Ballads for little folk . WAITING FOR SOMETHING TO TURN UP. And why do you throw down your hoe by the way As if that furrow were done ?It was the good farmer, Bartholomew Grey, That spoke on this wise to his son. Now Barty, the younger, was not very bad, But he didnt take kindly to work,And the father had oftentimes said of the ladThat the thing he did best was to shirk ! It was early in May, and a beautiful morn — The rosebuds tipt softly with red —The pea putting on her white bloom, and the corn Being just gotten up out of bed. And after the first little break of the day Had broadened itself
Ballads for little folk . WAITING FOR SOMETHING TO TURN UP. And why do you throw down your hoe by the way As if that furrow were done ?It was the good farmer, Bartholomew Grey, That spoke on this wise to his son. Now Barty, the younger, was not very bad, But he didnt take kindly to work,And the father had oftentimes said of the ladThat the thing he did best was to shirk ! It was early in May, and a beautiful morn — The rosebuds tipt softly with red —The pea putting on her white bloom, and the corn Being just gotten up out of bed. And after the first little break of the day Had broadened itself on the blue,The provident farmer, Bartholomew Grey, Had driven a-field through the dew. His brown mare, Fair Fanny, in collar and harnessWent before him, so sturdy and stout, And ere the suns fire yet had kindled to flames,They had furrowed the field twice about. 30 Waiting for Something to turn up. And still as they came to the southerly slopeHe reined in Fair Fanny, with Whoa ! And gazed toward the homestead, and g
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, booksubjectchildre, bookyear1874
