UP AND DOWN OLD BRANDYWINE
Up and down old Brandywine,In the days ’at’s past and gone—With a dad-burn hook-and-lineAnd a saplin’-pole—i swawn!I’ve had more fun, to the squareInch, than everanywhere!Heaven to come can’t discountmine,Up and down old Brandywine!Hain’t no sense inwishin’—yitWisht to goodness Icouldjes“Gee” the blame’ world round and gitBack to that old happiness!—Kindo’ drive back in the shade“The old Covered Bridge” there laid’Crosst the crick, and sorto’ soakMy soul over, hub and spoke!Honest, now!—it hain’t nodream’At I’m wantin’,—butthe fac’sAs they wuz; the same old stream,And the same old times, i jacks!—Gimme back my bare feet—andStonebruise too!—And scratched and tanned!—And let hottest dog-days shineUp and down old Brandywine!In and on betwixt the trees’Long the banks, pour down yer noon,Kindo’ curdled with the breezeAnd the yallerhammer’s tune;And the smokin’, chokin’ dustO’ the turnpike at its wusst—Saturd’ys, say, when it seemsRoad’s jes jammed with country teams!Whilse the old town, fur away’Crosst the hazy pastur’-land,Dozed-like in the heat o’ dayPeaceful’ as a hired hand.Jolt the gravel th’ough the floorO’ the ole bridge!—grind and roarWith yer blame’ percession-line—Up and down old Brandywine!Souse me and my new straw hatOff the foot-log!—whatIcare?—Fist shoved in the crown o’ that—Like the old Clown ust to wear.—Wouldn’t swop it fer a’ oldGin-u-wine raal crown o’ gold!—Keep yerKingef you’ll gim meJes the boy I ust to be!Spill my fishin’-worms! er stealMy best “goggle-eye!”—but youCan’t lay hands on joys I feelNibblin’ like they ust to do!So, in memory, to-daySame old ripple lips awayAt my “cork” and saggin’ line,Up and down old Brandywine!There the logs is, round the hill,Where “Old Irvin” ust to liftOut sunfish from daylight tillDewfall—’fore he’d leave “The Drift”And giveusa chance—and thenKindo’ fish back home again,Ketchin’ ’em jes left and rightWherewehadn’t got “a bite”!Er, ’way windin’ out and in,—Old path th’ough the iurnweedsAnd dog-fennel to yer chin—Then come suddent, th’ough the reedsAnd cattails, smack into whereThem-air woods-hogs ust to scareUs clean ’crosst the County-line,Up and down old Brandywine!But the dim roar o’ the damIt ’ud coax us furder stillTo’rds the old race, slow and ca’m,Slidin’ on to Huston’s mill—Where, I ’spect, “the Freeport crowd”Neverwarmedto us er ’lowedWe wuz quite so overlyWelcome as we aimed to be.Still it ’peared-like ever’thing—Fur away from home asthere—Had morerelish-like, i jing!—Fish in stream, er bird in air!O them rich old bottom-lands,Past where Cowden’s School-house stands!Wortermelons!—master-mine!Up and down old Brandywine!And sich pop-paws!—Lumps o’ rawGold and green,—jes oozy th’oughWith ripe yallar—like you’ve sawCustard-pie with no crust to:And jesgorgeso’ wild plumsTill a feller’d suck his thumbsClean up to his elbows!My!—Me some more er lem me die!Up and down old Brandywine!...Stripe me with pokeberry-juice!—Flick me with a pizen-vineAnd yell “Yip!” and lem me loose!—Old now as I then wuz young,’F I could sing as Ihavesung,Song ’ud shorely ringdee-vineUp and down old Brandywine!
Up and down old Brandywine,In the days ’at’s past and gone—With a dad-burn hook-and-lineAnd a saplin’-pole—i swawn!I’ve had more fun, to the squareInch, than everanywhere!Heaven to come can’t discountmine,Up and down old Brandywine!Hain’t no sense inwishin’—yitWisht to goodness Icouldjes“Gee” the blame’ world round and gitBack to that old happiness!—Kindo’ drive back in the shade“The old Covered Bridge” there laid’Crosst the crick, and sorto’ soakMy soul over, hub and spoke!Honest, now!—it hain’t nodream’At I’m wantin’,—butthe fac’sAs they wuz; the same old stream,And the same old times, i jacks!—Gimme back my bare feet—andStonebruise too!—And scratched and tanned!—And let hottest dog-days shineUp and down old Brandywine!In and on betwixt the trees’Long the banks, pour down yer noon,Kindo’ curdled with the breezeAnd the yallerhammer’s tune;And the smokin’, chokin’ dustO’ the turnpike at its wusst—Saturd’ys, say, when it seemsRoad’s jes jammed with country teams!Whilse the old town, fur away’Crosst the hazy pastur’-land,Dozed-like in the heat o’ dayPeaceful’ as a hired hand.Jolt the gravel th’ough the floorO’ the ole bridge!—grind and roarWith yer blame’ percession-line—Up and down old Brandywine!Souse me and my new straw hatOff the foot-log!—whatIcare?—Fist shoved in the crown o’ that—Like the old Clown ust to wear.—Wouldn’t swop it fer a’ oldGin-u-wine raal crown o’ gold!—Keep yerKingef you’ll gim meJes the boy I ust to be!Spill my fishin’-worms! er stealMy best “goggle-eye!”—but youCan’t lay hands on joys I feelNibblin’ like they ust to do!So, in memory, to-daySame old ripple lips awayAt my “cork” and saggin’ line,Up and down old Brandywine!There the logs is, round the hill,Where “Old Irvin” ust to liftOut sunfish from daylight tillDewfall—’fore he’d leave “The Drift”And giveusa chance—and thenKindo’ fish back home again,Ketchin’ ’em jes left and rightWherewehadn’t got “a bite”!Er, ’way windin’ out and in,—Old path th’ough the iurnweedsAnd dog-fennel to yer chin—Then come suddent, th’ough the reedsAnd cattails, smack into whereThem-air woods-hogs ust to scareUs clean ’crosst the County-line,Up and down old Brandywine!But the dim roar o’ the damIt ’ud coax us furder stillTo’rds the old race, slow and ca’m,Slidin’ on to Huston’s mill—Where, I ’spect, “the Freeport crowd”Neverwarmedto us er ’lowedWe wuz quite so overlyWelcome as we aimed to be.Still it ’peared-like ever’thing—Fur away from home asthere—Had morerelish-like, i jing!—Fish in stream, er bird in air!O them rich old bottom-lands,Past where Cowden’s School-house stands!Wortermelons!—master-mine!Up and down old Brandywine!And sich pop-paws!—Lumps o’ rawGold and green,—jes oozy th’oughWith ripe yallar—like you’ve sawCustard-pie with no crust to:And jesgorgeso’ wild plumsTill a feller’d suck his thumbsClean up to his elbows!My!—Me some more er lem me die!Up and down old Brandywine!...Stripe me with pokeberry-juice!—Flick me with a pizen-vineAnd yell “Yip!” and lem me loose!—Old now as I then wuz young,’F I could sing as Ihavesung,Song ’ud shorely ringdee-vineUp and down old Brandywine!
Up and down old Brandywine,In the days ’at’s past and gone—With a dad-burn hook-and-lineAnd a saplin’-pole—i swawn!I’ve had more fun, to the squareInch, than everanywhere!Heaven to come can’t discountmine,Up and down old Brandywine!
Up and down old Brandywine,
In the days ’at’s past and gone—
With a dad-burn hook-and-line
And a saplin’-pole—i swawn!
I’ve had more fun, to the square
Inch, than everanywhere!
Heaven to come can’t discountmine,
Up and down old Brandywine!
Hain’t no sense inwishin’—yitWisht to goodness Icouldjes“Gee” the blame’ world round and gitBack to that old happiness!—Kindo’ drive back in the shade“The old Covered Bridge” there laid’Crosst the crick, and sorto’ soakMy soul over, hub and spoke!
Hain’t no sense inwishin’—yit
Wisht to goodness Icouldjes
“Gee” the blame’ world round and git
Back to that old happiness!—
Kindo’ drive back in the shade
“The old Covered Bridge” there laid
’Crosst the crick, and sorto’ soak
My soul over, hub and spoke!
Honest, now!—it hain’t nodream’At I’m wantin’,—butthe fac’sAs they wuz; the same old stream,And the same old times, i jacks!—Gimme back my bare feet—andStonebruise too!—And scratched and tanned!—And let hottest dog-days shineUp and down old Brandywine!
Honest, now!—it hain’t nodream
’At I’m wantin’,—butthe fac’s
As they wuz; the same old stream,
And the same old times, i jacks!—
Gimme back my bare feet—and
Stonebruise too!—And scratched and tanned!—
And let hottest dog-days shine
Up and down old Brandywine!
In and on betwixt the trees’Long the banks, pour down yer noon,Kindo’ curdled with the breezeAnd the yallerhammer’s tune;And the smokin’, chokin’ dustO’ the turnpike at its wusst—Saturd’ys, say, when it seemsRoad’s jes jammed with country teams!
In and on betwixt the trees
’Long the banks, pour down yer noon,
Kindo’ curdled with the breeze
And the yallerhammer’s tune;
And the smokin’, chokin’ dust
O’ the turnpike at its wusst—
Saturd’ys, say, when it seems
Road’s jes jammed with country teams!
Whilse the old town, fur away’Crosst the hazy pastur’-land,Dozed-like in the heat o’ dayPeaceful’ as a hired hand.Jolt the gravel th’ough the floorO’ the ole bridge!—grind and roarWith yer blame’ percession-line—Up and down old Brandywine!
Whilse the old town, fur away
’Crosst the hazy pastur’-land,
Dozed-like in the heat o’ day
Peaceful’ as a hired hand.
Jolt the gravel th’ough the floor
O’ the ole bridge!—grind and roar
With yer blame’ percession-line—
Up and down old Brandywine!
Souse me and my new straw hatOff the foot-log!—whatIcare?—Fist shoved in the crown o’ that—Like the old Clown ust to wear.—Wouldn’t swop it fer a’ oldGin-u-wine raal crown o’ gold!—Keep yerKingef you’ll gim meJes the boy I ust to be!
Souse me and my new straw hat
Off the foot-log!—whatIcare?—
Fist shoved in the crown o’ that—
Like the old Clown ust to wear.—
Wouldn’t swop it fer a’ old
Gin-u-wine raal crown o’ gold!—
Keep yerKingef you’ll gim me
Jes the boy I ust to be!
Spill my fishin’-worms! er stealMy best “goggle-eye!”—but youCan’t lay hands on joys I feelNibblin’ like they ust to do!So, in memory, to-daySame old ripple lips awayAt my “cork” and saggin’ line,Up and down old Brandywine!
Spill my fishin’-worms! er steal
My best “goggle-eye!”—but you
Can’t lay hands on joys I feel
Nibblin’ like they ust to do!
So, in memory, to-day
Same old ripple lips away
At my “cork” and saggin’ line,
Up and down old Brandywine!
There the logs is, round the hill,Where “Old Irvin” ust to liftOut sunfish from daylight tillDewfall—’fore he’d leave “The Drift”And giveusa chance—and thenKindo’ fish back home again,Ketchin’ ’em jes left and rightWherewehadn’t got “a bite”!
There the logs is, round the hill,
Where “Old Irvin” ust to lift
Out sunfish from daylight till
Dewfall—’fore he’d leave “The Drift”
And giveusa chance—and then
Kindo’ fish back home again,
Ketchin’ ’em jes left and right
Wherewehadn’t got “a bite”!
Er, ’way windin’ out and in,—Old path th’ough the iurnweedsAnd dog-fennel to yer chin—Then come suddent, th’ough the reedsAnd cattails, smack into whereThem-air woods-hogs ust to scareUs clean ’crosst the County-line,Up and down old Brandywine!
Er, ’way windin’ out and in,—
Old path th’ough the iurnweeds
And dog-fennel to yer chin—
Then come suddent, th’ough the reeds
And cattails, smack into where
Them-air woods-hogs ust to scare
Us clean ’crosst the County-line,
Up and down old Brandywine!
But the dim roar o’ the damIt ’ud coax us furder stillTo’rds the old race, slow and ca’m,Slidin’ on to Huston’s mill—Where, I ’spect, “the Freeport crowd”Neverwarmedto us er ’lowedWe wuz quite so overlyWelcome as we aimed to be.
But the dim roar o’ the dam
It ’ud coax us furder still
To’rds the old race, slow and ca’m,
Slidin’ on to Huston’s mill—
Where, I ’spect, “the Freeport crowd”
Neverwarmedto us er ’lowed
We wuz quite so overly
Welcome as we aimed to be.
Still it ’peared-like ever’thing—Fur away from home asthere—Had morerelish-like, i jing!—Fish in stream, er bird in air!O them rich old bottom-lands,Past where Cowden’s School-house stands!Wortermelons!—master-mine!Up and down old Brandywine!
Still it ’peared-like ever’thing—
Fur away from home asthere—
Had morerelish-like, i jing!—
Fish in stream, er bird in air!
O them rich old bottom-lands,
Past where Cowden’s School-house stands!
Wortermelons!—master-mine!
Up and down old Brandywine!
And sich pop-paws!—Lumps o’ rawGold and green,—jes oozy th’oughWith ripe yallar—like you’ve sawCustard-pie with no crust to:And jesgorgeso’ wild plumsTill a feller’d suck his thumbsClean up to his elbows!My!—Me some more er lem me die!
And sich pop-paws!—Lumps o’ raw
Gold and green,—jes oozy th’ough
With ripe yallar—like you’ve saw
Custard-pie with no crust to:
And jesgorgeso’ wild plums
Till a feller’d suck his thumbs
Clean up to his elbows!My!—
Me some more er lem me die!
Up and down old Brandywine!...Stripe me with pokeberry-juice!—Flick me with a pizen-vineAnd yell “Yip!” and lem me loose!—Old now as I then wuz young,’F I could sing as Ihavesung,Song ’ud shorely ringdee-vineUp and down old Brandywine!
Up and down old Brandywine!...
Stripe me with pokeberry-juice!—
Flick me with a pizen-vine
And yell “Yip!” and lem me loose!
—Old now as I then wuz young,
’F I could sing as Ihavesung,
Song ’ud shorely ringdee-vine
Up and down old Brandywine!