Coming Joys

It’s frosty round the edges,

     The wind is getting’ chill;

There is a change in color

     On medderland an’ hill.

Jack frost is getting’ ready,

     He’ll soon be comin’ back;

He’s gittin’ out his brushes

     To paint the garden black.

It’s frosty round the edges,

     It’s time to fix the sheds;

The hosses an’ the cattle

     They want some warmer beds.

It’s time to git the harvest

     An’ put it in the bins;

It’s time to cut the timber

     Fur toastin’ winter shins.

It’s frosty round the edges,

     The cider mills are prime;

We’re all a-gittin’ ready

     Fur good ol’ winter time.

It’s red-cheeked girls an’ apples,

     An’ sassy eyes thet glance;

We’ll soon call out the fiddles

     An’ hev a kitchen dance.

Oct. 1, ‘10