Songs of the Fields 



istics. In personal appearance, you are told that 

 he has a rusty back, a habit of ducking his head, 

 a full throat, the palpitant motion of which is 

 touched upon, as are his warts, and his "bloat" 

 eyes; while in the question, "S'pose I want to 'flict 

 you any more 'an what you air?" is encompassed 

 a volume on his social status. 



I wish that every person in the world were com- 

 pelled to read this poem in order to attain a ra- 

 tional attitude concerning so valuable a friend and 

 neighbor as the hop-toad, in the first place; and in 

 the second, to come to a realization of the things 

 that lie at the bottom of the bubbling fountain in 

 the heart of a poet. I have had undisputed pos- 

 session of all the hop-toads in my vicinity since 

 my birth; so the feeling that I had been patted 

 on the head and personally commended came to 

 me on first reading this exquisite song. 



Every grain field of earth has its choral union, 

 but it long has been a study of mine to decide which 

 musicians have the loveliest environment. I was My Oat- 

 strongly attracted with wheat; corn, rye, buck- Field 

 wheat, all had weighty consideration, and clover 

 almost tipped the scales of my judgment in its 

 favor, but after years of deliberation the choice 

 has fallen on oats. This decision rests solely on 

 artistic merit. The market value of a subject that 

 furnishes me a picture or sings me a song is of 

 no consideration. Is it beautiful? Does it touch 

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