Put down your pillow under the willow,
Hang up your hat in the sun,
And lie down to snooze as long as you choose,
For the plowing and sowing are done.
Pick up your pillow from under the willow,
And clamber out into the sun.
Get a fork and a rake for goodness’ sake,
For the harvest time has begun.
HIGH ON THE MANTEL
High on the mantel rose a moan—
It came from an idol carved in bone—
“Oh, it’s so lonesome here alone,
With no one near to love me!”
A cautious smile came over the face
Of a pensive maid on a Grecian vase
“Are you sure,” she said, with charming grace,
“There’s no one near to love you?”
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BOOTS, BOOTS, BOOTS
Buster’s got a popper gun,
A reg’lar one that shoots,
And Teddy’s got an engine
With a whistler that toots.
But I’ve got something finer yet—
A pair of rubber boots.
Oh, it’s boots, boots, boots,
A pair of rubber boots!
I could walk from here to China
In a pair of rubber boots.