The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1912-07-30
Ayr'S Harvest Home Picnic,
BY REV. r. u. pETERMAN


BYREy. r. T.. PETERMAN
Would you like to hear the story
OF the Royal Harvest Feast?
Would you listen II I'd tell you?
Would you care fort in the least?
Would it make your heart beat faster?
Would 1t throw dull care away,
II the story Of the picnic
In your ears were told to-day?
Would you ask me who has told me
OF this great and happy day
When the farmer and his family
Having housed away the hay.
Having put the wheat in safety,
Having finished with the harvest.
Then decided for play
To be gay, just for day?
| would tell you | would say;
'Tis the story of the Oak Tree,
The red squirrel, and the Jay,
AS they tell IL to the children
OF the woodland here to day.
'Tis the story of the farm life
In the shady grove; day
Spent 10 laughing, singing, talking,
In the happiest sort OF way.
Tbs the story of the children
Who are here TO work and play
In this world OF Joy and sadness,
Sing and dance and love and play
To make life a little. sweeter
To wipe away the tear
To put hope instead OF fear
Into hearts that knoy the bitter
Pangs of sorrow and delay
Caused by raging money madness.
Till the youthful locks are gray
'Tis the story OF the children.
Would you like to know still further
OF whom it is we sing this lay?
Iwould tell you would say;
'Tis the land OF Tuscaroas,
The Alleghenies and the Fultons
Where many families, tribes and ma
tions
Come together for the day,
From Northland, Southland West
land, Eastland,
BY ones and twos and scores and hun
dreds
With baskets filed for self and others
Dressed in regular picnic array.
'Tis in the land of Kendalls and John
stons,
Pattersons, Nelson's, Mellotts and
Coopers,
Comerers and OTIS and others galore,
To mention them all would be to bore
You perhaps today when the Picnic is
DER.
A thing which surely would wish not
to do
Since this story is intended for me
and for you.
From the hills and the valleys
They came driving ana walking,
From the Cabin and the mansion
From the lot and the farm,
AS true sisters and brothers
OF just one great family,
To think of life's sunshine
And do none any harm.
They have come from the land
OF the clip-a-clip-a-clip
OF the mower laying the grass upon
the ground;
And from the gather, gather, gather,
OF the One-Horse-Rake,
Which today doesn't give fourth and
sound.
From the scatter, scatter, scatter,
Oi the Big-Horse Tedder,
And from the land of the groaning
Hay-fork
Where the one holds the lines
And the other carries water
Till the time for the beans and pork
From the land of the binder
With his brer-rer- -rer- -rer-rer,
AS he binds the golden grain into
sleeves:
From the land of the whir-rer- -rer-
rer-machine
Where the chuck a-chuck-a chuck
OF the engine pulls with pluck
To make the grain stalks soft and
clean.
Picnic days like unto these
Hasten back sweet memories
OF the good old days when our grand
fathers used to live;
Who among us living here,
Would truly like to say "Oh, dear,
Oh, let me go back to the good old
days and hve?"
So comrades, friends, and all,
Let us raise u mighty call
For Thanksgiving that we're living
now to day; g
And that the past has gone
And forever it is gone
With its hardships and its sores to
yesterday.
Ye Smoke Shop News
This week and then some