Chore Time

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <h2><SPAN name="CHORE_TIME" id="CHORE_TIME"></SPAN>CHORE TIME.</h2> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">When I'm at gran'dad's on the farm,</span> <span class="i1">I hear along 'bout six o'clock,</span> <span class="i0">Just when I'm feelin' snug an' warm,</span> <span class="i1">"Ho, Bobby, come and feed your stock."</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I jump an' get into my clothes;</span> <span class="i1">It's dark as pitch, an' shivers run</span> <span class="i0">All up my back. Now, I suppose</span> <span class="i1">Not many boys would think this fun.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">But when we get out to the barn</span> <span class="i1">The greedy pigs begin to squeal,</span> <span class="i0">An' I throw in the yellow corn,</span> <span class="i1">A bushel basket to the meal.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Then I begin to warm right up,</span> <span class="i1">I whistle "Yankee Doodle" through,</span> <span class="i0">An' wrastle with the collie pup&mdash;</span> <span class="i1">And sometimes gran'dad whistles too.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[90]</SPAN></span> <span class="i0">The cow-shed door, it makes a din</span> <span class="i1">Each time we swing it open wide;</span> <span class="i0">I run an' flash the lantern in,</span> <span class="i1">There stand the shorthorns side by side.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Their breathin' makes a sort of cloud</span> <span class="i1">Above their heads&mdash;there's no frost here.</span> <span class="i0">"My beauties," gran'dad says out loud,</span> <span class="i1">"You'll get your breakfasts, never fear."</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">When up I climb into the loft</span> <span class="i1">To fill their racks with clover hay,</span> <span class="i0">Their eyes, all sleepy like and soft,</span> <span class="i1">A heap of nice things seem to say.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The red ox shakes his curly head,</span> <span class="i1">An' turns on me a solemn face;</span> <span class="i0">I know he's awful glad his shed</span> <span class="i1">Is such a warm and smelly place.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">An' last of all the stable big,</span> <span class="i1">With harness hanging on each door,</span> <span class="i0">I always want to dance a jig</span> <span class="i1">On that old musty, dusty floor.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It seems so good to be alive,</span> <span class="i1">An' tendin' to the sturdy grays,</span> <span class="i0">The sorrels, and old Prince, that's five&mdash;</span> <span class="i1">An' Lightfoot with her coaxing ways.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[91]</SPAN></span> <span class="i0">My gran'dad tells me she is mine,</span> <span class="i1">An' I'm that proud! I braid her mane,</span> <span class="i0">An' smooth her sides until they shine,</span> <span class="i1">An' do my best to make her vain.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">When we have measured oats for all,</span> <span class="i1">Have slapped the grays upon the flanks,</span> <span class="i0">An' tried to pat the sorrels tall,</span> <span class="i1">An' heard them whinny out their thanks,</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">We know it's breakfast time, and go</span> <span class="i1">Out past the yellow stacks of straw,</span> <span class="i0">Across the creek that used to flow,</span> <span class="i1">But won't flow now until a thaw.</span> </div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Behind the trees the sky is pink,</span> <span class="i1">The snow drifts by in fat white flakes,</span> <span class="i0">My gran'dad says: "Well, Bob, I think</span> <span class="i1">There comes a smell of buckwheat cakes."</span> </div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />