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C J Dennis - Old Pete Parraday
Work rating: Low

Old Pete Paraday, his mind works very slow;
But, when it fastens on a thoughts, he will not let it go.
He measures it and mumbles it until an answer comes,
Just as he mumbles bits and scraps between his toothless gums.
"I likes to think a bit," says he.  "An`, thinkin`, by and large
On these `ere modrun fashions like, `as fairly riz me garge."

Old Pete Paraday, he thinks the joke is rich;
"`Cen-TEN-ary!  Cen-TEEN-ary!`  Did ever you `ear sich?
I never knowed the like," says he: "sich argymints as those.
The proper word is `Century,` as any scholard knows.
An`, when I makes my century, come seven year ahead,
I`ll have you call it `Century,` an` nothin` else instead."

Old Pete Paraday, he cackles in high glee.
"`Cen-TEN-ary!  Cen-TEEN-ary!`  Ho, lahdidah!" says he.
"`Tis these `ere modrun misses is to blame for all sich rot.
They paints their lips and plucks their brows an` thinks they knows a lot.
But I weren`t hatched but yesterdee; an`, sure as you`re alive,
I knows," says old Pete Paraday, "how many beans make five."

Says old Pete Paraday: "I`ve thought it up an` down,
An` back an` front an` crossways, an` likewise roun` an` round`.
The proper word is `Century,` an` means one hundred years.
`Cen-TEN-ary!  Cen-TEEN-ARY!`  They fair gits in yer ears!
So when I reach my century, you call it just that way;
An` none of your noo-fangled stuff," says old Pete Paraday.
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