TOWN AND COUNTRY

They's a predjudice allus‘ twixt country and town

Which I wisht in my hart wasent so.

You take city people, jest square up and down,

And they're mighty good people to know:

And whare's better people a-livin’, to-day,

Than us in the country?— Yit good

As both of us is, we're divorsed, you might say,

And wo n't compermise when we could!

Now as nigh into town fer yer Pap, ef you please,

Is the what's called the sooburbs.— Fer thare

You'll at least ketch a whiff of the breeze and a sniff

Of the breth of wild-flowrs ev'rywhare.

They's room fer the childern to play, and grow, too —

And to roll in the grass, er to climb

Up a tree and rob nests, like they ortent to do,

But they'll do anyhow ev'ry time!

My Son-in-law said, when he lived in the town,

He jest natchurly pined, night and day,

Fer a sight of the woods, er a acre of ground

Whare the trees wasent all cleared away!

And he says to me onc't, whilse a-visitin’ us

On the farm, “It's not strange, I declare,

That we can n't coax you folks, without raisin’ a fuss,

To come to town, visitin’ thare!”

And says I, “Then git back whare you sorto’ belong —

And Madaline, too,— and yer three

Little childern,” says I, “that do n't know a birdsong,

Ner a hawk from a chicky-dee-dee!

Git back,” I-says-I, “to the blue of the sky

And the green of the fields, and the shine

Of the sun, with a laugh in yer voice and yer eye

As harty as Mother's and mine!”

Well — long-and-short of it,— he's compermised some —

He's moved in the sooburbs.— And now

They do n't haf to coax, when they want us to come,

‘ Cause we turn in and go anyhow!

Fer thare — well, they's room fer the songs and purfume

Of the grove and the old orchurd-ground,

And they's room fer the childern out thare, and they's room

Fer theyr Gran'pap to waller‘ em round!