WRITIN’ BACK TO THE HOME-FOLKS

My dear old friends — It jes beats all,

The way you write a letter

So's ever’ last line beats the first,

And ever’ next-un's better!—

W'y, ever’ fool-thing you putt down

You make so interestin’,

A feller, readin’ of‘ em all,

Ca n't tell which is the best-un.

It's all so comfortin’ and good,

‘ Pears-like I almost hear ye

And git more sociabler, you know,

And hitch my cheer up near ye

And jes smile on ye like the sun

Acrosst the whole per-rairies

In Aprile when the thaw's begun

And country couples marries.

It's all so good-old-fashioned like

To talk jes like we're thinkin’,

Without no hidin’ back o’ fans

And giggle-un and winkin’,

Ner sizin’ how each-other's dressed —

Like some is allus doin’,—

“Is Marthy Ellen's basque ben turned

Er shore-enough a new-un!” —

Er “ef Steve's city-friend haint jes

‘ A leetle kindo’ - sorto’” —

Er “wears them-air blame eye-glasses

Jes‘ cause he had n't ort to?”

And so straight on, dad-libitum,

Tel all of us feels, someway,

Jes like our “comp'ny” wuz the best

When we git up to come‘ way!

That's why I like old friends like you,—

Jes‘ cause you're so abidin’.—

Ef I was built to live “fer keeps,”

My principul residin’

Would be amongst the folks‘ at kep’

Me allus thinkin’ of‘ em,

And sorto’ eechin’ all the time

To tell‘ em how I love‘ em.—

Sich folks, you know, I jes love so

I would n't live without‘ em,

Er could n't even drap asleep

But what I dreamp’ about‘ em,—

And ef we minded God, I guess

We'd all love one-another

Jes like one fam'bly,— me and Pap

And Madaline and Mother.