You can hear the blackbirds jawin' as they foller up the plow-- Oh, theyr bound to git theyr brekfast, and theyr not a carin' how; So they quarrel in the furries, and they quarrel on the wing-- But theyr peaceabler in pot-pies than any other thing: And it's when I git my shotgun drawed up in stiddy rest, She's as full of tribbelation as a yeller-jacket's nest; And a few shots before dinner, when the sun's a-shinin' right, Seems to kindo'-sorto' sharpen up a feller's appetite! They's been a heap o' rain, but the sun's out to-day, And the clouds of the wet spell is all cleared away, And the woods is all the greener, and the grass is greener still; It may rain again to-morry, but I don't think it will. Some says the crops is ruined, and the corn's drownded out, And propha-sy the wheat will be a failure, without doubt; But the kind Providence that has never failed us yet, Will be on hand onc't more at the 'leventh hour, I bet! Does the medder-lark complain, as he swims high and dry Through the waves of the wind and the blue of the sky? Does the quail set up and whissel in a disappointed way, Er hang his head in silence, and sorrow all the day? Is the chipmuck's health a-failin'?--Does he walk, er does he run? Don't the buzzards ooze around up thare jest like they've allus done? Is they anything the matter with the rooster's lungs er voice? Ort a mortul be complainin' when dumb animals rejoice? Then let us, one and all, be contented with our lot; The June is here this morning, and the sun is shining hot. Oh! let us fill our harts up with the glory of the day, And banish ev'ry doubt and care and sorrow fur away! Whatever be our station, with Providence fer guide, Sich fine circumstances ort to make us satisfied; Fer the world is full of roses, and the roses full of dew, And the dew is full of heavenly love that drips fer me and you. JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY GRACE FOR GARDENS Lord God in Paradise, Look upon our sowing, Bless the little gardens And the good green growing! Give us sun, Give us rain, Bless the orchards And the grain! Lord God in Paradise, Please bless the beans and peas, Give us corn full on the ear-- We will praise Thee, Lord, for these! Bless the blossom And the root, Bless the seed And the fruit! Lord God in Paradise, Over my brown field is seen, Trembling and adventuring. A miracle of green. Send such grace As you know, To keep it safe And make it grow!