The woods

by Douglas Malloch

Thet’s, somehow, awful cheerin’;

Around the shanty door it bums

An’ gethers up the crusts an’ crumbs

Cook scatters in the clearin’.

It gethers up the crusts an’ crumbs

An’ jest as glad it chatters

As if it fed on biscuit fine

All soaked in milk er dipped in wine

An’ served on silver platters.

My share of life is crusts an’ crumbs