Calendar V. The “Crick”

The March winds whistle down the vale round “Otter P’int”

Till all the trees along the shores seem twisted out o’ j’int;

Seems like we’re frozen to the core, though bundled warm an’ thick –

It’s spring upon the calendar, but not on “Lizzard Crick”.

The long hills slope away to north, an’ on their sides we see

Great patches here an’ there uv snow, background fur rock an’ tree;

The brooks thet flow ‘neath hemlock boughs with ice are covered thick –

It’s spring upon the calendar, but not on “Lizzard Crick”.

The woodpiles round the neighborhood are gittin’ whittled down;

They is a scarcity uv coal all through ol’ Gungy town.

Ef things don’t take a sudden turn we’ll need some fuel quick –

It’s spring within the almanac, but not on “Lizzard Crick”.

We’ve got four feet uv frost here yit, an’ pipes are froze up snug,

So when we hafter lubricate we grab the cider jug!

Things won’t thaw out, so father says, till summer turns the trick –

It’s spring upon the calendar, but not on “Lizzard Crick”.

c. Nov. 22, 1910

(the estimated date comes from adjoining poems and the paper used, including condition. The subject, however, makes it seem as if it might have been written in the late spring, presumably 1910 or 1911?)