Skip to main content
“So Lidy Thomas wants a girl f'r housework! Well, I do declare
That woman never keeps one more'n two weeks!
Somethin' wrong up there!
I heerd her las' girl tellin' how she didn't git enough to eat,
But that was only servants' talk—sech gossip as I won't repeat!
An' Lucy Brown is gone to teachin' music down at Bridger's Dell
An' quit the church as organist! Well, I allow it's just as well,
From what I've heard about her bein' mighty sweet on Parson Brooks;
An' him a married man! I say there's danger in too much good looks!

“Joe Gudger's married! Well, I vow if sech rapscallious folks as him
Can find a partner f'r their joys my chances ain't so mighty slim!
Close! Why, his first wife's sister says she'll swear it with her dyin' breath
Joe Gudger was so stingy that his first wife simply starved to death!
Another party up at Blake's! My, how some folks can put on airs
An' snub their betters puzzles me! Why, Toby Toser's clerk declares
They owe f'r three months' groceries—they never pay and never will;
An' Toby's wore a pair o' shoes out goin' up to git th' bill!

“Jane Hitchcock an' that gawky Burns hev gone an' married! Well, I do
Declare it's time he popped to her if ever he intended to!
He's been her stiddy beau eight years an' but f'r Jim Burns I allow
She might 'a' been a happy wife an' had a family by now!
An' Ezry Cowles 's got th' grip! Well, if it cost a cent t' git
Y' can mark down that Ezry Cowles 'd be a long time gittin' it!
There's only one thing that would tempt that man t' quit this life o' sin,
An' that would be a cut-rate sale on coffins, with a hearse throwed in.

“Lem Wilson's addin' to his house! I wonder where poor Lem'll git
Th' cash. Ain't got th' mor'gage paid he had to put on t'other, yit.
Now that's what comes fr'm weddin' style; Lem was a thrifty, savin' soul
Until he married that Sue Clay, an' she's just goin' through him whole!
Tod White is dead. Poor Tod! His chance o' reachin' Heaven 's mighty slim.
But bein' as he's dead I won't be one to say no bad of him.
Th' paper's sort o' runnin' down, at least accordin' to my views;
I don't know as I ever see th' Weekly with so little news.”
Rate this poem
No votes yet
Reviews
No reviews yet.