I'm in earnest; let me ask you--

'Cause I want to reason fair--

What durn business has that rope-necked

Johnson sneaking over there?

4  

Hands so soft and strong and tender,

When I shook a "how de do,"

They was loaded sure with something

Seemed to thrill me through and through;

Hair as black as fire-burnt prairie;

Eyes that dance and flash and flirt;

Every time she smiled she showed you

Teeth as white's my Sunday shirt.

Baked us biscuits light as cotton;

I can't eat mine any more,--

I must get some better breeches,--

Kind o' 'shamed of those I wore;

But I'm goin' there to-morrow,

Like enough I'll stay all day,

Seems to me too dry for plowing--

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