“LIKE AN OLD COW’S TAIL”
When I was a youngster and lived on the farm
It sickened my heart—did that morning alarm!
When dad came along to the foot of the stairs
And summoned me back to my duties and
cares;
—Put all of my glorious visions to rout
With “Breakfast is ready! LP h’ist out there,
h’ist out!”
And when I came yawningly, sleepily down,
My eyes “full of sticks” and my face all
a-frown,
I got for a greeting this jocular hail,
“Wal, always behind like an old cow’s tail.”
I’ll own to you, neighbor, that work on the
farm
Had features not wholly surrounded by charm.
And when I am fashioning lyrical praise
For matters bucolic of earlier days,
You’ll note that my lyre, sir, operates best
When I tune up and sing of the blessings of
rest.
I’ve stood in the stow-hole and “tread” on the
load,
And waltzed with a bush scythe and worked
on the road,
But somehow or other the language won’t
spring
When prowess of muscle I venture to sing.
But when I am piping of “resting” or fun
Or lauding the time after chores are all done,
Why, somehow—why, blame it, as sure as
you’re born,
I mentally feel that my trolley is on!
And a trolley, you know, would be certain to
fail,
Unless’twas behind like an old cow’s tail.