Uncle Jotham's Boarder 



"He had an old bait-net of thin, rotten stuff 

 That a minner could bite his way through; 



But he never went fishin' at least, in the way 

 That fishermen gen'ally do; 



But he carried that bait-net wherever he went; 

 The handle was j'inted in two. 



"And the bottles and boxes that chap fetched along! 



Why, a doctor would never want more; 

 If they held pills and physic, he 'd got full enough 



To fit out a medicine-store. 

 And he 'd got heaps of pins, dreffle lengthy and slim. 



Allers droppin' about on the floor. 



"Well, true as I live, that old feller just spent 



His hull days in loafin' about 

 And pickin' up hoppers and roaches and flies 



Not to use for his bait to ketch trout, 

 But to kill and stick pins in and squint at and all. 



He was crazy 's a coot, th' ain't no doubt. 



"He 'd see a poor miller a-flyin' along, 



The commonest, every-day kind, 

 And he 'd waddle on arter it, fat as he was, 



And foller up softly behind, 

 Till he 'd flop that-air bait-net right over its head, 



And I 'd laugh till nigh out of my mind. 



"Why, he 'd lay on the ground for an hour at a stretch 



And scratch in the dirt like a hen ; 

 He 'd scrape all the bark off the bushes and trees, 



And turn the stones^over; and then 

 He 'd peek under logs, or he 'd pry into holes. 



I 'm glad there ain't no more sech men. 



"My wife see a box in his bedroom, one day, 



Jest swarmin' with live caterpillars; 

 He fed 'em on leaves off of all kinds of trees 



The ellums and birches and willers; 

 And he 'd got piles of boxes, chock-full to the top 



With crickets and bees and moth-millers. 



"I asked him, one time, what his business might be. 



Of course, I fust made some apology. 

 He tried to explain, but such awful big words! 



Sorto' forren, outlandish, and collegey. 

 'S near 's I can tell, 'stead of enterin' a trade, 

 He was tryin' to jest enter mology. 

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