Still it peared-like ever'thing--
Fur away from home as _there_--
Had more _relish_-like, i jing!--
Fish in stream, er bird in air!
O them rich old bottom-lands,
Past where Cowden's Schoolhouse stands!
Wortermelons--_master-mine!_
Up and down old Brandywine!
And sich pop-paws!--Lumps o' raw
Gold and green,--jes oozy th'ough
With ripe yaller--like you've saw
Custard-pie with no crust to:
And jes _gorges_ o' wild plums,
Till a feller'd suck his thumbs
Clean up to his elbows! _My!_--
_Me some more er lem me die!_
Up and down old Brandywine!...
Stripe me with pokeberry-juice!--
Flick me with a pizenvine
And yell "_Yip!_" and lem me loose!
--Old now as I then wuz young,
'F I could sing as I _have_ sung,
Song 'ud surely ring _dee-vine_
Up and down old Brandywine!
JONES
BY LLOYD OSBOURNE
I
I could have taken "No" like a man, and would have gone away decently
and never bothered her again.
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