| Show PAWPAWS RIPE The sunny plains of Kansas dozed In soft October haze Tho wayside leaves and 4 grass disclosed Scarce sign of autumn days The cornstalks bent their ears of gold To list thq crickets din And fields of sprouting wheat foretold The farmers laden bin Many a movers caravan Stretched westward far away As they had moved since spring began To where the homesteads lay Their wagonsheets were snowy white XThelr cattle sleek and stout Their childrens merry faces bright With blooming health shone out But ho what apparation queer Is this that looms in sight Has Rip Van Winkle wandered here Just from his waking plight Has one of the Lost Tribes come back With remnant of his band And eastward turned once more his track To seek the Promised land Beneath yon shade Ill sit me thereUpon there-Upon that bank of grass And Inventory as it were These nomads as they pass There may be reason wise and strong Unknown to us why they Of all the steady moving throng Are on the backward way A wagon of past ages built On model lost to art A dirty ragged faded quilt Supplied a covers part Wheels of four sizes tireless now With many a missing spoke A threelegged mule a onehorned cow Tugged slowly in the yoke A man of fiveandforty years With beard of grizzled brown A brimless hat sat on his ears His hair strayed through the crown His pants of dingy butternut His coat of tarnished blue His feet with no Incumbrance but Mismated boot and shoe Six hungry curs of low degree Sneaked at their masters heels Or underneath the axletree Kept measure with the wheels Packed In the feedingbox behind A timeworn jug is spied Whoso corncob stopper hints the kind or nourishment Inside Nine boys and girls with rheumy eyes Stowed in with beds and tins Were all so nearly of a size They might have well been twins The mother as a penance sore For loss of youth and hope Seemed to have vowed long years before To fast from comb and soap Halloo my friend a brood like that I Should head the other way The land Is broad and free and fat Go take It while you may Raising his glazed and dirty sleeve He gave his mouth a wipe And answered with a sighing heave Stranger pawpaws is ripe Dont tell me of your corn and wheat What do I care for such Dont say your schools is hard to beat And Kansas soil Is rich Stranger a years beon lost by me Searchin your Kansas siles And not a pawpaw did I see For miles and miles and miles Missouris good enough for me The bottom timbers wide The best of llvin thar Is free I And spread on every side In course the health aint good for some II But were not of that stripe Hey Bet and Tobe were gwlen home Git up Pawpaws is ripe I He cracked his whip and off they went The mule and cow and dogs I I I watched them till they all were blent With distant haze and fogs And as the blue smoke heavenward curled Ua from his corncob pipe He dreamed not of that better world For here pawpaws were ripeSol Sol Miller |
