A Summer Pastoral

written by


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It's hot to-day. The bees is buzzin'
  Kinder don't-keer-like aroun'
  An' fur off the warm air dances
  O'er the parchin' roofs in town.
  In the brook the cows is standin';
  Childern hidin' in the hay;
  Can't keep none of 'em a workin',
  'Cause it's hot to-day.

  It's hot to-day. The sun is blazin'
  Like a great big ball o' fire;
  Seems as ef instead o' settin'
  It keeps mountin' higher an' higher.
  I'm as triflin' as the children,
  Though I blame them lots an' scold;
  I keep slippin' to the spring-house,
  Where the milk is rich an' cold.

  The very air within its shadder
  Smells o' cool an' restful things,
  An' a roguish little robin
  Sits above the place an' sings.
  I don't mean to be a shirkin',
  But I linger by the way
  Longer, mebbe, than is needful,
  'Cause it's hot to-day.

  It's hot to-day. The horses stumble
  Half asleep across the fiel's;
  An' a host o' teasin' fancies
  O'er my burnin' senses steals,--
  Dreams o' cool rooms, curtains lowered,
  An' a sofy's temptin' look;
  Patter o' composin' raindrops
  Or the ripple of a brook.

  I strike a stump! That wakes me sudden;
  Dreams all vanish into air.
  Lordy! how I chew my whiskers;
  'Twouldn't do fur me to swear.
  But I have to be so keerful
  'Bout my thoughts an' what I say;
  Somethin' might slip out unheeded,
  'Cause it's hot to-day.

  Git up, there, Suke! you, Sal, git over!
  Sakes alive! how I do sweat.
  Every stitch that I've got on me,
  Bet a cent, is wringin' wet.
  If this keeps up, I'll lose my temper.
  Gee there, Sal, you lazy brute!
  Wonder who on airth this weather
  Could 'a' be'n got up to suit?

  You, Sam, go bring a tin o' water;
  Dash it all, don't be so slow!
  'Pears as ef you tuk an hour
  'Tween each step to stop an' blow.
  Think I want to stand a meltin'
  Out here in this b'ilin' sun,
  While you stop to think about it?
  Lift them feet o' your'n an' run.

  It ain't no use; I'm plumb fetaggled.
  Come an' put this team away.
  I won't plow another furrer;
  It's too mortal hot to-day.
  I ain't weak, nor I ain't lazy,
  But I'll stand this half day's loss
  'Fore I let the devil make me
  Lose my patience an' git cross.

© Paul Laurence Dunbar