Abe Peters

 

   Abe Peters

 

 

Abe Peters lived in Gungywamp,

     An’ lived there all alone;

He had a voice sharp as an axe,

     A heart cold as a stone.

Abe Peters never threw a smile,

     Nur spoke a kindly word;

In town affairs or gospel meets

     His voice wuz never heard.

 

An’ all the children round about

     Wuz ’fraid ez they could be;

They crossed the street to let him pass,

     Or dodged behind a tree.

He trudged the windin’ village street,

     Or sat in silence grim;

He never called on anyone,

     Or let them call on him.

 

An’ so Abe Peters lived an’ died

     A hermit, sad an’ sore;

An’ not a tear wuz shed when he

     Went feet first out the door.

A kindly word, a smile or two

     Lights all the darkened way;

An’ people will remember us

     Furever an’ a day.

 

Don’t be Abe Peters o’er again,

     ’Twill shorten up your days;

We all kin spread sunshine around

     In many, many ways.

The path is always dark enough,

     The skies will oft be gray;

Good cheer is just a lantern which

     Will help to light the way.

 

May 2, 1913

(“May 5, 1913” cut off, along with what happened on that date.)