Well, comin' 'long the road I seen your ma
Drive by to town—she didn't speak to me!
An' in the farthest field I seen your pa
At his spring-plowin', like I'd ought to be.
But, knowin' you'd be here all by yourself,
I hed to come—for now's our livin' chance.
Take off yer apern, leave things on the shelf—
Our preacher needs what th' feller calls "romance."
Ain't got no red-wheeled buggy; but the mare
Will carry double, like we've trained her to.