The Old Home by the Mill

This is "The old Home by the Mill" -- fer we still call it so,
Although the _old mill_, roof and sill, is all gone long ago.
The old home, though, and the old folks -- the old spring, and a few
Old cattails, weeds and hartychokes, is left to welcome you!

Here, Marg'et! -- fetch the man a _tin_ to drink out of! Our spring
Keeps kindo'-sorto' cavin' in, but don't "_taste_" anything!
She's kindo' _age_in', Marg'et is -- "the _old_ process" -- like me,
All ham-stringed up with rhumatiz, and on in seventy-three.

Jest me and Marg'et lives alone here -- like in long ago;
The childern all putt off and gone, and married, don't you know?
One's millin' 'way out West somewhare; two other miller-boys
In Minnyopolis they air; and one's in Illinoise.
The _oldest_ gyrl -- the first that went -- married and died right here;
The next lives in Winn's Settlement -- fer purt'-nigh thirty year!
And youngest one -- was allus fer the old home here -- but no! --
Her man turns in and he packs _her_ 'way off to Idyho!

I don't miss them like _Marg'et_ does -- 'cause I got _her_, you see;
And when she pines for them -- that's 'cause _she's_ only jest got _me_!
I laugh, and joke her 'bout it all. -- But talkin' sense, I'll say,
When she was tuk so bad last Fall, I laughed then t'other way!
I hain't so favor'ble impressed 'bout _dyin'_; but ef I
Found I was only second-best when _us two_ come to die,
I'd 'dopt the "new process" in full, ef _Marg'et_ died, you see, --
I'd jest crawl in my grave and pull the green grass over me!