Pieces People Ask For/Somehow or Other

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The good wife bustled about the house,
Her face still bright with a pleasant smile,
As broken snatches of happy song
Strengthened her heart and hand the while.
The good man sat in the chimney-nook,
His little clay pipe within his lips,
And all he'd made, and all he'd lost,
Ready and clear on his finger-tips.

"Good wife, I've just been thinking a bit:
Nothing has done very well this year;

Money is bound to be hard to get;
Every thing's bound to be very dear;
How the cattle are going to be fed,
How we're to keep the boys at school,
Is kind of a debit and credit sum
I can't make balance by any rule."

She turned her round from the baking bread,
And she faced him with a cheerful laugh;
"Why, husband, dear, one would think
That the good rich wheat was only chaff.
And what if the wheat was only chaff,
As long as we both are well and strong?
I'm not a woman to worry a bit,—
Somehow or other we get along.

Into some lives some rain must fall,
Over all lands the storm must beat;
But when the rain and storm are o'er,
The after sunshine is twice as sweet.
Through every strait we have found a road,
In every grief we've found a song;
We've had to bear, and had to wait,—
But somehow or other we get along.

For thirty years we have loved each other,
Stood by each other whatever befell;
Six boys have called us father and mother,
And all of them living and doing well.
We owe no man a penny, my dear,
We're both of us loving, well, and strong:
Good man, I wish you would smoke again,
And think how well we've got along."

He filled his pipe with a pleasant laugh;
He kissed his wife with a tender pride;
He said, "I'll do as you tell me, love;
I'll just count up on the other side."
She left him then with his better thought,
And lifted her work with a low, sweet song,—
A song that followed me many a year:
"Somehow or other we get along."