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Show Tile Country Road. From the busy lit 'tis . f the farmer-folk It stars on it.-; win.lii'.rr way. Goes over the hill, and across the brook. Where the minnowa love to piny; Then, past the mill will; its water wheel. And the pond that '-hows the sky: And up to the hridfie b the village store. And the church with its spire so high. You would never think that the country road. From the hill to the store, culd be So long to a boy vi:h an errand to do And another boy t. see. You can never dream how short it is From the farm to the frozen pond. Nor how very much further it always is To the school house just beyond. O, the country road: at the farther end It runs up hill and down. Away from the woods and the rippled brook To the toiling, rushing town. But, best of all, -when you're tired and sick Of the noisy haunts of men. If you follow it back, it will lead you home To the woods and fields again. St. Nicholas. TL f a |