yarn!-- Er I've he'pped the childern poke Fer hens'-nests--agged on a match 'Twixt the boys, to watch 'em scratch And paw round and rip and tare, And bust buttons and pull hair To theyr rompin' harts' content-- And me jest a-settin' thare Hatchin' out more devilment! "What you s'pose now ort to be Done with sich a man?" says he-- "Sich a fool-old-man as me!" WET-WEATHER TALK It hain't no use to grumble and complane; It's jest as cheap and easy to rejoice.-- When God sorts out the weather and sends rain, W'y, rain's my choice. Men ginerly, to all intents-- Although they're apt to grumble some-- Puts most theyr trust in Providence, And takes things as they come-- That is, the commonality Of men that's lived as long as me Has watched the world enugh to learn They're not the boss of this concern. With _some_, of course, it's different-- I've saw _young_ men that knowed it all, And didn't like the way things went On this terrestchul ball;-- But all the same, the rain, some way, Rained jest as hard on picnic day; Er, when they railly _wanted_ it, It mayby wouldn't rain a bit!