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James Whitcomb Riley - The Old Hay-Mow
Work rating: Medium

The Old Hay-mow`s the place to play
Fer boys, when it`s a rainy day!
I good-`eal ruther be up there
Than down in town, er anywhere!

When I play in our stable-loft,
The good old hay`s so dry an` soft,
An` feels so fine, an` smells so sweet,
I `most ferget to go an` eat.

An` one time wunst I _did_ ferget
To go `tel dinner was all et,--
An` they had short-cake--an`--Bud he
Hogged up the piece Ma saved fer me!

Nen I won`t let him play no more
In our hay-mow where I keep store
An` got hen-eggs to sell,--an` shoo
The cackle-un old hen out, too!

An` nen, when Aunty she was here
A-visitun from Rensselaer,
An` bringed my little cousin,--_he_
Can come up there an` play with me.

But, after while--when Bud he bets
`At I can`t turn no summersetts,--
I let him come up, ef he can
Ac` ha`f-way like a gentleman!
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