Mylo’s wife she says she’s found
Home hain’t home with men-folks round
When they’s work like Hern to do-
Picklin’ pears and BUTCHERN, too,
And a-rendern lard, and then
Cookin’ fer a pack of men
To come trackin’ up the flore
she’s scrubbed tel she’ll scrub no more!—­
Yit she’d keep things clean ef they
Made her scrub tel Jedgmunt Day!

Mylo Jones’s wife she sews
Carpet-rags and patches clothes
Jest year in and out!—­and yit
Whare’s the livin’ use of it? 
She asts Mylo that.—­And he
Gits back whare he’d ruther be,
With his team;—­jest plows—­and don’t
Never sware—­like some folks won’t! 
Think ef he’d Cut loose, I gum! 
’D he’p his heavenly chances some!

Mylo’s wife don’t see no use,
Ner no reason ner excuse
Fer his pore relations to
Hang round like they allus do! 
Thare ’bout onc’t a year—­and she—­
She jest GA’NTS ’em, folks tells me,
On spiced pears!—­Pass Mylo one,
He says “No, he don’t chuse none!”
Workin’men like Mylo they
’D ort to have meat ev’ry day!

Dad-burn Mylo Jones’s wife! 
Ruther rake a blame caseknife
’Crost my wizzen than to see
Sich a womern rulin’ me!—­
Ruther take and turn in and
Raise a fool mule-colt by hand’
Mylo, though—­od-rot the man!—­
Jest keeps ca’m—­like some folks can—­
And ’lows sich as her, I s’pose,
Is man’s HE’PMEET’—­Mercy knows!

HOW JOHN QUIT THE FARM

Nobody on the old farm here but Mother, me and
       John,
Except, of course, the extry he’p when harvest-time
       comes on,—­
And then, I want to say to you, we needed he’p about,
As you’d admit, ef you’d a-seen the way the crops turned
       out!

A better quarter-section ner a richer soil warn’t found
Than this-here old-home place o’ ourn fer fifty miles
      around!—­
The house was small—­but plenty-big we found it from
      the day
That John—­our only livin’ son—­packed up and went
      away.

You see, we tuk sich pride in John—­his mother more’n
      me—­
That’s natchurul; but both of us was proud as proud
      could be;
Fer the boy, from a little chap, was most oncommon
      bright,
And seemed in work as well as play to take the same de-
      light.

He allus went a-whistlin’ round the place, as glad at heart
As robins up at five o’clock to git an airly start;
And many a time ’fore daylight Mother’s waked me up
     to say—­
“Jest listen, David!—­listen!—­Johnny’s beat the birds
     to-day!”

High-sperited from boyhood, with a most inquirin’ turn,—­
He wanted to learn ever’thing on earth they was to learn: 
He’d ast more plaguy questions in a mortal-minute here
Than his grandpap in Paradise could answer in a year!