Pixley Folks
SOMETIMES I git to thinkin’ o’ the days o’ youth, an’ then
There comes a-troopin’ through my mind th’ wimmin folk an’ men
I used ter know in Pixley, an’ I sit with 'em awhile,
A-livin’ all th’ fun we knew before we put on style;
A-dancin’ all th’ dances, th’ lancers an’ q’drilles,
A-goin’ to th’ buskin’ bees an’ picnics on th’ hills,
An’ I quite ferget I 'm livin’ on a crowded city street,
Where I don’t know a quarter of th’ people that I meet.
I settle in my arm chair, an’ I light my meerschaum pipe,
An’ then I 'm back in Pixley with the apples red an’ ripe.
I 'm makin’ eyes at Agnes, which is wrong I must allow,
Coz she was married long ago an’ has four babies now.
An’ I 'm pokin’ fun at Lydy, who was in for any joke,
But she has married wealthy—still out yonder in th’ smoke
She is still the laughin’ lassie, free from all the haughty airs
That wimmin folk think needful when they marry millionaires.
Then I steal a kiss from Nellie, an’ I hear her say ‘No, no!’
Th’ way she did a thousand times, but never meant it, though.
An’ again from church we 're comin’, an’ th’ hour is gettin’ late
An’ we stand awhile a-gabbin’, she a-swingin’ on th’ gate,
A-tellin’ of her uncles an’ her aunts, an’ how they were,
While all that I was wan tin’ was to stay an’ talk of her.
An’ again I 'm gettin’ ready jes’ to ask her to be mine,
An’ again she ups an’ leaves me, sayin’ 'Ed, it’s after nine.”
O, I tell you what! It’s funny, when I think about it all,
An’ I kinder get to broodin’ an’ th’ old days I recall
When there warn’t no automobiles, warn’t no problem plays an’ such,
When th’ only fault with young folks was they loved t’ play too much;
When there warn’t no style about us, one warn’t richer than another,
When we didn’t think of money, never snubbed a poorer brother;
An’ to see 'em now with riches, an’ ashamed to even say
That they ever lived in Pixley—Why, my soul is there today!
Altre opere di Edgar Albert Guest...
