You
can have you modern ranges with your nickel plate and all,
Their
storage hot and storage cold, their ovens grand and small;
Their
time-clocks and their “handys” and their ornaments in fine,
You
can have them, I was saying, but I don’t like them in mine.
Give
me just a wide old fireplace that is deep and long and high,
That
will take a stick of cordwood from the forest handy by,
And
a fire that’s bright and cheery, throwing out a wave of heat;
Though
it’s crude and called old fashioned I’ll be bound it can’t be beat.
People
used to be more healthy when they lived a slower gait,
When
their food and drink were simple and their hours weren’t late;
When
they gathered round the fireplace in the winter evening long
Where
they heard the fairy story and the good old folk-lore song.
O
the comfort of the fireplace when the logs are burning bright!
And
the pictures you can fancy in the embers’ glowing light.
There
is nothing complicated in the running of the thing,
And
it can’t get out of order like my furnace does, I jing!
July
30, ‘06
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