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The Wooer
I NEARLY fell fair in my tracks.
I'm trudgin' homeward with my axe
When I come on her suddenly.
"I wonder if I'm lost?" says she.
"It's risky on such roads as this."
I lifts my hat an' says, "Yes, miss."
I knew 'twas rude for me to stare.
But, oh, that sunlight in her hair!
"I wonder if I'm lost?" says she,
An' gives a smile that staggers me.
"An' yet, it wouldn't matter much
Supposing that I was, with such
A glorious green world about.
With bits of blue sky peepin' out.
Do you think there will be a fog?"
"No, miss," says I, an' pats my dog.
"Oh, what a dear old dog!" says she.
"Most dogs are pretty fond of me."
She calls him to her, an' he goes.
(He didn't find it hard, I s'pose;
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