So he went to feedin’ on ’er hemlock sawdust
mash.
Hen she gobbled down the stuff, reg’lar as
could be;
“Reely seemed to fat ’er up,” Cy says he to me.
Shows the power of the mind when it gets a
clutch.
Hen imagined it was bran—helped ’er just as
much.
Then she hid her nest away—laid a dozen eggs;