My Ol’ Aunt Sue

                                      (Respectfully dedicated to “Bruther Gawge”)

One day w’en boyhood’s sunny ray o’erspread my freckled face,

An’ broken carts an’ kites an’ guns filled ev’ry maner place,

A letter came to our house which made me ruther blue:

It asked for me, the youngest boy, to live with ol’ Aunt Sue.

Now she wus tall an’ slim an’ cross an’ ‘lowed no eskerpades,

But wuss’n that she ‘us one uv these ol’-fashun, dried-up maids.

“Twas many miles to where she lived, I sniveled all the way,

But often dad, who held the reins, ‘ud turn aroun’ an’ say:

“Don’t feel so bad my little chap, jes’ stay a week or so,

An’ then if you should wish to leave, I’ll bring you back, you know.”

An’ w’en we reached the cottage gate the front door open flew,

An’ out she skipped and said to me: “Come, kiss your ol’ Aunt Sue.”

But things were different livin’ there than I’d supposed they’d be;

I went to school an’ fished an’ played an’ time wus rather free.

Ol’ Auntie seemed to whop right roun’ an’ used me good as pie,

An’ I wus trained to be a man beneath her lovin’ eye.

An’ win I started arter that, a business up in town,

She placed a bank book in my han’ with jes two thousand down.

          *        *        *        *        *

Win I recall her well-loved form I bow with reverence due,

An’ try to live as good a life as did dear ol’ Aunt Sue.

Now, as I tread the stony path I long for her advice,

An’ I shall wait till I fin’ one like her afore I splice;

An’ now you boys thet live aroun’ I’ve jes’ a word for you:

If e’er you get the lucky chance live with your ol’ Auntie Sue.

Pub. Ct. Valley Ad.                                                Feb. 26, ‘91