Oh, yes, we’ve be’n fixin’ up some sence we sold that piece o’ groun’
Fer a place to put a golf-lynx to them crazy dudes from town.
(Anyway, they laughed like crazy when I had it specified,
Ef they put a golf-lynx on it, thet they’d haf to keep him tied.)
But they paid the price all reg’lar, an’ then Sary says to me,
“Now we’re goin’ to fix the parlor up, an’ settin’-room,” says she.
Fer she ‘lowed she’d been a-scrimpin’ an’ a-scrapin’ all her life,
An’ she meant fer once to have things good as Cousin Ed’ard’s wife.
Well, we went down to the city, an’ she bought the blamedest mess;
An’ them clerks there must ‘a’ took her fer a’ Astoroid, I guess;
Fer they showed her fancy bureaus which they said was shiffoneers,
An’ some more they said was dressers, an’ some curtains called porteers.
An’ she looked at that there furnicher, an’ felt them curtains’ heft;
Then she sailed in like a cyclone an’ she bought ’em right an’ left;
An’ she picked a Bress’ls carpet thet was flowered like Cousin Ed’s,
But she drawed the line com-pletely when we got to foldin’-beds.
Course, she said, ‘t ‘u’d make the parlor lots more roomier, she s’posed;
But she ‘lowed she’d have a bedstid thet was shore to stay un-closed;
An’ she stopped right there an’ told us sev’ral tales of folks she’d read
Bein’ overtook in slumber by the “fatal foldin’-bed.”
“Not ef it wuz set in di’mon’s! Nary foldin’-bed fer me!
I ain’t goin’ to start fer glory in a rabbit-trap!” says she.
“When the time comes I’ll be ready an’ a-waitin’; but ez yet,
I shan’t go to sleep a-thinkin’ that I’ve got the triggers set.”
Well, sir, shore as yo”re a-livin’, after all thet Sary said,
‘Fore we started home that evenin’ she hed bought a foldin’-bed;
An’ she’s put it in the parlor, where it adds a heap o’ style;
An’ we’re sleepin’ in the settin’-room at present fer a while.
Sary still maintains it’s han’some, “an’ them city folks’ll see
That we’re posted on the fashions when they visit us,” says she;
But it plagues her some to tell her, ef it ain’t no other use,
We can set it fer the golf-lynx ef he ever sh’u’d get loose.