In The Spring

         In the spring,

That’s the time of all the year

When a feller’s feelin’ queer;

When his pulse beats warm an’ quick

For the gleamin’ of the Crick,

For the sound of waterfalls,

An’ the early robin calls.

That’s the time he itches bad

For the gay an’ festive shad;

For the rich an’ juicy roe

Tickles up his palate so

         In the spring.

         In the spring!

That’s the time a feller’s palm

Itches for the way back farm;

Hankers for the rod an’ hook,

An’ the mellerfluous brook

Where the speckled beauties swim,

Hangin’ round there jest for him.

O it beats the whole durn year,

July Fourth an’ Christmas cheer!

This air feelin’ creepin’ round

When the frost has left the ground,

         In the spring.

         In the spring,

That’s the time the fevers spread,

Holdin’ fellers down inbed.

But a bed or quart of pills

Wouldn’t cure the fishin’ ills.

Nothin’ but a ten-mile tramp

With yewr stockin’s sousin’ damp,

An’ a basket full of trout

Would bombard the fever out.

That’s the time when man is King,

When he’s somethin’ on a string

         In the spring!

March 19, 1900