Then blow the horn at the old back-door Tel the echoes all halloo, And the childern gethers home onc't more, Jest as they ust to do: Blow fer Pap tel he hears and comes, With Tomps and Elias, too, A-marchin' home, with the fife and drums And the old Red White and Blue! Blow and blow tel the sound draps low As the moan of the whipperwill, And wake up Mother, and Ruth and Jo, All sleepin' at Bethel Hill: Blow and call tel the faces all Shine out in the back-log's blaze, And the shadders dance on the old hewed wall As they did in the airly days. OLD MAN'S NURSERY RHYME I In the jolly winters Of the long-ago, It was not so cold as now-- O! No! No! Then, as I remember, Snowballs to eat Were as good as apples now. And every bit as sweet! II In the jolly winters Of the dead-and-gone, Bub was warm as summer, With his red mitts on,-- Just in his little waist- And-pants all together, Who ever hear him growl About cold weather? III In the jolly winters Of the long-ago-- Was it HALF so cold as now? O! No! No! Who caught his death o' cold, Making prints of men Flat-backed in snow that now's Twice as cold again? IV In the jolly winters Of the dead-and-gone, Startin' out rabbit-huntin'-- Early as the dawn,-- Who ever froze his fingers, Ears, heels, or toes,-- Or'd 'a' cared if he had? Nobody knows! V Nights by the kitchen-stove, Shellin' white and red Corn in the skillet, and Sleepin' four abed! Ah! the jolly winters Of the long-ago! We were not as old as now-- O! No! No! JUNE O queenly month of indolent repose! I drink thy breath in sips of rare perfume, As in thy downy lap of clover-bloom I nestle like a drowsy child and doze The lazy hours away. The zephyr throws The shifting shuttle of the Summer's loom And weaves a damask-work of gleam and gloom Before thy listless feet. The lily blows A bugle-call of fragrance o'er the glade; And, wheeling into ranks, with plume and spear, Thy harvest-armies gather on parade; While, faint and far away, yet pure and clear, A voice calls out of alien lands of shade:-- All hail the Peerless Goddess of the Year! 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!