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a-fishin Abe Lincoln acrost agin ain't Back in old Big Red Apple Bill Smith Billy blossom BOWERS'S BROTHER IKE brown Brown's Philosophy bullfrogs beller Calhoun County Charley Smith cheerful heart COUNTY CHRISTMAS TREE cyard daisies dear dream drink EUGENE FIELD eyes f'om feller fishin fit to kill folks fond coquette forgot galoot grindin hath hear the bullfrogs heerd Here's hooray Jennie Kerr JIST PLAIN JIM Joe Bowers JOE BOWERS'S BROTHER Johnny Loney Boy ketched kids kiss land laurel life's Lincoln's Tomb lips Little Johnny Loney little tike living Lonesome Avenue look Mary Ann Minky Peters mother Never mind nothin old Mizzoury onct opera pasture lot pawpaw Pettigrew PIKE COUNTY CHRISTMAS poem rest Sally Shanks's mare Simmons Crick skies smile sorry soul spile stile sweet things worth thought tuck Twas what's Wull yearn yonder You-all
Page 39 - JOE BOWERS. My name it is Joe Bowers, And I've got a brother Ike; I came from old Missouri, And all the way from Pike. I'll tell you why I left there, And why I came to roam, And leave my poor old mammy, So far away from home.
Page 10 - most dead. But the thoughts of my dear Sally soon made them feelings git And whispered hopes to Bowers. I wish I had 'em yit. 5 At length I went to mining, put in my biggest licks, Went down upon the boulders just like a thousand bricks. I worked both late and early, in rain, in sun, in snow. I was working for my Sally; 'twas all the same to Joe. 6 At length I got a letter from my dear brother Ike. It came from old Missouri, all the way from Pike.
Page 9 - Joe Bowers, Before we hitch for life, You ought to get a little home To keep your little wife.
Page 73 - And keep the ship o' state afloat I sent him both my sons, And would 'a' gone myself and loved to make the bullets whiz 'F it hadn't b'en I couldn't walk account o' rheumatiz. Wull, Abe — my little Abe, I mean — he started out with Grant ; They buried him at Shiloh. . . . Excuse me, but I can't Help feelin' father-like, you know, for them was likely boys; The' wasn't two another sich that went f'om Illinoise.
Page 10 - At length I went to mining, Put in my biggest licks; Went down upon the boulders Just like a thousand bricks. I worked both late and early, In rain, in sun, in snow; I was working for my Sally — 'Twas all the same to Joe.
Page 72 - em sich a drubbin' that they'd clean forgit his looks, For Abe made up in common sense the things he lacked in books. Wull, nex' election I got beat, and Abe come back alone ; I kep' a-clinkin' on the farm, pervidin
Page 73 - tain't the shame that makes me weep. It's how Abe Lincoln, president, at Washin'ton, DC, Had time to ricolleck the days he used to room with me! For don't you know I wrote to him they'd sentenced to be shot His namesake, Lincoln Pettigrew, in shame to die and rot, The son o' his old crony and the last o' my twin boys He used to plague me so about at Springfiel', Illinoise. Did he ? Did Abe ? Wull, now, he sent a telegraph so quick It burnt them bottles on the poles and made the lightnin
Page 71 - Abe was cronies then ; I'll not forgit it soon. I'll not forgit them happy days we used to sort o' batch Together in a little room that didn't have no latch To keep the other fellers out that liked to come and stay And hear them dasted funny things Abe Lincoln used to say.
Page 74 - I've come down here — Firs' time I b'en in Springfiel' for nigh on sixty year — To see his grave and tombstone, because ... because, you see, We legislated in cahoots, Abe Lincoln...
Page 73 - ... Wull, Abe — my little Abe, I mean — he started out with Grant ; They buried him at Shiloh. . . . Excuse me, but I can't Help feelin' father-like, you know, for them was likely boys; The' wasn't two another sich that went f'om Illinoise. And Lincoln — my son Lincoln — he went on by hisself, A-grievin...