MISTER HOP-TOAD

HOWDY, Mister Hop-Toad! Glad to see you out!
Bin a month o’Sund’ys sence I seen you hereabout.
Kind o’ bin a-layin’ in, from the frost and snow?
Good to see you out ag’in, it’s bin so long ago!
Plows like slicin’ cheese, and sod’s loppin’ over even;
Loam’s like gingerbread, and clods’s softer’n deceivin’---
Mister Hop-Toad, honest true---Sprintime---don’t you love it?
You old rusty rascal you, at the bottom of it!

Oh, oh, oh!
I grabs up my old hoe;
But I sees you,
And s’ I, “ooh-ooh!
Howdy, Mister Hop-Toad! How-dee-do!”

Make yourse’f more cumbo’bler---square round at your ease---
Don’t set saggin’ slanchwise, with your nose below your knees.
Swell that fat old throat o’ yourn and lemme see you swaller;
Straighten up and h’ist your head!--- You don’t owe a dollar!---
Hain’t no mor’gage on your land---ner no taxes, nuther;
You don’t haf to work no roads---even ef you’d ruther!
‘F I was you, and fixed like you, I railly wouldn’t keer
To swop fer life and hop right in the presidential cheer!

Oh, oh, oh!
I hauls back my old hoe;
But I sees you,
And s’ I, “ooh-ooh!
Howdy, Mister Hop-Toad! How-dee-do!”

Long about next Aprile, hoppin’ down the furry,
Won’t you mind I ast you what ‘peared to be the hurry?---
Won’t you mind I hooked my hoe and hauled you back and smiled?---
W’y, bless you, Mister Hop-Toad, I love you like a child!
S’pose I’d want to ‘flict you any more’n what you air?---
S’pose I think you got no rights ‘cept the warts you wear?
Hulk, sulk, and blink away, you old bloat-eyed rowdy!---
Hain’t you got a word to say?---Won’t you tell me “Howdy”?

Oh, oh, oh!
I swish round my old hoe;
But I sees you,
And s’ I, “ooh-ooh!
Howdy, Mister Hop-Toad! How-dee-do!”

MY FIDDLE

My fiddle?---Well, I kindo’ keep her handy, don’t you know!
Though I ain’t so much inclined to tromp the strings and switch the bow
As I was before the timber of my elbows got so dry,
And my fingers were more limber-like and caperish and spry;

Yit I can plonk and plunk and plink,
And tune her up and play,
And jest lean back and laugh and wink
At ev’ry rainy day!

My playin’ ‘s only middlin’---tunes I picked up when a boy---
The kindo’-sorto’ fiddlin’ that the folks calls “cordaroy”;
“The Old Fat Gal,” and “Rye-straw,” and “My Sailyor’s on the Sea,”
Is the old cowtillions I “saw” when ch’ice is left to me;

And so I plunk and plonk and plink
And rosum-up my bow
And play the tunes that makes you think
The devil’s in your toe!

I was allus a romancin’, do-less boy, to tell the truth,
A-fiddlin’ and a-dancin’, and a-wastin’ of my youth,
And a-actin’ and a-cuttin’-up all sorts o’ silly pranks
That wasn’t worth a button o’ anybody’s thanks!

But they tell me, when I ust to plink
And plonk and plunk and play,
My music seemed to have the kink
O’ drivin’ cares away!

That’s how this here old fiddle’s won my hart’s indurin’ love!---
From the strings acrost her middle, to the shcreechin’ keys above---
From her “apern,” over “bridge,” and to the ribbon round her throat,
She’s a wooin’, cooin’ pigeon, singin’ “Love Me” ev’ry note!
And so I pat her neck, and plink
Her strings with lovin’ hands,---
And list’nin’ clos’t, I sometimes think
She kindo’ understands!

And so I plunk and plonk and plink
And rosum-up my bow
And play the tunes that makes you think
The devil’s in your toe!

I was allus a romancin’, do-less boy, to tell the truth,
A-fiddlin’ and a-dancin’, and a-wastin’ of my youth,
And a-actin’ and a-cuttin’-up all sorts o’ silly pranks
That wasn’t worth a button o’ anybody’s thanks!

But they tell me, when I ust to plink
And plonk and plunk and play,
My music seemed to have the kink
O’ drivin’ cares away!

That’s how this here old fiddle’s won my hart’s indurin’ love!---
From the strings acrost her middle, to the shcreechin’ keys above---
From her “apern,” over “bridge,” and to the ribbon round her throat,
She’s a wooin’, cooin’ pigeon, singin’ “Love Me” ev’ry note!
And so I pat her neck, and plink
Her strings with lovin’ hands,---
And list’nin’ clos’t, I sometimes think
She kindo’ understands!

DAWN, NOON AND DEWFALL

I
Dawn, noon and dewfall! Bluebird and robin
Up and at it airly, and the orchard-blossoms bobbin’!
Peekin’ from the winder, half-awake, and wishin’
I could go to sleep ag’in as well as go a-fishin’!

II
On the apern o’ the dam, legs a-danglin’ over,
Drowsy-like with sound o’ worter and the smell o’clover:
Fish all out a-visitin’---‘cept some dratted minnor!
Yes, and mill shet down at last and hands is gone to dinner.

III
Trompin’ home acrost the fields: Lightnin’bugs a-blinkin’
In the wheat like sparks o’ things feller keeps a-thinkin’:---
Mother waitin’ supper, and the childern there to cherr me;
And fiddle on the kitchen-wall a-jist a-eechin’ fer me!

ON ANY ORDENARY MAN IN A HIGH STATE OF LAUGHTER AND DELIGHT

Let the old man laugh and be
Blest therefore eternally!

As it’s give’ me to perceive,
I most certin’y believe
When a man’s jest glad plum’ through,
God’s pleased with him, same as you.

THE SCHOOLBOY’S FAVORITE POEM

Over the river and through the wood,
Now Grandmother’s cap I spy!
Hurrah for the fun! Is the pudding done?
Hurrah for the pumpkin-pie!

Fer any boy ‘at’s little as me, er any little girl,
That-un’s the goodest poetry-piece in any book in the worl’!
An’ ef grown-peoples wuz little ag’in I bet they’d say so, too,
Ef they’d go see their ole Gran’ma like our Pa lets us do!

Over the river an’ through the wood,
Now Gran’mother’s cap I spy!
Hurrah fer the fun!---Is the puddin’ done?---
Hurrah fer the punkin-pie!

An’ ‘ll tell you why ‘at’s the goodest piece: ‘Cause it’s ist like we go
To our Gran’ma’s, a-visitun there, when our Pa he says so;
An’ Ma she fixes my little cape-coat an’ little fuzz-cap; an’ Pa
He tucks me away---an’ yells “Hoo-ray!”---An- whacks Ole Gray,
An’ drives the sleigh fastest you ever saw!

Over the river an’ through the wood,
Now Gran’mother’s cap I spy!
Hurrah fer the fun!---Is the puddin’ done?---
Hurrah fer the punkin-pie!

An’ Pa ist snuggles me ‘tween his knees---an’ I he’p hold the lines,
An’ peek out over the buffalo-robe;---An’ the wind ist blows!---
An’ the snow ist snows!’ An’ the sun ist shines! An’ shines!---
An’ the’ ole horse tosses his head an’ coughs the frost back in our face---
An’ I’ ruther go to my Gran’ma’s than any other place!

Over the river an’ through the wood,
Now Gran’mother’s cap I spy!
Hurrah fer the fun!---Is the puddin’ done?---
Hurrah fer the punkin-pie!

An’ all the peoples they is in town watches us whizzin’ past
To go a-visitun our Gran’mas’s, like we all went there last;---
But they can’t go, like ist our folks an’ Johnny an’ Lotty, an’ three
Er four neighber-childerns, an’ Rober-ut Volney
An’ Charley an’ Maggy an’ me!

Over the river an’ through the wood,
Now Gran’mother’s cap I spy!
Hurrah fer the fun!---Is the puddin’ done?---
Hurrah fer the punkin-pie!