When The Hens Come Off

Waal, I dunno uv anytime

     In all the hull blamed year

Thet makes a feller feel so good,

     A’ fills the farm with cheer,

Ez when the grass begins to creep,

     Eroun’ eac coop an’ tough,

An’ when the sun warms up the air

     An’ all the hens come off.

A hundred little “peeps” are heard

     Upon the farmyard air;

An’ specks uv white an’ brown an’ gold

     Are runnin’ everywhere.

An’ mother hens with busy “clucks”,

     Are struttin’ to an’ for,

Or scratchin’ out a careless worm

     To give the chicks a show.

Some write about the violets,

     An’ some the breath uv spring;

An’ some rave o’er the buddin’ trees

     An’ all that sort uv thing.

But what hits me – an’ I don’t keer

     Who wants to jeer or scoff –

Is them warm days out round the farm

     When all the hens come off.

March 28, 1903