A FULL HARVEST.

Seems like a feller'd ort‘ o jes’ to-day

Git down and roll and waller, do n't you know,

In that-air stubble, and flop up and crow,

Seein’ sich craps! I'll undertake to say

There're no wheat's ever turned out thataway

Afore this season!— Folks is keerless tho’,

And too fergitful —‘ caze we'd ort‘ o show

More thankfulness!— Jes’ looky hyonder, hey?—

And watch that little reaper wadin’ thue

That last old yaller hunk o’ harvest-ground —

Jes’ natchur'ly a-slicin’ it in-two

Like honey-comb, and gaumin’ it around

The field — like it had nothin’ else to do

On'y jes’ waste it all on me and you!