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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416644" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>How John Quit The Farm</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nobody on the old farm here but Mother, me and John,<br>Except, of course, the extry he'p when harvest-time come on--<br>And then, I want to say to you, we _needed_ he'p about,<br>As you'd admit, ef you'd a-seen the way the crops turned out!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A better quarter-section, ner a richer soil warn't found<br>Than this-here old-home place o' ourn fer fifty miles around!--<br>The house was small--but plenty-big we found it from the day<br>That John--our only livin' son--packed up and went way.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You see, we tuck sich pride in John--his mother more 'n me--<br>That's natchurul; but _both_ of us was proud as proud could be;<br>Fer the boy, from a little chap, was most oncommon bright,<br>And seemed in work as well as play to take the same delight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He allus went a-whistlin' round the place, as glad at heart<br>As robins up at five o'clock to git an airly start;<br>And many a time 'fore daylight Mother's waked me up to say--<br>'Jest listen, David!--listen!--Johnny's beat the birds to-day!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">High-sperited from boyhood, with a most inquirin' turn,--<br>He wanted to learn ever'thing on earth they was to learn:<br>He'd ast more plaguey questions in a mortal-minute here<br>Than his grandpap in Paradise could answer in a year!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And read! w'y, his own mother learnt him how to read and spell;<br>And 'The Childern of the Abbey'--w'y, he knowed that book as well<br>At fifteen as his parents!--and 'The Pilgrim's Progress,' too--<br>Jest knuckled down, the shaver did, and read 'em through and through!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At eighteen, Mother 'lowed the boy must have a better chance--<br>That we ort to educate him, under any circumstance;<br>And John he j'ined his mother, and they ding-donged and kep' on,<br>Tel I sent him off to school in town, half glad that he was gone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But--I missed him--w'y of course I did!--The Fall and Winter through<br>I never built the kitchen-fire, er split a stick in two,<br>Er fed the stock, er butchered, er swung up a gambrel-pin,<br>But what I thought o' John, and wished that he was home agin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He'd come, sometimes--on Sund'ys most--and stay the Sund'y out;<br>And on Thanksgivin'-Day he 'peared to like to be about:<br>But a change was workin' on him--he was stiller than before,<br>And did n't joke, ner laugh, ner sing and whistle any more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And his talk was all so proper; and I noticed, with a sigh,<br>He was tryin' to raise side-whiskers, and had on a striped tie,<br>And a standin'-collar, ironed up as stiff and slick as bone;<br>And a breast-pin, and a watch and chain and plug-hat of his own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But when Spring-weather opened out, and John was to come home<br>And he'p me through the season, I was glad to see him come;<br>But my happiness, that evening, with the settin' sun went down,<br>When he bragged of 'a position' that was offered him in town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But,' says I, 'you'll not accept it?' 'W'y, of course<br>I will,' says he.--<br>'This drudgin' on a farm,' he says, 'is not the life fer me;<br>I've set my stakes up higher,' he continued, light and gay,<br>'And town's the place fer me, and I'm a-goin' right away!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And go he did!--his mother clingin' to him at the gate,<br>A-pleadin' and a-cryin'; but it hadn't any weight.<br>I was tranquiller, and told her 'twarn't no use to worry so,<br>And onclasped her arms from round his neck round mine--and let him go!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I felt a little bitter feelin' foolin' round about<br>The aidges of my conscience; but I didn't let it out;--<br>I simply retch out, trimbly-like, and tuck the boy's hand,<br>And though I did n't say a word, I knowed he'd understand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And--well!--sence then the old home here was mighty lonesome, shore!<br>With me a-workin' in the field, and Mother at the door,<br>Her face ferever to'rds the town, and fadin' more and more---<br>Her only son nine miles away, a-clerkin' in a store!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The weeks and months dragged by us; and sometimes the boy would write<br>A letter to his mother, savin' that his work was light,<br>And not to feel oneasy about his health a bit--<br>Though his business was confinin', he was gittin' used to it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And sometimes he would write and ast how _I_ was gittin' on,<br>And ef I had to pay out much fer he'p sence he was gone;<br>And how the hogs was doin', and the balance of the stock,<br>And talk on fer a page er two jest like he used to talk.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he wrote, along 'fore harvest, that he guessed he would git home,<br>Fer business would, of course be dull in town.--But _didn't_ come:--<br>We got a postal later, sayin' when they had no trade<br>They filled the time 'invoicin' goods,' and that was why he staid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And then he quit a-writin' altogether: Not a word--<br>Exceptin' what the neighbors brung who'd been to town and heard<br>What store John was clerkin' in, and went round to inquire<br>If they could buy their goods there less and sell their produce higher.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And so the Summer faded out, and Autumn wore away,<br>And a keener Winter never fetched around Thanksgivin'-Day!<br>The night before that day of thanks I'll never quite fergit,<br>The wind a-howlin' round the house--it makes me creepy yit!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And there set me and Mother--me a-twistin' at the prongs<br>Of a green scrub-ellum forestick with a vicious pair of tongs,<br>And Mother sayin', '_David! David!_' in a' undertone,<br>As though she thought that I was thinkin' bad-words unbeknown.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I've dressed the turkey, David, fer to-morrow,' Mother said,<br>A-tryin' to wedge some pleasant subject in my stubborn head,--<br>'And the mince-meat I'm a-mixin' is perfection mighty nigh;<br>And the pound-cake is delicious-rich--' 'Who'll eat 'em?' I-says-I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The cramberries is drippin-sweet,' says Mother, runnin' on,<br>P'tendin' not to hear me;--'and somehow I thought of John<br>All the time they was a-jellin'--fer you know they allus was<br>His favour--he likes 'em so!' Says I, 'Well, s'pose he does?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oh, nothin' much!' says Mother, with a quiet sort o' smile--<br>'This gentleman behind my cheer may tell you after while!'<br>And as I turned and looked around, some one riz up and leant<br>And put his arms round Mother's neck, and laughed in low content.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'It's _me_,' he says--'your fool-boy John, come back to shake your hand;<br>Set down with you, and talk with you, and make you understand<br>How dearer yit than all the world is this old home that we<br>Will spend Thanksgivin' in fer life--jest Mother, you and me!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nobody on the old farm here but Mother, me and John,<br>Except of course the extry he'p, when harvest-time comes on;<br>And then, I want to say to you, we _need_ sich he'p about,<br>As you'd admit, ef you could see the way the crops turns out!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Whitcomb+Riley">James Whitcomb Riley</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416644" data-title="How John Quit The Farm de James Whitcomb Riley" data-description="Nobody on the old farm here but Mother, me and John,
Except, of course, the extry he'p when harvest-time come on--
And then, I want to say to you, we _needed_ he'p about,
As you'd admit, ef you'd a-seen the way the crops turned out!

A better quar..."></div>
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