Writin’ Back To The Home-Folks

My dear old friends—It jes beats all, The way you write a letter So’s ever’ _last_ line beats the _first_, And ever’ _next_-un’s better!— W’y, ever’ fool-thing you putt down You make so inte_rest_in’, A feller, readin’ of ’em all, Can’t tell which is the _best_-un.

It’s all so comfortin’ and good, ’Pears-like I almost _hear_ ye And git more sociabler, you know, And hitch my cheer up near ye And jes smile on ye like the sun Acrosst the whole per-rairies In Aprile when the thaw’s begun And country couples marries.

It’s all so good-old-fashioned like To _talk_ jes like we’re _thinkin’_, Without no hidin’ back o’ fans And giggle-un and winkin’, Ner sizin’ how each other’s dressed— Like some is allus doin’,— “_Is_ Marthy Ellen’s basque be’n _turned_ Er shore-enough a new-un!”—

Er “ef Steve’s city-friend hain’t jes ‘A _lee_tle kindo’-sorto’”— Er “wears them-air blame’ eye-glasses Jes ’cause he hadn’t ort to?”— And so straight on, _dad-libitum_, Tel all of us feels, _some_way, Jes like our “comp’ny” wuz the best When we git up to come ’way!

That’s why I like _old_ friends like _you_,— Jes ’cause you’re so _abidin’_.— Ef I wuz built to live “_fer keeps_,” My principul residin’ Would be amongst the folks ’at kep’ Me allus _thinkin’_ of ’em, And sorto’ eechin’ all the time To tell ’em how I love ’em.—

Sich folks, you know, I jes love so I wouldn’t live without ’em, Er couldn’t even drap asleep But what I _dreamp’_ about ’em,— And ef we minded God, I guess We’d _all_ love one another Jes like one famb’ly,—me and Pap And Madaline and Mother.