WHEN THE GREEN GITS BACK IN THE TREES
In Spring, when the green gits back in the trees,
And the sun comes out and stays,
And yer boots pulls on with a good tight squeeze,
And you think of yer bare-foot days;
When you ort to work and you want to not,
And you and yer wife agrees
It's time to spade up the garden-lot,
When the green gits back in the trees—
Well! work is the least o' my idees
When the green, you know, gits back in the trees!
When the green gits back in the trees, and bees
Is a-buzzin' aroun' ag'in
In that kind of a lazy go-as-you-please
Old gait they bum roun' in;
When the groun's all bald whare the hay-rick stood,
And the crick's riz, and the breeze
Coaxes the bloom in the old dogwood,
And the green gits back in the trees,—
I like, as I say, in sich scenes as these,
The time when the green gits back in the trees!
When the whole tail-fethers o' Wintertime
Is all pulled out and gone!
And the sap it thaws and begins to climb,
And the swet it starts out on
A feller's forred, a-gittin' down
At the old spring on his knees—
I kindo' like jest a-loaferin' roun'
When the green gits back in the trees—
Jest a-potterin' roun' as I—durn—please—
When the green, you know, gits back in the trees!
HOW IT HAPPENED
I got to thinkin' of her—both her parunts dead and gone—
And all her sisters married off, and none but her and John
A-livin' all alone thare in that lonesome sorto' way,
And him a blame old bachelor, confirmder ev'ry day!
I'd knowed 'em all, from childern, and theyr daddy from the time
He settled in the neghborhood, and hadn't ary a dime
Er dollar, when he married, fer to start housekeepin' on!—
So I got to thinkin' of her—both her parunts dead and gone!
I got to thinkin' of her; and a-wundern what she done
That all her sisters kep' a-gittin' married, one by one,
And her without no chances—and the best girl of the pack—
A' old maid, with her hands, you might say, tied behind her back!
And Mother, too, afore she died,—she ust to jest take on,
When none of 'em wuz left, you know, but Evaline and John,
And jest declare to goodness 'at the young men must be bline
To not see what a wife they'd git ef they got Evaline!
I got to thinkin' of her: In my great affliction she
Wuz sich a comfert to us, and so kind and neghborly,—
She'd come, and leave her housework, fer to he'p out little Jane,
And talk of her own mother 'at she'd never see again—
They'd sometimes cry together—though, fer the most part, she
Would have the child so rickonciled and happy-like 'at we
Felt lonesomer'n ever when she'd putt her bonnet on
And say she'd railly haf to be a-gittin' back to John!