Mary Jane Grey

Just down the road a little way,

     Half hidden among the trees,

I saw the home of farmer Grey,

     Looking as cozy as you please.

Pigs loudly grunted in their pens,

     Gobblers brusseled round,                

The yard was full of pesky hens

     A-scratching up the ground.

White clothes were flying on the line,

     And milk pans glistened in the sun;

And everything around bore sign

     That farm-wife work was never done.

Pulling the well-sweep slowly down,

     To draw some sparkling water,

With hands and face a ruddy brown,

     Was the farmer’s only daughter.

The farmer trudged along the lane,

     Up by the wavy mowing,                          

And said, “Look here now, Mary Jane,

Some one must help me hoein’.

I’m gittin’ old to do it all,

     An' there’s young Jimmy Martin

Who helped me out two days last fall,

     He’ll come I’m pooty sartin.”

Now Jim lived neighbor to the Grey’s,

     And when chance offered, sorter,

Tried love-making, numerous ways,

     To the farmer’s only daughter.

But Mary Jane was always grave,

     For by her dad’s tuition

Was daily taught to pinch and save

     As the height of all ambition.

“He wants the farm, I know,” said she,

     “Or else he’d go a sparkin’

That purty lookin’ Maggie Lee,

     Or ese Miss Betsy Larkin.”

But Jim was hired and on the morn

     That followed the conversation

Was hoeing round the dewy corn,

     Pleased with his occupation.

Said Mary Jane, “I guess I’ll go

     An’ see if Jim is hoein’.”

But Jim, you see, he didn’t know

     Just how the wind was blowing.

So when he saw her in the lane

     He said, “I’ll try my chances;”

But Mary Jane was firm again

     A gave him cooling glances.

“O yes,” said she, “I plainly see,

     An’ guess I’ll be a goin’.

An’ ‘stid uv makin’ love ter me,

     You’d better keep a-hoein’.”

Poor Jim felt hurt all through and through,

     And turned to hoeing sadly.

“The farm wus mortgaged, that he knew,

     An’ mortgaged ruther badly.”

Two years went by and farmer Grey

     Grew old and broken down;

And, as he failed his debt to pay,

     Was going upon the town.

But Jim had saved up all he could,

     And drove to town one day,

And, after making the mortgage good,

     On the home of his neighbor Grey,

He went and told him what he’d done,

     In a friendly sort of way,

And said ‘twas where his life begun

     And where he ought to stay.

“I hope you won’t hev no alarm,

     But do jest as you choose,”

Said Jim, “All I keer for the farm

     Is some uv the land to use.”

Soon Jim began to cultivate

     The land he’d lately bought;

And Mary Jane to speculate

     If he e’er gave her a thought.

While he was hoeing corn one day

     She rambled down the lane,

And kind of hoped that he would say

     The same things o’er again.

She said she thought it wasn’t strange

     If he should now despise her;

But asked if people didn’t change

     When they got old and wiser.

“Some do, I ‘spose,” said haughty Jim,

     Without a glance bestowing,

“But I’ve no time to talk, Miss Prim,

     I’ve got to keep a-hoein’.”

Poor Mary Jane, it shocked her quite,

     And up the lane she started;

While Jim kept saying it “sarved her right,

     Still was a bit hard hearted.”

So at the setting of the sun

     He sought her in the kitchen.

“O, Mary Jane, my hoein’s done,

     Come let us talk uv hitchin’!”

I left good, honest-hearted Jim,

     And Mary in her glory;

She looking lovingly at him

     And hearing the sweet old story.

Aug. 16 + 17, 1890

The apparently earlier handwritten collection contain a version written in dialect and with a number of other notable changes:

 Jus’ down the road a little way,

     Half hid among the trees,

I saw the home of Farmer Grey,

     A-lookin cosy as you please.

Pigs loud were squealin in the pens,

     Bold turkeys bruss’led round,            

The yard was full of pesky hens

     A-scratching up the ground.

Clean clothes were –flyin’ on the line,

     And milk pans a-shinin’ in the sun;

Which brought that sayin’ to my mind:

     That warmen’s work is never done.

Pullin’ the well-sweep slowly down,

     To draw some clear cool water,

With face an’ hands the hue of brown,

     Wus the farmer’s only daughter.

The farmer came trudgin’ up the lane,

     A-pantin’ an’ a-blowin’

An’ said, “Look here now, Mary Jane,      

     Some one hes got tew help me hoein’.

I’m gittin’ old to dew it all,

     Now thar’s young Jim Martin

Who helped me out one day las’ fall,

     Will come I’m pooty sartin.”

Now Jim lived neighbor to the Grey’s,

     An’ when chance offered, sorter,

Tried love-makin’, different ways,

     To the farmer’s practical daughter.

But Mary Jane wus allus grave,

     For, by her dad’s tuition

Wus taught thet to pinch an’ save

     Wus the height of all ambition.

“He wants the farm, I know right well”

     “Or else he’d go a-sparkin’

That purty lookin’ Susie Bell,

     Or else thet Betsy Larkin.”

But Jim was hired an’ on the morn

     That followed the conversation

Was busy down in the dewy corn,

     Pleased with his occupation.

Said Mary Jane, “I guess I’ll go

     An’ see if Jim is hoein’.”

But Jim, you see, he didn’t know

     Which way the wind wus blowing.

An’ when he saw her in the lane

     He said, “I’ll try it over.”

But Mary Jane was cool again

     An’ thus he failed to prove her.

“O yes,” said she, “I plainly see,

     An’ guess I’ll be a goin’.

An’ ‘stid uv makin’ love ter me,

     You’d better keep a-hoein’.”

Poor Jim felt hurt all through an’ through,

     And turned to hoeing sadly.

The farm wus mortgaged, “that he knew,”

     “An’ mortgaged pretty badly.”

Two years went by an’ farmer Grey

     Grew old an’ broken down;

An’ as he failed – his debt to pay

     Wus goin’ upon the town.

But Jim had saved up all he could,

     An’ went to town one day,

An’, after makin’ the mortgage good,

     On the home of farmer Grey

He went an’ told them what he’d done,

     An’ to stay as long as they choose;

“‘Bout all he wanted uv ther farm

     Wus some uv the land ter use.”

Then Jim began to cultivate

     The land he’d lately bought;

An’ Mary Jane to speculate

     If he e’er gave her a thought.

When he was hoeing corn one day

     She started down the lane,

An’ kind uv hoped thet he might say

     The same things o’er again.

She said she thought it wasn’t strange

     If he should now despise her;

Then asked if people didn’t change

     When they got old an’ wiser.

“Some do, I ‘spose,” said haughty Jim,

     Without a glance bestowing,

“But I ain’t no time to talk, Miss Prim,

     Fer I must keep a-hoein’.”

Poor Mary Jane, it shocked her quite,

     An’ up the lane she started;

While Jim kep’ sayin’ it sarved her right,

     Yet ‘twas a bit hardhearted.”

So, at the setting uv the sun

     He sought her in the kitchen.

“O, Mary Jane! my hoein’s done,

     Come, lets us talk uv hitchin’!”

We’ll leave good, honest hearted Jim,

     And Mary in her glory;

She lookin’ lovin’ly at him

     An’ hearin’ the sweet old story.

Aug. 4 & 5, ‘90