Right here at home, boys, is the place fer us!—
Where folks' heart's bigger 'n their money-pu's';
And where a common feller's jes as good
As ary other in the neighborhood:
The World at large don't worry you and me
Right here at home, boys, where we ort to be!
Right here at home, boys—jes right where we air!—
Birds don't sing any sweeter anywhere:
Grass don't grow any greener'n she grows
Acrost the pastur' where the old path goes,—
All things in ear-shot's purty, er in sight,
Right here at home, boys, ef we size 'em right.
Right here at home, boys, where the old home-place
Is sacerd to us as our mother's face,
Jes as we rickollect her, last she smiled
And kissed us—dyin' so and rickonciled,
Seein' us all at home here—none astray—
Right here at home, boys, where she sleeps to-day.
THE LITTLE FAT DOCTOR.
He seemed so strange to me, every way—
In manner, and form, and size,
From the boy I knew but yesterday,—
I could hardly believe my eyes!
To hear his name called over there,
My memory thrilled with glee
And leaped to picture him young and fair
In youth, as he used to be.
But looking, only as glad eyes can,
For the boy I knew of yore,
I smiled on a portly little man
I had never seen before!—
Grave as a judge in courtliness—
Professor-like and bland—
A little fat doctor and nothing less,
With his hat in his kimboed hand.
But how we talked old times, and "chaffed"
Each other with "Minnie" and "Jim"—-
And how the little fat doctor laughed,
And how I laughed with him!
"And it's pleasant," I thought, "though I yearn to see
The face of the youth that was,
To know no boy could smile on me
As the little fat doctor does!"