|My old horse is the biggest fool
Running loose on God's footstool.
Neighbors say so too, when they
See him browsing 'long the way.
Grass all round him everywhere,
He just nibbles here and there;
Always moving on and on
Like some fool automaton.
Nothing left but skin and bones;
Looks as if he lived on stones.
Might as well look sleek and neat
If he'd just stand still and eat.
Well, perhaps he ain't to blame,
Since his owner does the same.
Forty years I've moved around;
Never liked no place I found.
I could stay a year or so;
Then I'd have to pack and go.
Never was no hand to shirk,
If I got a job of work.
Saved my money, too, but then
When I moved it went again.
So I reckon I have spent
Thousands if I have a cent,
Moving___moving here and there,
Not contented anywhere.
Now I'm almost sixty-three,
Just as poor as I can be.
Never owned a foot of ground,
Never will until I'm found
Resting in my little lot,
With a slab to mark the spot.
'Fraid I'll find it hard to lay
Till the Resurrection day
In the same place under ground,
Wish they'd let me move around;
Habits' got so strong with me,
'Spect its always goin' to be.
So betwixt me and my horse,
I'm the biggest fool of course.
Both of us is old and set,
Can't expect we'll ever get
Out of this unsettled state
Long as we can navigate.
Cluck, go-lang, Old Rough and Tough!
We've been round here long enough.
__Harry Edward Mills.
Harry Edward Mills
(Fort Scott: Sunflower Press. 1901)