Farm Ballads | Page 2

man--?Only we've lived together as long as we ever can.
So I have talked with Betsey, and Betsey has talked with me, And so we've agreed together that we can't never agree;?Not that we've catched each other in any terrible crime;?We've been a-gathering this for years, a little at a time.
There was a stock of temper we both had for a start,?Although we never suspected 'twould take us two apart;?I had my various failings, bred in the flesh and bone;?And Betsey, like all good women, had a temper of her own.
The first thing I remember whereon we disagreed?Was something concerning heaven--a difference in our creed; We arg'ed the thing at breakfast, we arg'ed the thing at tea, And the more we arg'ed the question the more we didn't agree.
And the next that I remember was when we lost a cow;?She had kicked the bucket for certain, the question was only--How? I held my own opinion, and Betsey another had;?And when we were done a-talkin', we both of us was mad.
And the next that I remember, it started in a joke;?But full for a week it lasted, and neither of us spoke.?And the next was when I scolded because she broke a bowl;?And she said I was mean and stingy, and hadn't any soul.
And so that bowl kept pourin' dissensions in our cup;?And so that blamed cow-critter was always a-comin' up;?And so that heaven we arg'ed no nearer to us got,?But it gave us a taste of somethin' a thousand times as hot.
And so the thing kept workin', and all the self-same way;?Always somethin' to arg'e, and somethin' sharp to say;?And down on us came the neighbors, a couple dozen strong,?And lent their kindest sarvice for to help the thing along.
And there has been days together--and many a weary week--?We was both of us cross and spunky, and both too proud to speak; And I have been thinkin' and thinkin', the whole of the winter and fall, If I can't live kind with a woman, why, then, I won't at all.
And so I have talked with Betsey, and Betsey has talked with me, And we have agreed together that we can't never agree;?And what is hers shall be hers, and what is mine shall be mine; And I'll put it in the agreement, and take it to her to sign.
Write on the paper, lawyer--the very first paragraph--?Of all the farm and live-stock that she shall have her half; For she has helped to earn it, through many a weary day,?And it's nothing more than justice that Betsey has her pay.
Give her the house and homestead--a man can thrive and roam; But women are skeery critters, unless they have a home;?And I have always determined, and never failed to say,?That Betsey never should want a home if I was taken away.
There is a little hard money that's drawin' tol'rable pay:?A couple of hundred dollars laid by for a rainy day;?Safe in the hands of good men, and easy to get at;?Put in another clause there, and give her half of that.
Yes, I see you smile, Sir, at my givin' her so much;?Yes, divorce is cheap, Sir, but I take no stock in such!?True and fair I married her, when she was blithe and young; And Betsey was al'ays good to me, exceptin' with her tongue.
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Once, when I was young as you, and not so smart, perhaps,?For me she mittened a lawyer, and several other chaps;?And all of them was flustered, and fairly taken down,?And I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town.
Once when I had a fever--I won't forget it soon--?I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon;?Never an hour went by me when she was out of sight--?She nursed me true and tender, and stuck to me day and night.
And if ever a house was tidy, and ever a kitchen clean,?Her house and kitchen was tidy as any I ever seen;?And I don't complain of Betsey, or any of her acts,?Exceptin' when we've quarreled, and told each other facts.
So draw up the paper, lawyer, and I'll go home to-night,?And read the agreement to her, and see if it's all right;?And then, in the mornin', I'll sell to a tradin' man I know, And kiss the child that was left to us, and out in the world I'll go.
And one thing put in the paper, that first to me didn't occur: That when I am dead at last she'll bring me back to her;?And lay me under the maples I planted years ago,?When she and I was happy before we quarreled so.
And when she dies I wish that she would be laid by me,?And, lyin' together in silence, perhaps we will agree;?And, if ever we meet in heaven, I wouldn't