Mountain Home Republican. [volume] (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1915-1946, 1923-10-26

his pOL-nOunQ or his 0agS.
: Nor his fair spouse, or anything,
Unless he had the rags"
. Now Porter was pleasant man,
Likewise he was quite nice,
And he had overalls and plug
For all who had the price.
But when he got his sack of stuff" =
Oh, he had many bones
George Hill bought out the auto
crat
Likewise his road and stones.
J All, many times the flowers hav
blOomed
Above that old mans face;
And summer suns put golden kiss
Upon that lonely place.
On Syrup Creek the Phelpses dwell
Mid most enchanting scenes;
Sometimes they raised the dickens
Sometimes a crop of beans.
One pair of shoes was all we had
Each year to shield our toes,
From smashing on the cruel rocks
Likewise from winters SHOWS.
My mother took the overalls
The men had cast away;
| And made them over for us kids,
In patterns strange and gay.
What mattered it If seams went
round,
And openings failed to meet;
If there were colOrs various;
Or patches on the seat.
We cared not what the world might
think,
For we were wild and free,
We hooked the trout, we fried the
buck,
And ate the chokecherry.
What cared we what the world
might think,
Or what the world might say;
If wars were set or kings dethroned.
Or nations passed away.
l wore no hat upon my head
From spring unto the fall;
And often when l needed it
Twas never to be found at all.
We were the biggest bunch of rubes
Within traditions scope;
Wild as our mustang ponies, or
A band of antelope.
A half mile below us lived
Jess Campbell-also Joe,
With old man Hays-but HOW they
lived,
Alas, l do not know.
But much it grieves my honest soul
This simple truth to tell
How often have crept within
That cabin with it's smell.
To fill my neck with what 1 found
Oh, think me not a scamp,
For it was sweet as that strange
bread
Which filled the Hebrew camp.
Old Jessie Hays went out alone,
Across the Great Divide;
But no one knows the place or time, |
Or where or how he died.
The Campbell boys have passed their
checks
And staggered from the game;
A few more frosts upon our hair
And we shall do the same.
A little farther down there was
Another modest place,
Where Warren Lockman took his /
bride,
When young and fair of face.
The old stone house is standing yet
Perhaps within a rod
And washed his hands in blood.
But gloom is on the lonely spot,
And weeds are by the walls;
Where through the haunted after
gloom
The mournful nightbird calls.
n early days the immigrants
Came down across the plain,
md camped at Marion Daniels
ranch,
Within the little lane
Through which the road out and
on,
To Fortunes hazard cline;
food luck, bad luck-and everything
That goes with tears and time.
low Marion was man of heart,
And those who could not pay,
IL freely plucked his fruited trees,
And took his grain and hay.
or ne'er did hunger pass his door
without receiving bread;
nd those who came in rags and cold
Were clothed and warmed and fed.
eace to his ashes, peace and rest,
May there a myrtle spring;
nd ever something beautiful,
With a sweet bird to sing.
N Dry Creek Jaffie Thurman lived,
A horse king in his day;
Text Frank and Charlie Bounds
pair
OF stoekmen blithe and gay.
hen Dedo Creek, and after that
ODE Corder with his store,
yho did for all much bacon cut,
Likewise much bugjuice pour.