Like the New Friends Best

Don't talk to me o' old time friends, But jes give me the new. The old friends may be good enough, But somehow they won't do, I don't care for their old time ways; Their questions you'll allow Are soulless as a parrot's gab:— "Well, what you up to now?" That's one thing I've agin 'em, 'Cause that with all the rest, Like hintin' 'bout some old time debt; I like my new friends best.

I meet an old friend in the street, As oftentimes I do, Mechanically he stops to shake An' say: "Well, how are you?" Then drawin' down his face, as if His cheeks was filled with lead, He says: "I spose you've heard the news?" "No!" "Eli Stubbs is dead. An' 'fore he died he ast for you— Seemed sorry you was gone, An' said 'at what he'd let you have He hoped would help you on." Now that's why I don't like 'em much, You prob'bly might have guessed, I aint got much agin' 'em, but I like the new friends best.

Old friends are most too home-like now. They know your age, and when You got expelled from school, and lots Of other things, an' then They 'member when you shivereed The town an' broke the lights Out of the school 'nen run away An' played "Hunt Cole" out nights. They 'member when you played around Your dear old mommy's knee; It's them can tell the very date That you got on a spree. I don't like to forget 'em, yet If put right to the test Of hankerin' right now for 'em, I like the new friends best.