To tho T.Ian Who Hasn't Sent a Club A Personal Loiter qnjpasoio.
1E S? R? 9? 973)
A Farm and Home Weekly for the Carolinas, Virginia, Tennessee and Georgia.
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PROGRESSIVE PARMER-VOL. XXI NO. 37.
THE COTTON PLANT VOL. XXIII. NO. 36.
RALEIGH, N. C, OCTOBER 25, 1906.
Weekly: $1 a Year.
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Courtesy of Farmer's Voice, Chicago.
"When the Frost is on the PtinKin and tHe Fodder's in the SKock."
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,
And you hear the "kyouck" and gobble of the struttin' turkey, cock,
And .the clackin' of the guineys, and the ciuckin' of the hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
Oh, it's then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at,Jiis best,
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the 'stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in. the shock.
They's something kind o' harty-Kke about the atmosfere
Wrhen the heat of summer's over, and the coo fin' fall is here
of course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin' birds and buzzin' of the bees;
But the air's as appetizin'; and the landscape t'hrough the haze
Of a crisp and sunny mornin' of the frosty autumn days
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin'-to mock
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
.The husky, rusty tussle of the tassels of the corn,
. And the raspin' of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn',
The stubble in the furrers-j kind o' lonesome-like and still
A-preachin' sermons to us of the barns they growed to fill";
The strawstack in . the-medder, and tht reaper in the shed;
The horses in their stalls below the clover overhead!
Oh, it sets my heart a-clickin' like the tickin of a clock, ,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
;Then your apples all is gathered, and the ones a fellow keeps .
Is poured around the cellar floor in red and yellow heaps;
And your cider-makin's over and your wimmern folks is through
With their mince and apple butter, and their souse and sausage, too:
I don't know how to tell it but if such a thing could.be
As the angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me
I'd want to 'commodate 'em all the whole indurin' flock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
James Whitcomb Riley.
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