The apples in the orchard, and the pathway through the rye; The chirrup of the robin, and the whistle of the quail As he piped across the meadows sweet as any nightingale; When the bloom was on the clover, and the blue was in the sky, And my happy heart brimmed over, in the days gone by.

[Ill.u.s.tration: In the orchard]

In the days gone by, when my naked feet were tripped By the honeysuckle tangles where the water-lilies dipped, And the ripples of the river lipped the moss along the brink, Where the placid-eyed and lazy-footed cattle came to drink, And the tilting snipe stood fearless of the truant's wayward cry And the splas.h.i.+ng of the swimmer, in the days gone by.

O the days gone by! O the days gone by!

The music of the laughing lip, the l.u.s.tre of the eye; The childish faith in fairies, and Aladdin's magic ring-- The simple, soul-reposing, glad belief in everything,-- When life was like a story, holding neither sob nor sigh, In the golden olden glory of the days gone by.

THE b.u.mBLEBEE

You better not fool with a b.u.mblebee!-- Ef you don't think they can sting--you'll see!

They're lazy to look at, an' kindo' go Buzzin' an' b.u.mmin' aroun' so slow, An' ac' so slouchy an' all f.a.gged out, Danglin' their legs as they drone about The hollyhawks 'at they can't climb in 'Ithout ist a-tumble-un out agin!

Wunst I watched one climb clean 'way In a jim'son-blossom, I did, one day,-- An' I ist grabbed it--an' nen let go-- An' "_Ooh-ooh! Honey! I told ye so!_"

Says The Raggedy Man; an' he ist run An' pullt out the stinger, an' don't laugh none, An' says: "They _has_ ben folks, I guess, 'At thought I wuz predjudust, more er less,-- Yit I still muntain 'at a b.u.mblebee Wears out his welcome too quick fer me!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: The b.u.mblebee]

THE BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Boy Lives on Our Farm--t.i.tle]

The boy lives on our Farm, he's not Afeard o' horses none!

An' he can make 'em lope, er trot, Er rack, er pace, er run.

Sometimes he drives two horses, when He comes to town an' brings A wagon-full o' 'taters nen, An' roastin'-ears an' things.

Two horses is "a team," he says, An' when you drive er hitch, The right-un's a "near-horse," I guess Er "off"--I don't know which-- The Boy lives on our Farm, he told Me, too, 'at he can see, By lookin' at their teeth, how old A horse is, to a T!

I'd be the gladdest boy alive Ef I knowed much as that, An' could stand up like him an' drive, An' ist push back my hat, Like he comes skallyhootin' through Our alley, with one arm A-wavin' Fare-ye-well! to you-- The Boy lives on our Farm!

[Ill.u.s.tration: Stand up like him an' drive]

THE SQUIRTGUN UNCLE MAKED ME

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Squirtgun Uncle Maked Me--t.i.tle]

Uncle Sidney, when he wuz here, Maked me a squirtgun out o' some Elder-bushes 'at growed out near Where wuz the brickyard--'way out clear To where the toll-gate come!

So when we walked back home again, He maked it, out in our woodhouse where Wuz the old workbench, an' the old jack-plane, An' the old 'pokeshave, an' the tools all lay'n'

Ist like he wants 'em there.

He sawed it first with the old hand-saw; An' nen he peeled off the bark, an' got Some gla.s.s an' sc.r.a.ped it; an' told 'bout Pa, When _he_ wuz a boy an' fooled his Ma, An' the whippin' 'at he caught.

Nen Uncle Sidney, he took an' filed A' old arn ramrod; an' one o' the ends He screwed fast into the vise; an' smiled, Thinkin', he said, o' when he wuz a child, 'Fore him an' Pa wuz mens.

He punched out the peth, an' nen he put A plug in the end with a hole notched through; Nen took the old drawey-knife an' cut An' maked a handle 'at shoved clean shut But ist where yer hand held to.

An' he wropt th'uther end with some string an' white Piece o' the sleeve of a' old tored s.h.i.+rt; An' nen he showed me to hold it tight, An' suck in the water an' work it right An' it 'ud ist squirt an' squirt!

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Squirtgun--Tailpiece]

[Ill.u.s.tration: An' nen he peeled off the bark]

THE OLD TRAMP

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Old Tramp.]

A Old Tramp slep' in our stable wunst, An' The Raggedy Man he caught An' roust him up, an' chased him off Clean out through our back lot!

An' th' Old Tramp hollered back an' said,-- "You're a _purty_ man!--_You_ air!-- With a pair o' eyes like two fried eggs, An' a nose like a Bartlutt pear!"

OLD AUNT MARY'S

Wasn't it pleasant, O brother mine, In those old days of the lost suns.h.i.+ne Of youth--when the Sat.u.r.day's ch.o.r.es were through, And the "Sunday's wood" in the kitchen, too, And we went visiting, "me and you,"

Out to Old Aunt Mary's?

It all comes back so clear to-day!

Though I am as bald as you are gray-- Out by the barn-lot, and down the lane, We patter along in the dust again, As light as the tips of the drops of the rain, Out to Old Aunt Mary's!

We cross the pasture, and through the wood Where the old gray snag of the poplar stood, Where the hammering "red-heads" hopped awry, And the buzzard "raised" in the "clearing" sky And lolled and circled, as we went by Out to Old Aunt Mary's.

And then in the dust of the road again; And the teams we met, and the countrymen; And the long highway, with suns.h.i.+ne spread As thick as b.u.t.ter on country bread, Our cares behind, and our hearts ahead Out to Old Aunt Mary's.

[Ill.u.s.tration: We patter along in the dust again]

Why, I see her now in the open door, Where the little gourds grew up the sides and o'er The clapboard roof!--And her face--ah, me!

Wasn't it good for a boy to see-- And wasn't it good for a boy to be Out to Old Aunt Mary's?

And O my brother, so far away, This is to tell you she waits to-day To welcome us:--Aunt Mary fell Asleep this morning, whispering, "Tell The boys to come!" And all is well Out to Old Aunt Mary's.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Old Aunt Mary's--Tailpiece]