72 A RBOR DA V MANUA L. 



"WHEN THE GREEN GITS BACK IN THE TREES." 



IN the spring when the green gits back in the trees, 

 And the sun comes out and stays, 



And your boots pull on with a good tight squeeze, 

 And you think of your barefoot days; 



When you ort to work and you want to not, 

 And you and yer wife agrees 



It's time to spade up the garden lot- 

 When the green gits back on the trees 

 Well, work is the least of my idees 

 When the green, you know, gits back in the trees. 



When the green gits back in the trees, and bees 

 Is a-buzzin' aroun' agin, 



In that kind of a lazy "go-as-you please " 

 Old gait they hum roun' in ; 



When the ground's all bald where the hayrick stood, 

 And the crick's riz, and the breeze 



Coaxes the bloom in the old dogwood, 



And the green gits back in the trees 

 I like, as I say, in sich scenes as these, 

 The time when the green gits back in the trees. 



When the whole tail-feathers o' winter-time 



Is all pulled out and gone, 

 And the sap it thaws and begins to climb, 



And the sweat it starts out on 

 A feller's forrerd, a-gittin' down 



At the old spring on his knees 

 I kind o' like, jes' a-loaferin' roun' 



When the green gits back in the trees 



Jes' a-potterin' roun' as I durn please 



When the green, you know, gits back in the trees. 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILF.V. 



How dreary would the garden be, 



With all its flowery trees, 

 Suppose there were no butterflies, 



And suppose there were no bees. 



ALICE CARRY 



