And the taxes, unpaid, still appear on the book
Of the County Collector, Nathaniel U. Crook.
So I keep coming back, to my old Hoosier shack,
To inhale the sweet mildew of hay in the stack,
And to drink from the spring where the bull-frogs abound
That protect the young cowslips that grow all around.
Now the mortgage is due and the int'rest unpaid,
And I can't get a cent for the place, I'm afraid;
But I love to return here, at vacation time,
Just to revel again in the mud and the slime.