Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1875-04-30
OUT or THE OLD HOUSE, NAN
GY
A FARM BALLAD.



AFARM BALLAD.
By WILL H. CARLETON
Out of the old honse, Nsncy-moved up into the
All the hurry and worry rs just as good a. thro'.
Only boundef duty remains for You and l,
And that's to stand on the door step, here and bid
the old house goodbye.
What shell we've lived in these nineteen or twen-
Wonder Il hadn't smashed in, and tumbled about
Wonder it stuck together and answered till to-
day,
Things looked rather new. though, when this old
house was built
And things that blossomed you would've made
some women wilt;
And every other day. then, as sure as day would
break,
Ny neighbors' Ager come this way, invitin' me to
And you, for want Of neighbora, was sometimes
blue and sad,
For wolves and bears and wildcats was the near
| est ones we had;
But lookin' ahead to the clearin, We worked with
all our might,
Until we was fairly out Of the woods and things
was goin' right
Look up there at our new house !-aint it . thing
to see!
Tall, and big and handsome. and new as new can
All in apple-pie order, especially the shelves, -,
And never debt to say but what we own 1t all
ourselves.
Look at our old log house-how little it now ap-
But ite never gone back on us, for nineteen or
An won't 60 back on it now, so to pokin' fun.
There's such thing prasin' thing for the good
hat honh
Probably hiy,y you remember how rich we was that
When we was fairly settled and had things snug
and tight;
We feel as proud as you please, Nancy, over our
house that's new,
But we felt as proud under this old roof, and
good deal prouder, too.
Never handsomcr house was seen beneath the
Kitchen an parlor an bedroom had 'em all
in one;
And the fat old wooden clock that We bought
when we come West,
Was tickin' away in the corner, there. an dom
it's level best.
Trees was all around us, whsperin' cheering
words,
Loud was the squirrels chatter. and sweet was
the sound Of birds;
And home grew sweeter and brighter-our cour-
age began to mount
And things looked hearty and happy. then and
work appeared to count.
And here, one night it happened, when things was
We fell in deep old quarrel-the first we ever
had
And when you give out and CRIED then like
And then We agreed to rub out and start the thing
again.
Here 1t was, You remember, we sat when the dav
was done,
And you was a maxim clothing that rasnt for ei
And often soft word Of love was 1oft enough to
And the wolves was howlin' in the woods, not
twenty rods away.
Then our first born baby; regular little joy,
Though fretted little because it wasn't boy;
Wasn't she little firt, though, with all her pouts
and smiles!
Why, settlers come to see that show, a half doz-
miles.
Yonder sat the cradle-a homely, home made
And many night I've rocked it, providin' you
would sing;
And many little squatter brought up with us to
And so that cradle, for many year was never put
away.
How they growed! Twas wonder how we found
room for em all
But though the house was crowded, 1t empty
seemed that day.
When Jennie lay by the fireside, there, an moan
ed her life away.
And right in there the preacher, with bible and
hymn-boo stood,
"'Twxt the dead and the living" and hoped
twould do us good"
And the little whtewood coffin on the table there
was set
And now as 1 rub my eyes it seems as if l could
see it yet.
Then, that fit of sickness it brought on you, you
Just by a thread you hung. and you cen a most
And here is the spot tumbled, an give the Lord
His due.
When the Doctor said the feverd turned an he
could fetch y you through.
Yes, deal has happened to make this old house
Christenin's, funerals, weddings, what havn't we
had heref
Not log in this 0uildin' but its memories has
And not a nail in this old floor but touches ten
der spot.
Out of the old house, Nancy-moved up into the
All the hurry and worry is just as good as thro';
But tell you thing right here, that amt asha-
There's % precious things in this old house we never
can take away.
Here the old house will stand, but not as it stood
before;
Winds will whistle through 1t, and rains will flood
the floor;
And over the hearth, once blazing the snow-drifts
oft will pile,
And the old thing vill seem to be mournin' all
the while.
Fare you well, old house? you're naught that can
feel or see, ,
| But YOU seem like o human being-a dear old
friend, to me;
| And we never will have better home, II my opin-
ion stands,
Until we commence keepin' house, in the house
not made with hands.