The Farmer Talks

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HERE 's a letter from John in th' city,
Ain't heard from him now fer a year;
Yes, his handwritin' s stylish an' pretty,
An' rounded an' wonderf'ly clear;
Says he hopes we are all well an' thrivin',
Remarks that June's been rather cool,
But I know jes' at what he is drivin'
When he says that the kids have done school.

Don't hear much from John through the winter,
Excep' when I go into town,
An' then he don't even begin ter
Warm up or git rid of his frown;
Guess he ain't fond of much entertainin',
An' mebbe thinks I am a fool,
Yet, I know jes' why he's explainin'
The kids will be soon out of school.

Poor John ain't got much excep' trouble,
A mortgage or two an' some debts.
An' I sell a hog fer jes' double
The weekly amount that he gets;
But still John is given ter braggin',
In the city that's often the rule;
An' his wife is eternally naggin'—
So the kids will be soon out of school.

Well, I guess that I'll send fer 'em, Jenny,
Though I ain't got much use fer John,
An' I wouldn't favor him any,
But now that th' summer is on,
Those youngsters need sunshine, I 'm thinkin',
An' air that is fresh an' is cool;
I 'm writin' him — darn me, I 'm blinkin'—
To send 'em when they 're out of school.

© Edgar Albert Guest