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And when I went in the house the table was set for me— As good a supper's I ever saw, or ever want to see; And I crammed the agreement down my pocket as well as I could, And fell to eatin' my victuals, which somehow didn't taste good. And Betsey, she pretended to look about the house, But she watched my side coat pocket like a cat would watch a mouse: And then she went to foolin' a little with her cup, And intently readin' a newspaper, a-holdin' it wrong side up. |
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And when I'd done my supper I drawed the agreement out, And give it to her without a word, for she knowed what 'twas about; And then I hummed a little tune, but now and then a note Was bu'sted by some animal that hopped up in my throat. Then Betsey she got her specs from off the mantel-shelf, And read the article over quite softly to herself; Read it by little and little, for her eyes is gettin' old, And lawyers' writin' ain't no print, especially when it's cold. And after she'd read a little she give my arm a touch, And kindly said she was afraid I was 'lowin' her too much; But when she was through she went for me, her face a-streamin' with tears, And kissed me for the first time in over twenty years! |
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I don't know what you'll think, Sir—I didn't come to inquire— But I picked up that agreement and stuffed it in the fire; And I told her we'd bury the hatchet alongside of the cow; And we struck an agreement never to have another row. And I told her in the future I wouldn't speak cross or rash If half the crockery in the house was broken all to smash; And she said, in regards to heaven, we'd try and learn its worth By startin' a branch establishment and runnin' it here on earth. And so we sat a-talkin' three-quarters of the night, And opened our hearts to each other until they both grew light; And the days when I was winnin' her away from so many men Was nothin' to that evenin' I courted her over again. Next mornin' an ancient virgin took pains to call on us, Her lamp all trimmed and a-burnin' to kindle another fuss; But when she went to pryin' and openin' of old sores, My Betsey rose politely, and showed her out-of-doors. |