Wish’t I Had A Baby

I wish’t I had a baby,

     A little toddle tee;

To pull out all my whiskers,

     An’ crawl aroun’ my knee.

‘Twould keep my mind frum growin’

     Kin’ er seedy-like an’ slow;

An’ keep my thoughts a-goin’

     Kin’ er where the orter go.

But my wife an’ I are growin’,

     Growin’ ol’ together fast;

An’ our prime uv life I reckon,

     Soon will be forever past.

I wish’t I had a tod’ler

     To pull me all apart;

To test my stock of patience,

     An’ find if I’ve a heart.

Sept. 30, 1893

(Irene Clevenshire Cone, the only one of three to survive infancy, wasn’t born until Oct. 22, 1897)