OCR Text |
Show COUNTRY WORK IN THE MISSION FIELD By Elder Orln W. Allen, Logan, Utah Geo whiz I'd glvo a million boues To bo back homo asleeplng, My shoes ore so full of burs and stones, It makes mo feel like weeping. Lust night I sought n stack of hay, Where slumbers fetters bound mo And nt tho cold break of day. A husky farmer found mo. I tried to pacify his nlbo Whllo ho stood thoro nnd blessed mo AlnBl his pitchfork smoto my ribs And stogy shoes caressed mo. Tho dogs throughout this country, too, All seem to think they need me; They'ro gathering samples of my clothes, And many times have treed mo. i Now when I seo a vicious dog, Wbero trees nro senrco to climb, I pass them up, you bet that's me, No light with dogs In mine. Ono day I sat mo down to rest Quito faint nnd somewhat dizzy. Upon n lnrgo bold hornets nest, And all tho bees got busy. I Jumped up quick and how I rubbed Those pnntul stings to sootho, Till n wnrmlng inspiration told me, John you'd better move. And when I roamed tho woodland path, To seo tho wild flowers tlutlng, A bull persued mo In Its wrath, Till I broko all records sprinting. Hut when I cleared tho pasture fence, Somo farmer beard mo shout, I'd rather stand hero looking In, Than on tho Inside looking out. This mission llfo Is very good, When nil Is nlco and swcot, And whon you havo no troublo, Getting whnt you wnnt to cat. Hut when you'ro all in, down and out And find no placo to rest, It makes you think no placo llko homo. Come take mo back out West. |