The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1900-02-17
THE STOCK IN THE T1E-UP.

I'm workin' this week In the woodlot hearty
old job you can bet;
finish my chores with a lantern, and marin has
the table all set
By the time get in with the milkin', and after
l wash at the sink,
And marin sets saucer o. strainin's for the cat
and the kittens to drink,
Your uncle is ready for supper with an appetite
whet to an edge
That'll cut like bush -scythe in swalegrass and
couldn't be dulled on ledge.
And marin she slaps open the oven and pulls out
OF the rippin'est cream-t tarter biskit man ever
pushed at his chin.
We pile some more wood on the fire and open
the damper full blare,
And pull up and pitch into supper-and comfort
and taste good-wal, there
And the wind SwoOshes over the chimbly and
scrapes at the shingles cross grain,
But good double winders and bankin' are mighty
good friends here in Maine.
look crost the table to mother and marin she
looks over at me
And passes another hot biskit It, and says, Wont
And while am stirrin' the sugar relish the
sound of the storm
For, thank the good Lord, we are cozy and the
stock In the tie-up is warm.
tell ,ye. the song o. the fire and the chirruping
The roar O. the wind in the chimbly, they sound
dretful cheerful to me,
But they'd harrer me, plague me and fret me
unless as set here knew
That the critters are munchin' their fodder and
bedded and comftable. too.
These biskits are light as feather, but, boy,
they'd be heavier'n lead
If thought that my hosses was shiv'rin', if
-, thought that my cattle warnt fed.
There's men in the neighborhoOd round me
who pray som'w'at louder than me,
They wear better clothes, sir, on Sunday-chip
in for the heather Chinee,
But the cracks in the sides o. their tie-ups are
wide as the door o. their pew,
And the winter comes in there a-hOwlin' with
the sleet and the snow peltin' through.
Step in there, sir. ary mornin' and look at
their critters! 'Twould seem
AS if they was bilers or engines, and all O. them
chOck full o. steam.
I've got an fashioned religion that calkalates
Sundays for rest,
But if there warn't time, sir, on week days to
batten tie-up I'm blest
I'd use up Sunday or such-like and let the
burned heathen folks go
While fastened some boards on the Intel to
keep out the frost and the snow.
I'd stand all the frowns of the parson before I'd
The dumb. holler eyes O. the critters hooked up
in frosty old place.,
And fore paid all my attention to bOOStin some
poor heather wrecks,
I'd tend to my shiverin' cattle tied helplessly
there by their necks.
And I'll bet ye that in the hereafter the men
who have staid on their knees
And let some poor, fuzzy old cattle stand out in
,,,., tie-up and freeze,
Will find that the heat o. the Hot Place is keyed
to an extra degree
For the man who forgot to consider that critters
have feelin's same's we.
1 dasn't go thinkin' o. tie-ups where winter goes
whistlin' through,
Where cattle are bumped at their stanchions
with scarcely the gumption to moo.
But I'm glad for the sake o. Hereafter that mine
amt the sin and the guilt,
And tell you, relish my feelins when pull
up the big patchwork quilt.
And l laugh at the pelt o. the snowfiakes. and
grin at the slat o. the storm,
And thank the good Lord can sleep now the
stock in the tie-up is warm.
-LeWiSton (Ae) Journal.