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Show SHEARS AND, SAWBUCK Shears and Sawbuck kept a store Such as never was before. City Fowks thev wouldn't sell. Couldn't lot them have a smell. Fetched their money but by jinn. Couldn't buy a blessed thing, Couldn't meet 'em face to face And then sell 'em wil l good grace. Country trade was what they sought., Fowks who'd pay for what they bought 'Fore they saw it, hide or tail. They sent catalogues by mail Out to every blessed one Gittin' mail at Possum Run. We set up at night and read When we'd orter been in bed. Book was, about as big as sin. Had a lot of pictures in, And a list of merchandise. Every kind and every size Giving prices that they swore Knocked out every courftry store. Looked so straight and seemed s true I bit at it Jim did, too. Jim's my neighbor cross tiie way. Best man ever worked in hay. Just let him top off a stack. Sheds rain like a turtle's back. Pleasure jest to see him work, Never knew old Jim to shirk; Swings a scythe like it was play, Love to watch him in the way. Well we like a pair of fools Sent off -got some hayin' tools. Jim got harness and a plow, I, a range, I see it now; Drat the thing, it was so light Used it for a torch at night. Throwed the darn thing in the yard, Use it now for rendering lanl. 'Fore Jim used the plow an hour Found the blame thing wouldn't scour; Tried his harness broke a tug-Sought tug-Sought for solace in his ju Vn the cooler all the niirht Jim reflected on his plight; In the morning, Richard Siout, Hardware merchant, bailed him out. Jim said after that he'd stick Close as bark to good ol' Dick. Since he left the Possum jail Says he wont buy goods by mail. Says Dick's cheaper am how Might have saved some on the plow. On the other goods some more. At his old friend's hardware store. Jim says, "We can't sell no truck To sich folks as Shears Sawbuck. They'll take all our cash away. But wont buy our corn or hay." That seemed purtv strange to me So I told ol' Jim I'd see So I wrote to them that night Jist to see if Jim was right. Ast' 'em "What they'd pay for oats? Could they use some likely shoats? Had about four tons of hay I could ship 'em right away. Could I furnish Mr. Shears With his family roastin' ears: Also would my friend Sawbuck Buy some of my garden truck?" Answer came one summer day Said they couldn't use our hay. Couldn't use our oats or shoats, Didn't like our Billy goats. When they needed truck to eat Bought it down on water street Sorry but they must refuse Anything but cash to use. I sat down an' wrote 'em then: "Hate to trouble you again. But I want to thank you sirs For your bunch of cockle buns. If you love your fellor man, Do him good, sirs, when you can While our merchants sweetly sleep Shears und Sawbuck shear your sheep. |