eanin' poplar tree;
Joe could by the glimmerin' moon
See the leanin' poplar leant:
Jerked his coat and up he went;
Ketched the possum, let him go,
Slipped his holts and hollered, "Oh!"
An' down into eternity
Limp and warm, fell poor old _Joe_!
Don't remember _One-Armed Joe_?
Feller I'll bet the angels know!

WES PERKINS

I've read of Bob Burdett,
And Billin's, Twain and Bret
And the whole endurin' set
Of funny men, I guess;
But I never yit have found,
No matter how renowned,
A wit that's ever downed
Our Perkins, boys call Wes.

You sildom ketch him lyin';
Not much for speechifyin';
And he 'pears just half-way tryin'
When he does git off his wit:
But dogged if th'aint blame'd few
'Ll probe you through and through,
As Wes is sure to do,
For he allus makes a hit.

He's a humble sort of feller
With an eye as soft and meller
As an apple golden yeller
In the mild September sun:
Kinder quare and unconcerned,
Like he didn't kere a derned,
But many a feller's learned
That Wes is in for fun.

Cheap wits don't make no noise
'Bout Wes, 'cause he destroys
Their wisdom, which annoys
The humorist, more or less.
Unless your jokes 'll fit
You'd best reserve your wit,
And entirely omit,
'Fore Perkins, boys call Wes.

THE FIRST MESS OF GREENS

You may boast of landscapes golden
With the harvest's ripenin' grain,
Or of Autumn pensive foldin,
All her flowers to sleep again;
But to me the woods a-ringin'
With the notes of happy birds
When the April buds is springin'
Is a song too sweet for words:
And the beautifullest, since you ask it,
In art or nature's scenes,
Is Kate with knife and basket,
A-getherin' of greens.

It pears to lift the veil of years
And opens up to view,
A scene that brings me soothin' tears
As sweet as tender dew
To grass that suns have withered dry:
I can see her jist as plain,
Though Father Time has dimmed my eye,
And ricollect the pain,
I suffered while she paused a-thinkin'
What such an answer means;
And the "Stay and help us, John," a-winkin'
"Eat our first mess of greens."

I've heard my neighbor Johnson say
His choice was chicken pie;
And Perkins lows