Fairs of the Pioneers 193 



Mother's brought preserves and things, they stand upon 



a shelf, 

 There's a big red ticket on 'em, and our M.P. hisself 

 Took a taste, an' then another, then he broke into a smile, 

 Then he said, "Why, Mrs, Jones, you've got 'em beaten 

 by a mile." 



In the Art hall where the ladies go to hang their fancy- 

 work. 



Sister's "showin' " brings folks to a standstill with a 

 jerk ; 



A log-cabin quilt, a rag-mat an' some wearin' things 

 with frillin', 



An' the folks around say sister's work is — well, jest 

 simply killin'. 



Down among the pens an' stables where they show the 



cows an' sheep. 

 Dad's got a brindle heifer that's the sleekest o' the 



heap, 

 An' he's winner of a "special" prize for his colt shown 



on the line, 

 An' that rooster ye hear crowin' in the poultry-house 



is mine. 



You may shout about Toronto and the big Western 



Fair, 

 With their fountains and big buildin's and men flyin' 



in the air, 

 But I'll bet my bantam rooster, 'gainst a quarter, ii 



you dare. 

 That there's not one-two-three in it, with our old county 



fair. 



