Wal, thet’s the way Bill’s eyes looked at ye then:
Great dep’s o’ shinin’ feelin’, purplish blue;
An’ dogged ef I could tell which from the t’other
A father’s greef, or father’s pride.
At five
One mornin’ not long arterwards, ez I
Was pitchin’ silage down ter feed the steers,
I seen Bill ridin’ out the yard on Belle.
He waved ’is hand an’ yelled he’d be ri’t back.
At bre’kfas’ time he sez jes’ cazhool like: