72 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
WHEN THE GREEN GITS BACK IN THE TREES.” 
I N 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 day's; 
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, y'ou 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 Riley. 
How dreary would the garden be. 
With all its flowery trees, 
Suppose there were no butterflies, 
And suppose there were no bees. 
Alice Carey. 
