It's lonesome--sorto' lonesome,--it's a _Sund'y-day_, to me, It 'pears-like--more'n any day I nearly ever see!-- Yit, with the Stars and Stripes above, a-flutterin' in the air, On ev'ry Soldier's grave I'd love to lay a lilly thare. They say, though, Decoration Days is giner'ly observed 'Most _ev'rywhares_--espeshally by soldier-boys that's served.-- But me and Mother's never went--we seldom git away,-- In p'int o' fact, we're _allus_ home on _Decoration Day_. They say the old boys marches through the streets in colum's grand, A-follerin' the old war-tunes they're playin' on the band-- And citizuns all jinin' in--and little childern, too-- All marchin', under shelter of the old Red White and Blue.-- With roses! roses! roses!--everybody in the town!-- And crowds o' little girls in white, jest fairly loaded down!-- Oh! don't THE BOYS know it, from theyr camp acrost the hill?-- Don't they see theyr com'ards comin' and the old flag wavin' still? Oh! can't they hear the bugul and the rattle of the drum?-- Ain't they no way under heavens they can rickollect us some? Ain't they no way we can coax 'em, through the roses, jest to say They know that ev'ry day on earth's theyr Decoration Day? We've tried that--me and Mother,--whare Elias takes his rest, In the orchurd--in his uniform, and hands acrost his brest, And the flag he died fer, smilin' and a-ripplin' in the breeze Above his grave--and over that,--_the robin in the trees_! And _yit_ it's lonesome--lonesome!--It's a _Sund'y-day_, to _me_, It 'pears-like--more'n any day I nearly ever see!-- Still, with the Stars and Stripes above, a-flutterin' in the air, On ev'ry Soldier's grave I'd love to lay a lilly thare. THE TREE-TOAD "'S cur'ous-like," said the tree-toad, "I've twittered fer rain all day; And I got up soon, And hollered tel noon-- But the sun, hit blazed away, Tell I jest clumb down in a crawfish-hole, Weary at hart, and sick at soul! "Dozed away fer an hour, And I tackled the thing agin: And I sung, and sung, Tel I knowed my lung Was jest about give in; And _then_, thinks I, ef hit don't rain _now_, They's nothin' in singin', anyhow! "Onc't in a while some farmer Would come a-drivin' past; And he'd hear my cry, And stop and sigh-- Tel I jest laid back, at last, And I hollered rain tel I thought my th'oat Would bust wide open at ever' note! "But I _fetched_ her!--O _I fetched_ her!-- 'Cause a little while ago, As I kindo' set, With one eye shet, And a-singin' soft and low, A voice drapped down on my fevered brain, A-sayin',--'_Ef you'll jest hush I'll rain!_'" THE ROSSVILLE LECTUR' COURSE