1208 
She  RURAL  NEW-YORKER? 
September  10,  1916. 
Pa  got  his  prime  tomater  plants 
An’  set  ’em  out  right  early, 
An’  tickled  half  to  death  he  was 
To  see  ’em  green  as  grass. 
“The  children  they  got  tired” 
For  most  of  our  tomaters 
They  come  sorter  stunt  an’  gnurly. 
An’  Pa — he  likes  termaters 
Better’n  any  kind  of  sass. 
And  when  the  nights  grew  warmer 
An’  the  frost  had  quit  its  hazin’ 
Then  Pa,  he  set  his  plants  out 
Just  as  natural  as  you  please. 
An’  the  children — they  all  wanted 
For  to  try  termater  raisin’. 
So  Pa,  he  give  ’em  all  a  plant 
Just  so’s  they  wouldn’t  tease. 
We  had  a  little  pauper  living  on  the  farm  that 
Summer, 
Just  a  ragged  little  feller,  doing  chores  an’ 
runnin'  ’round. 
Not  much  bigger  than  a  corncob,  but  as  spry 
as  any  hummer. 
Pa  had  took  him  home  to  raise  him  so’s  they 
wouldn’t  have  him  bound. 
An’  that  little  pauper  feller  stood  around 
there  kinder  waitin’, 
An’  his  eyes  looked  mighty  wistful  as  he 
looked  that  plantin’  o’er. 
Pa  was  always  tender-hearted — sorter  fool¬ 
ish — always  hatin’ 
To  see  folks  havin’  trouble — but  there  wa’n’t 
but  one  plant  more. 
>  - 
“  Pa  walked  out  last  Sunday  evening  *9 
That  was  mighty  weak  an’  spindlin’ — but  the 
little  feller  tuck  it 
An’  he  perked  it  up  an’  planted  it  as  slick  an’ 
clean  as  wax, 
An’  he  hoed  it  an’  he  tended — carried  water 
in  a  bucket 
An’  he  rigged  him  up  a  cover  from  some 
pieces  of  old  sacks. 
Now  the  children  they  got  tired  an’  they  quit 
tomater  raisin’ 
An’  the  weeds  grew  up  and  smothered  all  the 
plants  away  from  view. 
But  the  little  pauper  feller  stuck  to  his’n  most 
amazin’ 
An’  it  just  beats  all  my  tellin’  how  them 
plants  stood  up  an’  grew. 
Pa  walked  out  last  Sunday  evening — just  to 
see  how  things  were  going 
An’  that  great  tomater  raisin’  made  him  sor¬ 
ter  stop  an’  think. 
For  he  shut  one  eye  a  minute  an’  he  looked 
so  mighty  knowin  ’ 
That  I  couldn’t  help  a  thinkin’  that  his  mind 
let  out  a  link. 
“For,”  sez  he,  “we  all  get  started  sorter  fair 
in  life’s  great  battle. 
But  tain’t  half  so  much  the  startin’  as  it  is 
the  runnin'  through.  . 
Some  that  start  out  mighty  blusterin’  with 
a  great  big  noise  and  rattle. 
Why  they  don’t  amount  to  nothin’,  when 
they  run  their  journey  through, 
“Take  the  poorest  chance  and  watch  it — sor¬ 
ter  foster  and  stay  by  it. 
Why,  it’s  got  to  come  to  something  if  you 
keep  it  clean  and  bright. 
Take  the  biggest  chance  a-goin’  and  neglect 
it  an’  half  try  it, 
It  will  dwindle  down  to  nothin’.”  An’  I  knovo 
that  Pa  is  right. 
“  We  all  got  started  sorter  fair  ” 
