Tuz awful funny! I could see
The red heads in the churry tree;
An' bee-hives, where you got to be
So keerful going by;
An' comp'ny there an' all! An' we--
We et out on the porch! An'--I ist et
p'surves an' things
'At ma don't 'low me to--
An' chickun gizzurds (don't like wings
Like parunts does, do you?)
An' all the time the wind blowed there
An' I could feel it in my hair,
An' ist smell clover ever'where!
An' a old red head flew
Purt' nigh wite over my high chair,
When we et out on the porch!CHAPTER IX.
THE PASSING OF THE PEACOCKS.
I would rather look at a peacock than eat him. The feathers of an
angel and the voice of a devil.
The story of this farm would not be complete without a brief rehearsal
of my experiences, exciting, varied, and tragic, resulting from the
purchase of a magnificent pair of peacocks.
My honest intention on leasing my forty-dollars-a-year paradise was
simply to occupy the quaint old house for a season or two as a relief
from the usual summer wanderings. I would plant nothing but a few hardy
flowers of the old-fashioned kind--an economical and prolonged picnic.
In this way I could easily save in three years sufficient funds to make
a grand
tour du monde.
That was my plan!For some weeks I carried out this resolution, until an event occurred,
which changed the entire current of thought, and transformed a quiet,
rural retreat into a scene of frantic activity and gigantic undertaking.
Pages:
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79