When on a fence we climbed to chat,
The top rail broke and down we sat
On sticky burs all round about
That made us dance as well as pout.
What jolly times we had out there
Joking some two as a loving pair,
’Till baskets all were well heaped up,
When home we went to get our sup’.
We hid the nuts clear out of sight,
To roast or boil some winter night,
When coals glowed red within the grate
And snow outdoors fell deep and late.
Oh! that I were a youth once more
To gather chestnuts as of yore
From trees that once had blooming health
But long since dead from insects’ stealth.
Whenever now through woods I go,
My anguished heart does overflow
To see the blighted chestnut die
While puzzled science no cure does spy.
—Harrison.
IN THE TRADE SCHOOLS
Booker T. Washington
He loved both mankind and the soil,
And taught his folks to learn to toil
In all trades of the manual work
That kept them from an idle shirk.
Tuskegee stands a monument
To Booker T. whose life was spent
On begging trips for cash and fuel
To build and run that world-famed school.
—Harrison.