Gungawamp’s Best Days

“Gungawamp” hez seen her best

Days I reckon; now is jest

When the dragged out city crowd

Comes a-troopin’, fast an’ loud,

Bag an’ baggage in a lump

To the peace of “Gungawamp”.

‘Tain’t much like it uster be

In the ol’days, no-sir-ee;

When the only sound you heard

Was the chirrup of a bird.

Or the hummin’ of the bees

‘Mongst the flowers an’ the trees.

Twilight time the sleepy frogs

Made their music in the bogs,

An’ frum under Miller’s Hill

Come the call of “Whipporwill”.

That was all our mellerdy

In the days that uster be.

Now the thing has shifted some;

All day long we hear the hum

Of the near-by trolley jest

Complete. An’ the autos! Blast

Ef there ain’t a dozen here

Seven months out of the year.

Pony carts a bobbin’ round,

Golf spread over ha’f the ground;

Phonygraphs a goin’ late,

Functions at an awful rate.

Power boats along the “Crick”

Coughin’ jest like they was sick.

“Gungawamp” hez seen her best

Days I reckon; though I’m jest

Thinkin’ mebbie it would be

Lonesomer for ma an’ me

Ef the city folks should stay

Away altergether; hey?

May 15, ‘08