THE Old Haymow's the place to play Fer boys, when it's a rainy day! I good 'eal ruther be up there Than down in town, er anywhere! When I play in our stable-loft, The good old hay's so dry an' soft, An' feels so fine, an' smells so sweet, I 'most ferget to go an' eat. An' one time onc't I @3did@1 ferget To go tel dinner was all et, -- An' they had shortcake -- an' -- Bud he Hogged up the piece Ma saved fer me! Nen I won't let him play no more In our haymow where I keep store An' got hen-eggs to sell, -- an' shoo The cackle-un old hen out, too! An' nen, when Aunty she was here A-visitun from Rensselaer, An' bringed my little cousin, -- @3he@1 Can come up there an' play with me. But, after while -- when Bud he bets 'At I can't turn no summersetts, I let him come up, ef he can Ac' ha'f-way like a gentleman! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...F. DE SAMARA TO A.G.A. by EMILY JANE BRONTE SIR JOHN FRANKLIN; ON THE CENTOTAPH IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY by ALFRED TENNYSON TO THE RETURNED GIRLS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS DIRGE FOR THE LATE JAMES CURRIE, M.D., OF LIVERPOOL by LUCY AIKEN EYES AND LIPS by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER THE ORIGIN OF SONG-WRITING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD AT CAMDEN by KATHARINE LEE BATES |