The Boy On The Farm

Out in Oldham County once     Met a boy who showed me how     He could milk an old red cow.     Yes; he was n't any dunce.     Put me on an old-gray mare;     Rode me to an old mill, where     They were grinding corn. He filled     A big sack and then we sat     By the dam and there he killed     A black snake, as long as that.     Then he showed me how to row     In an old flat boat that leaked,     Where the dam was stained and streaked     With big lilies, white as snow.     Then he showed me how to swim     Jumping from a sycamore limb:     While he splashed around, why, I     Waded up and down the shore;     Then, when he was dressed and dry,     Mounted that old mare once more.     And he took the bag of meal     "That's for corn-cakes, " so he said:     "And it makes the grandest bread!     Cornbread. Ain't it heavy? Feel."     And he slung it on across     That old mare, who, with a toss     Of her tail, turned right for home.     On the way he showed me where     Hornets had their nest, like some     Foot-ball made of paper there.     And he showed me how to catch     Bumblebees and how to keep     Them from stinging; made a leap,     Caught one in a clover-patch;     And he showed me then where they     Stow their honey-bags away:     Caught two bees and was n't stung:     Took one's bag and gave it me,     And I put it on my tongue:     Sweet! yes sir, and smelt of bee.     Then he caught a locust; took     Its two wings, like some queer toy's;     Showed me how it made its noise;     Held it up and shook and shook     Till it rattled. And that night     Showed me, with a lantern light,     How the pond-toads puffed their throats,     Each one like a toy-balloon,     Swelling, piping reedy notes,     Making music for the moon.     No; he was n't any dunce;     No, sir. Why, he'd tell the time     By the sun, he could. And climb!     Climbed a great tall poplar once     Hundred feet or more, and straight     As the flag-pole at our gate.     When he's up there, took his hat,     Tossed it up and cried, "Hurrah!"     Bet you no man could do that;     No! not even my own Pa.     Lose him? Why, he'd tell his way     In the darkest night, he could;     In the deepest, darkest wood,     By the stars, he said: by day     Knew it by these lichens on     Trunks of trees. When I am grown     He's a-going to teach me all     Everything he knows; and I'm     Going there again this Fall     Live there, may be, all the time.