I spent my whole vacation, pretty near,
On Uncle Eben’s farm, and though I’m small,
I hoed the corn and beans, and helped him haul
And stack his hay. I’dst work until I’dst fear
I’dst just drop down and end my sad career
Before they’dst give the welcome dinner call.
My uncle dost not weigh his words with care,
For once he told me that I wast a shirk;
But I wouldst rather breathe the country air
Than be a shut-in office-boy or clerk;