I don't p'tend to learnin', but I'll tell you what's a fac',
They's a mighty truthful sayin' somers in a almanack—
Er somers—'bout "puore happiness"—perhaps some folks'll laugh
At the idy—"only lastin' jest two seconds and a half."—

But its jest as true as preachin'!—fer that was a sister's kiss,
And a sister's lovin' confidence a-tellin' to me this:—
"She was happy, bein' promised to the son o' farmer Brown."—
And my feelin's struck a pardnership with sunset and went down!

I don't know how I acted—I don't know what I said,
Fer my heart seemed jest a-turnin' to an ice-cold lump o' lead;
And the hosses kind o' glimmered before me in the road,
And the lines fell from my fingers—and that was all I knowed—

Fer—well, I don't know how long—They's a dim rememberence
Of a sound o' snortin' bosses, and a stake-and-ridered fence
A-whizzin' past, and wheat-sheaves a-dancin' in the air,
And Mary screamin' "Murder!" and a-runnin' up to where

I was layin' by the roadside, and the wagon upside down
A-leanin' on the gate-post, with the wheels a whirlin' round!
And I tried to raise and meet her, but I couldn't, with a vague
Sort o' notion comin' to me that I had a broken leg.

Well, the women nussed me through it; but many a time I'd sigh
As I'd keep a-gittin' better instid o' goin' to die,
And wonder what was left me worth livin' fer below,
When the girl I loved was married to another, don't you know!

And my thoughts was as rebellious as the folks was good and kind
When Brown and Mary married—Railly must a-been my mind
Was kindo' out o' kilter!—fer I hated Brown, you see,
Worse'n pizen—and the feller whittled crutches out fer me—

And done a thousand little ac's o' kindness and respec'—
And me a-wishin' all the time that I could break his neck!
My relief was like a mourner's when the funeral is done
When they moved to Illinois in the Fall o' Forty-one.

Then I went to work in airnest—I had nothin' much in view
But to drownd out rickollections—and it kep' me busy, too!
But I slowly thrived and prospered, tel Mother used to say
She expected yit to see me a wealthy man some day.

Then I'd think how little money was, compared to happiness—
And who'd be left to use it when I died I couldn't guess!
But I've still kep' speculatin' and a-gainin' year by year,
Tel I'm payin' half the taxes in the county, mighty near!