Page 429 - The model orator, or, Young folks' speaker : containing the choicest recitations and readings from the best authors for schools, public entertainments, social gatherings, Sunday schools, etc. : including recitals in prose and verse ...
P. 429

If  it  is  cold, they  shiver  round  'nd  call  the  weather horrid;
                      If  it is warm, they .sweat  and fret about the  weather torrid;
                      If  it is summer,  then  they scow)  ’nd long for winter cool ;
                      FNd if  it’s winter,  they will yearn for  summer ez a rooh

                      If  they have money,  ev'ry one is arter it, they think ;
                      ’ N"d bound somehow til  beat  ’em  'nd  appropriate their chink ;
                      If  they are poor,  iliey  think  they arc the  worst abused  of  all
                      The creeturs  of  Cod’s  providcnce  upon  this  rollin' ball.

                      'Nd  if  they have a family,  they're  always  savtin  sure
                      No  other  man could such a wife  or child  ez  theirs  endure ;
                      ’ Nd if  they're single, they bewail  their  sad  'nd  lonely lot,
                      ’ Xd say when plums are passed  around they ahers are forgot,

                      ’ Nd  so  it  goes, the goodness  knows  if  any fun  they  git
                      In  fin din’  fault with  Providence they need it eveiy bit;
                      But  how  uoder the  canopy they manage tu  git round
                      On the  wust side  of  everything beats anything  I’ve found.


                      The sun  shines jest ez  bright on  'em  ez  ft does  on you  'nd me,
                      sNd  none of  us  kin  dodge the storms  of  life ez  I  kin  see;
                      But wThy some folks  ’d  rati ter  count the storms  than  pleasant days
                      Is somethin'  I  don’t  understand and (ills  me with amaze.


                      The "birds  sing  no  less  sweetly 'cause a  sunny day has passed ;
                      The apple-trees don't  cease tu bloom when they  no  shadder  cast;
                      The tattle  on  a thousand  hills  don't lose their appetite
                      ’ Nd beller  round  because thev ain't in  clover day  'nd  ni^ht.
                                                    i'

                      If  bees  can’t find  a clover patch  they pi.it  up  with buckwheat;
                      They’re jest ez  happy,  'nd  1  guess  th-  honey's jest e*  sweet.
                      There ain’t a erectin'  livin’.  'cept  the  human,  e’  I  know,
                      That  loves tu  fret  ’n1  grumble  round;  now,  neighbor,  ain't it so ?
                                                               W il l ia m   E d w a r d  P e n n e y.
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