Collection of Kansas Poetry

Miss Hattie Horner


    Go into town er to the store, 
    It's all the same, I hyur the roar 
The crick is makin' as it reshes past 
    The bend; I know its sayin' somepin' more 
'N folks believe, an' more'n most folks dast, 
    'Less they believe 'at spirits crosses o'er 
An' talks 'ith us; the housework do n't git on__
    Keeps gittin' tangleder 'n 't was before, 
    Dist like my head 'at's tangled to the core, 
Sence Idy's gone. 

EVERY thing a-freezin' up, 'long about December; 
Willer Crick amongst the rest, 'f I do n't disremember, 
Froze up tighter'n a brick, 'ceptin' where Bill Oldum 
Throwed a whoppin' rock er stick, 't' see if it 'ud hold him;' 
Slick ez glass an' green an' thick, temptin' an' a-teasin'; 
Hear it poppin' up the crick while it's still a-freezin'; 
Hear the clinkin' of the skates, comin' thro' the timber__
Nosey Jim an' Shorty Bates'll soon be gittin' limber. 
I kin say now I've begun, "'f I don't disremember, 
Willer Crick's the place fer fun, 'long about December." 
Build a big ol' driftwood fire, sizzlin' an' a-smokin', 
Fer the girls to stand around, shiv'rin' an' a-chokin', 
Till their fellers prances in, with some quirl erruther, 
Sayin': "Shan't we try agin; go a little futher,"   
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