Only page of title Very Easy
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Most ontimely old man yit!
'Pear-like sometimes he jest _tries_
His fool-self, and takes the bitt
In his teeth and jest de-fies
All perpryties! -- Lay and swet
Doin' _nothin'_ -- only jest
Sorto' speckillatun on
Whare old summertimes is gone,
And 'bout things that he loved best
When a youngster! Heerd him say
_Springtimes_ made him thataway --
Speshully on _Sund'ys_ -- when
Sun shines out and in again,
And the lonesome old hens they
Git off under the old kern-
Bushes, and in deep concern
_Talk-like to theyrselvs_, and scratch
Kindo' absunt-minded, jest
Like theyr thoughts was fur away
In some neghbor's gyarden-patch
Folks has tended keerfullest!
Heerd the old man dwell on these
Idys time and time again! --
Heerd him claim that orchurd-trees
Bloomin', put the mischief in
His old hart sometimes that bad
And owdacious that he "_had_
To break loose _some_way," says he,
"Ornry as I ust to be! " Heerd him say one time -- when I
Was a sorto' standin' by,
And the air so still and clear,
Heerd the bell fer church clean here! --
Said: "Ef I could climb and set
On the old three-cornerd rail
Old home-place, nigh Maryette',
Swop my soul off, hide and tale! "
And-sir! blame ef tear and laugh
Didn't ketch him half and half!
"Oh! " he says, "to wake and be
Bare-foot, in the airly dawn
In the pastur'! -- thare," says he,
"Standin' whare the cow's slep' on
The cold, dewy grass that's got
_Print_ of her jest steamy hot
Fer to warm a feller's heels
In a while! -- How good it feels!
Sund'y! -- Country! -- Morning! -- Hear
Nothin' but the _silunce_ -- see
Nothin' but green woods and clear
Skies and unwrit poetry
By the acre! . Oh! " says he,
"What's this voice of mine? -- to seek
To speak out, and yit _can't_ speak! "_Think! _ -- the lazyest of days" --
Takin' his contrairyest leap,
He went on, -- "git up, er sleep --
Er whilse feedin', watch the haze
Dancin' 'crost the wheat, -- and keep
My pipe goin' laisurely --
Puff and whiff as pleases me, --
Er I'll leave a trail of smoke
Through _the house_! -- no one'll say
'_Throw that nasty thing away! _'
'Pear-like nothin' sacerd's broke,
Goin' bare-foot ef I chuse! --
I _have fiddled_; -- and dug bait
And _went fishin'_; -- pitched hoss-shoes --
Whare they couldn't see us from
The main road. -- And I've _beat_ some.
I've set round and had my joke
With the thrashers at the barn --
And I've swopped 'em yarn fer yarn! --
Er I've he'pped the childern poke
Fer hens'-nests -- agged on a match
'Twixt the boys, to watch 'em scratch
And paw round and rip and tare,
And bust buttons and pull hair
To theyr rompin' harts' content --
And me jest a-settin' thare
Hatchin' out more devilment! 
