NEW HAMPSHIRE
The wife of a farmer in the southern part of the
state had been married three times. Her maiden name was Wren, her first husband was named Partridge, her second husband Hawk, and the present Quaile.
There are two young
Hawks, a Partridge, and two Quailes in the family. One grandfather
was a Jay and another a Swan, but they are both dead as ducks now. They live on Loon Island in Heron Lake and the author of this is
a Lyre and a relative of the family!
FARM
COUNTRY
A hen laid
an egg for 167 consecutive days. There's an old saying in
every hen-house that an egg a day keeps the hatchet away.
"I
saw a cowslip on the stream bank." said a tourist returning from a
walk.
"I hope 'twa'nt
one of my cows," said the old farmer. "Did
she slip all the way in?"
Harvey
Holden always carried pail after pail of water from the
century old well, through the orchard and across the calf
pen to the kitchen. There the farmer's wife washed for
all the family. Lugging water was no easy chore.
"How many
years you been carring water?" asked a leaf peeker.
"Goin' on
twelve years."
responded Harvey, swinging his pails.
"My, my!" said the wealthy leaf peeker,
in a commiserating tone: "How much water do you suppose you've
carried in that time?"
"I've
carried all that's been in the well during that time that
isn't there now." said Harvey Holden.
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Old George Barton of Crawdad Corners read a
newspaper article which he thought would be of interest
to a friend.
"I observe by
dis papah,"
said George, "dat
de smallest cows in de world is to be found in de South
Seas. Dis papah says dat de average weight of sich a cow
does not exceed one hundred an' fifty pounds."
"Doe yo'
suppose,"
asked the listener, "dat
dat's where dey gits condensed milk from?"
"Say, Sam!" hollered a friend from across
the road. "There's
a feller down at the junction store that swears he's
gonna whip you soon as he sees you."
"Sorry to
disapp'int 'em, Bart," responded Sam Bump from Possum Pasture, "but I've just got word
that Hank Water's gonna shoot me the next time he gets a
chance. I'd like to accommodate this other feller, but if
you see him you tell him I've got to give Hank first chance."
A sleek new sports
car swerved, collided with a telephone pole, and turned
over with its driver trapped underneath.
"'Tain't no
use tryin' to hide under ther, young feller!" roared the Sheriff of Catfish
County as he rushed toward the wrecked car. "I know where you
are!"
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A General Store
Let's open the door of the general store
And feast our eyes on sights galore
The cracker barrel, the wheels of cheese,
Men with a checkerboard on their knees,
Bolts of calico, ribbons and lace,
Oh, what a charmingn friendly place.
The coffee
grinder painted red,
Lard in a bucket, lamps overhead,
Pats of butter, rice in a bin,
Delicious syrup in squares of tin,
Slabs of bacon, ladders and hoes,
Rakes and shovels standing in rows.
Fragrant
loaves of homemade bread
Parading next to a case of thread.
See the ropes and shining pails,
The little round barrels filled with nails,
And the candy counter, ah, what bliss,
There you can find a taffy kiss,
Or squares
of molasses honeycomb
To relish all the way back home.
Licorice whips and maple cigars,
Peppermint sticks in bright glass jars,
Lemon drops and chocolate creams,
The answer to a childhood's fondest dreams.
Bananas
yellow from tropic isle,
Long black stockings made of lisle,
Shirts and overalls, firm and strong,
Oh, how endless is my song!
Isn't it fun to open the door
And take a trip through the gereral store?
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