And ripples up my backbone tel I'm tickled most to death?—
Kindo' like that sweet-sick feelin', in the long sweep of a swing,
The first you ever swung in, with yer first sweet-heart, i jing!—
Yer first picnic—yer first ice-cream—yer first o' ever'thing
'At happened 'fore yer dancin'-days wuz over!
I never understood it—and I s'pose I never can,—
But right in town here, yisterd'y, I heerd a pore blindman
A-fiddlin' old "Gray Eagle"—And-sir! I jes stopped my load
O' hay and listened at him—yes, and watched the way he "bow'd,"—
And back I went, plum forty year', with boys and girls I knowed