The Auto Craze

Since fathers got the auto craze

We’ve had to change our means and ways;

Life ain’t the same for ma and me

Nor for the ones who come to see

Us here upon the farm, and they

Don’t come no more to make a stay.

In fact the place seems in a daze

Since father got the auto craze.

We get a peck of mail a day,

But every piece that comes our way

Is just a catalog that pa

Has sent for ‘bout some make of car,

And ‘stead of hayin’ in the bogs

He spends his time with catalogs.

He’ll set and study them for days

Since he has got the auto craze.

And ‘stead of talkin’ crops and feed

It’s carbureters, plugs and speed;

No more he talks of beans and corn,

But the kind of auto horn

He’s goin’ to get, till ma and me

Are just as weary as kin be.

There’s nothing we kin say will phase

 Pa since he’s got the auto craze.

Ma says we’re short of wood for fires,

Pa says he’s thinkin’ over tires;

Ma says the kerosene is out,

Pa says he thinks a runabout

Would do at first, and then, alas!

He wants a car that’s got some class.

I guess the only cure for pa

Is just to let him buy a car.

Aug. 10, 1910