showin' signs o' wear! They set up ha'f the night an' sing,—no use ter try ter sleep, With them a-askin' folks ter "Dig a grave both wide an' deep,"   An' "Who will smoke my mashum pipe?" By gee! I tell yer what:   If they want me to dig their graves, I'd jest as soon as not! There ain't no comfort now at meals; I can't take off my coat, Nor use my knife to eat, nor tie my napkin 'round my throat, Nor drink out of my sasser. Gosh! I hardly draw my breath   'Thout Mary Ann a-tellin' me she's "mortified to death!"   Before they came our breakfast time was allus ha'f-past six; By thunderation! 't wouldn't do; you'd orter hear the kicks! So jest to suit 'em 't was put off till sometime arter eight, An' when a chap gits up at four that's mighty long ter wait. The idee was that Mary Ann would help her Ma; but, land! She can't be round a minute but some boarder's right on hand Ter take her out ter walk or ride—she likes it well enough, But when you 're gittin' grub for twelve, Ma finds it kinder tough. We ain't a-sayin' nothin' now, we'll see this season through, But folks that bought one gold brick ain't in love with number two; An' if you're passin' down our way next summer, cast your eye At our front fence. You'll see a sign,     "NO BOARDERS NEED APPLY."  

 

     A COLLEGE TRAINING 

  Home from college came the stripling, calm and cool and debonair, With a weird array of raiment and a wondrous wealth of hair, With a lazy love of languor and a healthy hate of work And a cigarette devotion that would shame the turbaned Turk. And he called his father "Guv'nor," with a cheek serene and rude, While that raging, wrathful rustic calld his son a "blasted dude."   And in dark and direful language muttered threats of coming harm To the "idle, shif'less critter" from his father's good right arm. And the trouble reached a climax on the lawn behind the shed,—   "Now, I'm gon' ter lick yer, sonny," so the sturdy parent said,   "And I'll knock the college nonsense from your noddle, mighty quick!"—   Then he lit upon that chappy like a wagon-load of brick. But the youth serenely murmured, as he gripped his angry dad,   "You're a clever rusher, Guv'nor, but you tackle very bad"; And he rushed him through the center and he tripped him for a fall, And he scored a goal and touchdown with his papa as the ball. 

 

  Then a cigarette he lighted, as he slowly strolled away, Saying, "That was jolly, Guv'nor, now we'll practice every day"; While his father from the puddle, where he 

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