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Riley Songs of Home by James Whitcomb Riley
page 56 of 86 (65%)
As my uncle ust to say,--
And ef folks don't work as they pray, i jings!
W'y, they ain't no use to pray!
Ef you want somepin', and jes dead-set
A-pleadin' fer it with both eyes wet,
And _tears_ won't bring it, w'y, you try _sweat_,
As my uncle ust to say.

They's some don't know their A, B, C's,
As my uncle ust to say,
And yit don't waste no candle-grease,
Ner whistle their lives away!
But ef they can't write no book, ner rhyme
No singin' song fer to last all time,
They can blaze the way fer the march sublime,
As my uncle ust to say.

[Illustration]

Whoever's Foreman of all things here,
As my uncle ust to say,
He knows each job 'at we're best fit fer,
And our round-up, night and day:
And a-sizin' _His_ work, east and west,
And north and south, and worst and best.
I ain't got nothin' to suggest,
As my uncle ust to say.

[Illustration]

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