The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1873-08-05

over the Hill from tne ROOT nouse'
ny WILL ". CARLETON.
|, who was always counted, they say.
RATHER a bad stick nuy way;
splnteird all oyci Win dodges and tricks,
known rs - the worst of the Descons SIX,
4, the tIuant, saucy and bold,
The one black sheep in my fathers fold
"Once on time" MS the stories say,
Went over the hill on a winters day
Over the hill TO the poor house.
Tom could save what twenty could earn,
But gvin' was something he never could learn,
Isaac could half o the scripture speak
Committed hundred verses week,
Never forgot and never slipped
But Honor thy father and mother he skipped
So over the hill to the poor house.
As for Susan, her heart was kind
An good-what there was of it, mind;
Nothin' too big, an nothin' too nice,
Nothin' she wouldn't sacrince
For one she loved an that ere one
Was herself, when all was said an done
An Carley an 'Becca meant well, no doubt,
But any one could pull em about.
An all our folks ranked we'll, you see,
Save one poor fellow-an' that was me.
An when, one dark and rainy night,
A neighbours horse went out Of sight,
They hitched on inc as the guilty chap
That carried one end of the halter strap,
An think, myself that view Of the case
Wasn't altogether out o. place.
My mother denied it, as mothers do,
But am inclined to believe twas true,
Though for me one thing might be said
That / as well as the horse was led,
And the worst of whiskey spurred me on,
Or else the deed would have never been done.
But the kcenest grief ever felt
Was when my mother beside me knelt,
Al .1J - IL 1t.l
As l wouldn't for half the horses in town,
kissed her fondly, then and there
And swore henceforth to be honest and square,
l served my sentence--a bitter pill
Some fellows should take who never will;
An then decided to go out West
Concludin' 'twould suit my health the best;
Where, how prospered l never could tell,
But fortune seemed to like me well,
And somehow every vein 1 struck
Was always bubblin' over with luck;
An, better than that, l was steady and true,
An put my good resolutions through.
But wrote to trusty old neighbor, an said
You tell 'em, old fellow, that am dead,
An died Christian; twill please 'em more
Than If had lived the same as before
But when this neighbor he wrote to me,
" Your mothers in the poor house." says he.
l had resurrection straightway,
An started for her that very day.
And when arrived where l was grown
took good care that shouldn't be known;
But bought the old cottage, through an through
Of some one Charley had cold it to,
And held back neither work nor gold
TO fix it up as it was of old,
The same big fireplace, wide an high,
Flung up its cinders toward the sky;
The old clock licked on the corner shelf
wound it and set it a-going myself
An if everything wasn't just the sane.
Neither nor the money was to blame;
Then-over the hill to the poor house.
One BLOWN, blusterin, winters day,
With team an cutter / started away;
My fiery nags was as black as coal,
An they somewhat resembled the horse stole
hitched, and entered the poor house door
A poor old woman was scrubbin the floor;
She rose to her feet in great SURPRISE
An looked, quite startled, into my eyes
l saw the whole of her troubles trace
In the lines that marred her dear old face.
Mother" l shouted, your sorrows is done
You're adopted along o your horse-thief son;
Come over the hill from the poor house
She didn't faint; she knclt by nv side,
An thanked the Lord till | fairly cried
An maybe our ride wasn't pleasant an gay,
An maybe she wasn't wrapped up that day;
An maybe our cottage wasn't warm an bright
An maybe it wasn't pleasant sight
10 see her a-gettin' the evenings tea,
An frequently stopping an kissing me-
An maybe we didn't live happy for years,
In spite of my brothers and sisters sneers,
Who often said, as have heard,
That they wouldn't own prison bird
(Ihough they're gettin' over that, 1 guess,
For all of them owe Inc more or less
But I've learned one thng-an' it cheers man
In always doin' the best he can
That whether, on the big book, n blot
Gets over a fellows name or not,
Whenever he does deed that's white
It's credited to him fair and right;
An when you hear the great bugle notes
An the Lord divides his sheep an goats
However they may settle my case,
Wherever they may fix my place.
Ny good old Christian mother, you'll see,
Will be sure to stand right up for me,
With-over the hill from the Door house.