Gratitude
[For Music and
Mirth]
I’m
glad that Uncle Ned died long, long ago,
And
that the Old Arm Chair had an arm;
I’m
glad the Grandfather’s Clock has ceased for to go,
And
that the Old Oaken Bucket is Down on the Farm.
JOE
CONE.
Not sure of date written or published.
...including adding "- {unfinished college writing project}" to title.
Lizzard Crick Poems.
’At
Steel Trap.
Ast
uncle once ef I could set
One o’them steel
traps o’ his;
Tol’ ’im
I’d seen some annermul,
Bigger’n what the ol’ cat is,
Down
in the medder nigh the crick;
Seen ’is toe prints in the san’
Nigh
to a hole. Said he guessed not,
I’d be apter ketch my han’.
But
guessed ’at I knew howter set
A steel trap ’thought gittin ketched
Myself,
so I sotter down th’ere,
‘n’ thought how he’d laff w’em I fetched
A coon
or mebbie woodchuck home
Nex’ mornin’ erbout sunrise!
An’ w’en
I creeped up to the hole
Heard some soft an’ mournful cries,
An’ ’ere
wuz aunty’s ol’ black cat
Lookin’ tearful like at me;
‘N’ it made me bawl an’ wisht I’uz dead
Hurt her hin’ laigs so, yo_______
‘N’ I
tuk her out an’ petted _______
“N’ confessed tur uncle
______
An’
he, he jawed, ‘n’en said _____
Bes’ boy wuz on Lizzard Crick
__
[lower
right corner torn off]
