class="indent15">Yit still strivin'-like to do

Ever'thing a father could

Do he knowed the mother would

Ef she'd lived.—And now all's through

And I' got her home ag'in—

Home ag'in with me!

Original

Original

And I' bin so lonesome, too—

Here o' late, especially,—

"Old Aunt Abigail," you know,

Ain't no company;—and so

Jes the hired hand, you see—

Jonas—like a relative

More—sence he come here to live

With us, nigh ten year' ago.

Original

Original

Still he don't count much, you know.

In the line o' company—

Lonesome, 'peared-like, 'most as me!

So, as I say, I' bin so

Special lonesome-like and blue,

With Elviry, like she's bin,

'Way so much, last two er three

Year'.—But now she's home ag'in—

Home ag'in with me!

Original

Original

Drivin' fe'r her yisterday,

Me and Jonas—gay and spry,—

We jes cut up, all the way!—

Yes, and sung!—tel, blame it! I

Keyed my voice up 'bout as high

As when—days 'at I wuz young—

"Buckwheat-notes" wuz all they sung

Jonas bantered me, and 'greed

To sing one 'at town-folks sing

Down at Split Stump 'er High-Low—

Original