[67]
]But I’ll bet old Bill is dreamin’, and he’s driftin’ on the tide,
Where his wife and kids is waitin’ for a dozen lengthy years
On their cocky-patch, and hopin’ till the last hope nearly died—
And it’s safe to lay a dollar as his eyes is dim with tears—
Hello, on top! Hello!
This is boshter sile to grow,
F’r I guess our plotch ’ll answer mor’n a ’tater to the row!
But a man ain’t got no time to dream with plenty work in sight,
When he’s got the cream of all the lead right through from pay to pay;
For you can’t get rich on dreamin’, and you can’t shift dirt with skite,