Sence I tuk holt o’ Gibbses’ Chu… And be’n a-handlin’ the concern, I’ve travelled round the grand old… Of Indiany, lots, o’ late—! I’ve canvassed Crawferdsville and…

Sometimes I keep From going to sleep, To hear the katydids ‘cheep-cheep!… And think they say Their prayers that way;

W’y, one time wuz a little-weenty… An’ she wuz named Red Riding Hoo… Her _Ma_ she maked a little red c… 'At turnt up over her head—An’ it… Ist one piece o’ red cardinal ‘at…

_You who to the rounded prime_ _Of a life of toil and stress_, _Still have kept the morning-time_ _Of glad youth in heart and spirit… _So your laugh, as children hear i…

Where are they?—the friends of my… The clear, laughing eyes looking b… And the warm, chubby fingers my pa… As when we raced over Pink pastures of clover,

A day of torpor in the sullen heat Of Summer’s passion: In the slugg… The panting cattle lave their lazy… With drowsy eyes, and dream. Long since the winds have died, an…

Donn Piatt—of Mac-o-chee,— Not the one of History, Who, with flaming tongue and pen, Scathes the vanities of men; Not the one whose biting wit

All seemed delighted, though the e… Of course, than were the children.… Much interchange of mirthful compl… The story-teller said _his_ storie… (Like a bad candle) _best_ when th…

‘Scurious-like,’ said the tree-toa… 'I’ve twittered far rain all day; And I got up soon, And I hollered till noon— But the sun, hit blazed away,

This is 'The old Home by the Mil… Although the old mill, roof and si… The old home, though, and old folk… Old cat-tails, weeds and hartychok… Here, Marg’et, fetch the man a ti…

Sometimes I think 'at Parents doe… Things ist about as bad as _us_— Wite 'fore our vurry eyes, at that… Fer one time Pa he scold’ my Ma 'Cause he can’t find his hat;

I caught but a glimpse of him. Su… And I strayed from the town and i… And walked in a wood, while the no… Where the shadows were cool, and t… Was misty with fragrances stirred…

I bear dis cross dis many a mile. O de cross-bearin’ chile— De cross-bearin’ chile! I bear dis cross 'long many a road Wha’ de pink ain’t bloom’ an’ de g…

He leant against a lamp-post, lost In some mysterious reverie: His head was bowed; his arms were… He yawned, and glanced evasively: Uncrossed his arms, and slowly put

Old friend of mine, whose chiming… Has been the burthen of a rhyme Within my heart since first I cam… To know thee in thy mellow prime; With warm emotions in my breast