How John Quit The Farm (James Whitcomb Riley Poems)
Nobody on the old farm here but Mother, me and John, Except, of course, the extry he'p when harvest-time come on-- And ...
Nobody on the old farm here but Mother, me and John, Except, of course, the extry he'p when harvest-time come on-- And ...
It's a mystery to see me--a man o' fifty-four,Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and more--A-lookin' glad ...
Of all the doctors I could cite you to in this-'ere town Doc Sifers is my favorite, jes' take him up ...
I hain't no great detective, like yer read about,--the kindThat solves a whole blame murder case by footmarks left behind;But ...
It's many's the scenes which is dear to my mindAs I think of my childhood so long left behind;The home ...
Old Bob White's a funny bird!-- Funniest you ever heard!-- Hear him whistle,--"Old--Bob--_White_!" You can hear him, clean from where He's 'way 'crosst the ...
O, it's Christmas Eve, and moonlight, and the Christmas air is chill,And the frosty Christmas holly shines and sparkles on ...
When the farm work's done, at the set of sun, And the supper's cleared away,And Ma, she sits on the porch ...
An'—wilt—yeh—take—this—woman—fer—to—be Yer—wedded—wife?— . . . O, strike me! Will I wot?Take 'er? Doreen? 'E stan's there arstin' me! As if ...
'Eroes? Orright. You 'ave it 'ow yeh like. Throw up yer little 'at an' come the glad;But not too much ...
Ole Mother Moon 'oo yanks 'er beamin' dile Acrost the sky when we've grown sick o' day,She's like some fat ...
Ho! the sky's as blue as blazes an' the sun is shinin' bright, An' the dicky birds is singin' over'ead,An' ...
Ah Gawd! It makes me sick to think Of what I 'eard an' seen;Poor 'Arry like a wet rag flung ...
So nice it is of you to call . . . Yes; Monday week we done it;Right 'igh-clarse weddin' ...
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