The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1880-06-26
THE SCOUTS IN CAMP.
t.Wyoming Kit" in Detroit Free Pres


inWyoming Kit,' in Detroit Free Press.l
.pile on few more pine knots Tom; it's
snappin' cold tonight
The wind from Rocky Canon comes with
keenest kind o. bite
Let's hev r0usin' old camp fire, an then
we'll have chat;
Please hand my rifle over hyar-must Keep
my paw on that
A feller doesn't alters know jist when he'll
need his gun
Jist when the cussed Injun sneaks ar hunt
in arter fun.
Light up yer pipe, old pardner, thar's moth
in like smoke
To fill the intermission thets atween each
yarn or joke.
"I don't know what's got inter me, fur on
the trail to-day,
MY thoughts hev bin scoutin, round q
camp thet's far away!
A camp thet's in Gods country near thet
bright Ohio stream,
An the mem'ries Of the past KEEP crowdn'
on me like dream!
l seed the old log farm house, whar' l spent
my early days;
TIE school house with its noisy crew; the
boys in all their plays;
l could see the old red meetln' house, whar'
once jined the church
Stood in with pious folks while, then left
'cm in the lurch!
"God bless that old red meetin' house! l
tell We, Tom, it makes
NV heart heat up with warmest love, an
every fibre quakes,
When mem ries shoot across my trail, OF all
the joys seed,
Afore l .jined the gen'ral rush in the '49
stampede!
(JThoa, chief! you cussed IDIOT! Don't
jump at every sound!
Best fill yerself with grass-whoa, boy! jist
quit thet snortin' round!
Git back thar to yer grazin'-that war q
wolf you heard
Or else the hootin' Of an owl, or futterin'
Of a bird
"As war sayin', Tom, used to listen to
the talk,
When the old gray headed preacher told us
how to toe the chalk.
If ever thar war righteous man I'll back
old Parson Hurd
Agin the fyest Gospel sharp thet ever slung
the VOID!
He want as eloquent as some, an didn't
wear sich clothes
AS them thet hung gold spectacle across a
pious nose;
But when it comes to GOspel-talk thct over
took the heart,
The old man bulged away ahead, an played
feadin part!
"When growed to be eighteen, or so, I
mind used ter sit
An hear the parson drawin' consolation
from the writ;
But somehow or another, no matter how
tried,
I couldn't keep these eyes o mine from wan
derin to the side
Whar all the country gals d sit in the best
O. Sunday clothes,
A wonderin' arter mectin's out, who'd ketch
the slDartest beaus
This heart O. mine d beat tattoo when I'd
git u lovin' look
From daisy with face half hid behind
her singin' book!
"An' when the benediction an Doxology
war played
We'd draw up in line outside the door, an
oh, how 'frail
I used ter feel, afore my turn, as each sue
cessiye beau
Marched out O. ranks up to his gal, an
crooked his arm, ye know!
But arter hookin' on myself, and startin'
dow, the lane
Toward her daddy's farm, my courage all
came back again,
An then we'd laugh, an chat, an sing, an
squeeze each others hand,
An say a thousan' things that none but
lovers understand!
II had the sweetest little gal that ever
slung kiss,
An the days spent sparkin' war all gilt
edged with bliss!
I'd a married that thar beauty, Tom, if
that 'tarnal cry Of gold
Hadn't like an ocean billow over all the
country rolled
| caught the fever, like the rest, an kissed
tie gal goodbye,
An left her standin' in the lane with sad
and fearful eye!
promised to go back, of course at no great
distant day,
But when man gets in these hills he's liza,
ble to stay.
1 hunted gold industrionsly, but couldn't
make stake,
An then | e'nigrated hyer, endeayorin' ter
Enough to take me home, but failed-an
then fur Uncle Sam
I started huntin' Injuns on the trail, an
r hyar am!
But some day, Tom, I may go back to take
a peep around
At the old familiar objects on my early
stampin' ground
"'Look up thet gal? not much, old pard
I'll bet thet country school
Is educatin' kids O. hers-whoa Chief! you
'tarnal fool! !"