THE KEY TO THOMAS' HEART.
Ridewith me, Uncle Nathan? * *I don't care an' I do.My poor old heart's in a hurry; I'm anxious to get through.My soul outwalks my body; my legs are far from strong;An' it's mighty kind o' you, doctor, to help the old man along.I'm some'at full o' hustle; there's business to be done.I've just been out to the village to see my youngest son.You used to know him, doctor, ere he his age did get,An' if I ain't mistaken, you sometimes see him yet.We took him through his boyhood, with never a ground for fears;But somehow he stumbled over his early manhood's years.The landmarks that we showed him, he seems to wander from,Though in his heart there was never a better boy than Tom.He was quick o' mind an' body in all he done an' said;But all the gold he reached for, it seemed to turn to lead.The devil of grog it caught him, an' held him, though the whileHe has never grudged his parents a pleasant word an' smile.The devil of grog it caught him, an' then he turned an' said.By that which fed from off him, he henceforth would be fed;An' that which lived upon him, should give him a livin' o'er;An' so he keeps that groggery that's next to Wilson's store.But howsoe'er he's wandered, I've al'ays so far heardThat he had a sense of honor, an' never broke his word;An' his mother, from the good Lord, she says, has understoodThat, if he agrees to be sober, he'll keep the promise good.An' so when just this mornin' these poor old eyes o' mineSaw all the women round him, a-coaxin' him to sign,An' when the Widow Adams let fly a homespun prayer,An' he looked kind o' wild like, an' started unaware,
Ridewith me, Uncle Nathan? * *I don't care an' I do.My poor old heart's in a hurry; I'm anxious to get through.My soul outwalks my body; my legs are far from strong;An' it's mighty kind o' you, doctor, to help the old man along.I'm some'at full o' hustle; there's business to be done.I've just been out to the village to see my youngest son.You used to know him, doctor, ere he his age did get,An' if I ain't mistaken, you sometimes see him yet.We took him through his boyhood, with never a ground for fears;But somehow he stumbled over his early manhood's years.The landmarks that we showed him, he seems to wander from,Though in his heart there was never a better boy than Tom.He was quick o' mind an' body in all he done an' said;But all the gold he reached for, it seemed to turn to lead.The devil of grog it caught him, an' held him, though the whileHe has never grudged his parents a pleasant word an' smile.The devil of grog it caught him, an' then he turned an' said.By that which fed from off him, he henceforth would be fed;An' that which lived upon him, should give him a livin' o'er;An' so he keeps that groggery that's next to Wilson's store.But howsoe'er he's wandered, I've al'ays so far heardThat he had a sense of honor, an' never broke his word;An' his mother, from the good Lord, she says, has understoodThat, if he agrees to be sober, he'll keep the promise good.An' so when just this mornin' these poor old eyes o' mineSaw all the women round him, a-coaxin' him to sign,An' when the Widow Adams let fly a homespun prayer,An' he looked kind o' wild like, an' started unaware,
Ridewith me, Uncle Nathan? * *I don't care an' I do.My poor old heart's in a hurry; I'm anxious to get through.My soul outwalks my body; my legs are far from strong;An' it's mighty kind o' you, doctor, to help the old man along.
Ridewith me, Uncle Nathan? * *
I don't care an' I do.
My poor old heart's in a hurry; I'm anxious to get through.
My soul outwalks my body; my legs are far from strong;
An' it's mighty kind o' you, doctor, to help the old man along.
I'm some'at full o' hustle; there's business to be done.I've just been out to the village to see my youngest son.You used to know him, doctor, ere he his age did get,An' if I ain't mistaken, you sometimes see him yet.
I'm some'at full o' hustle; there's business to be done.
I've just been out to the village to see my youngest son.
You used to know him, doctor, ere he his age did get,
An' if I ain't mistaken, you sometimes see him yet.
We took him through his boyhood, with never a ground for fears;But somehow he stumbled over his early manhood's years.The landmarks that we showed him, he seems to wander from,Though in his heart there was never a better boy than Tom.
We took him through his boyhood, with never a ground for fears;
But somehow he stumbled over his early manhood's years.
The landmarks that we showed him, he seems to wander from,
Though in his heart there was never a better boy than Tom.
He was quick o' mind an' body in all he done an' said;But all the gold he reached for, it seemed to turn to lead.The devil of grog it caught him, an' held him, though the whileHe has never grudged his parents a pleasant word an' smile.
He was quick o' mind an' body in all he done an' said;
But all the gold he reached for, it seemed to turn to lead.
The devil of grog it caught him, an' held him, though the while
He has never grudged his parents a pleasant word an' smile.
The devil of grog it caught him, an' then he turned an' said.By that which fed from off him, he henceforth would be fed;An' that which lived upon him, should give him a livin' o'er;An' so he keeps that groggery that's next to Wilson's store.
The devil of grog it caught him, an' then he turned an' said.
By that which fed from off him, he henceforth would be fed;
An' that which lived upon him, should give him a livin' o'er;
An' so he keeps that groggery that's next to Wilson's store.
But howsoe'er he's wandered, I've al'ays so far heardThat he had a sense of honor, an' never broke his word;An' his mother, from the good Lord, she says, has understoodThat, if he agrees to be sober, he'll keep the promise good.
But howsoe'er he's wandered, I've al'ays so far heard
That he had a sense of honor, an' never broke his word;
An' his mother, from the good Lord, she says, has understood
That, if he agrees to be sober, he'll keep the promise good.
An' so when just this mornin' these poor old eyes o' mineSaw all the women round him, a-coaxin' him to sign,An' when the Widow Adams let fly a homespun prayer,An' he looked kind o' wild like, an' started unaware,
An' so when just this mornin' these poor old eyes o' mine
Saw all the women round him, a-coaxin' him to sign,
An' when the Widow Adams let fly a homespun prayer,
An' he looked kind o' wild like, an' started unaware,
"THE MOTHER, WHO CARRIES THE KEY TO THOMAS' HEART."
"THE MOTHER, WHO CARRIES THE KEY TO THOMAS' HEART."
An' glanced at her an instant, an' then at his kegs o' rum,I somehow knew in a minute the turnin'-point had come;An' he would be as good a man as ever yet there's been,Or else let go forever, an' sink in the sea of sin.An' I knew, whatever efforts might carry him or fail,There was only one could help God to turn the waverin' scale;An' I skulked away in a hurry—I was bound to do my part—To get the mother, who carries the key to Thomas' heart.She's gettin' old an' feeble, an' childish in her talk;An' we've no horse an' buggy, an' she will have to walk;But she would be fast to come, sir, the gracious chance to seize,If she had to crawl to Thomas upon her hands an' knees.Crawl?—walk? No, not if I know it! So set your mind at rest.Why, hang it! I'm Tom's customer, and said to be his best!But if this blooded horse here will show his usual power,Poor Tom shall see his mother in less than half an hour.
An' glanced at her an instant, an' then at his kegs o' rum,I somehow knew in a minute the turnin'-point had come;An' he would be as good a man as ever yet there's been,Or else let go forever, an' sink in the sea of sin.An' I knew, whatever efforts might carry him or fail,There was only one could help God to turn the waverin' scale;An' I skulked away in a hurry—I was bound to do my part—To get the mother, who carries the key to Thomas' heart.She's gettin' old an' feeble, an' childish in her talk;An' we've no horse an' buggy, an' she will have to walk;But she would be fast to come, sir, the gracious chance to seize,If she had to crawl to Thomas upon her hands an' knees.Crawl?—walk? No, not if I know it! So set your mind at rest.Why, hang it! I'm Tom's customer, and said to be his best!But if this blooded horse here will show his usual power,Poor Tom shall see his mother in less than half an hour.
An' glanced at her an instant, an' then at his kegs o' rum,I somehow knew in a minute the turnin'-point had come;An' he would be as good a man as ever yet there's been,Or else let go forever, an' sink in the sea of sin.
An' glanced at her an instant, an' then at his kegs o' rum,
I somehow knew in a minute the turnin'-point had come;
An' he would be as good a man as ever yet there's been,
Or else let go forever, an' sink in the sea of sin.
An' I knew, whatever efforts might carry him or fail,There was only one could help God to turn the waverin' scale;An' I skulked away in a hurry—I was bound to do my part—To get the mother, who carries the key to Thomas' heart.
An' I knew, whatever efforts might carry him or fail,
There was only one could help God to turn the waverin' scale;
An' I skulked away in a hurry—I was bound to do my part—
To get the mother, who carries the key to Thomas' heart.
She's gettin' old an' feeble, an' childish in her talk;An' we've no horse an' buggy, an' she will have to walk;But she would be fast to come, sir, the gracious chance to seize,If she had to crawl to Thomas upon her hands an' knees.Crawl?—walk? No, not if I know it! So set your mind at rest.Why, hang it! I'm Tom's customer, and said to be his best!But if this blooded horse here will show his usual power,Poor Tom shall see his mother in less than half an hour.
She's gettin' old an' feeble, an' childish in her talk;
An' we've no horse an' buggy, an' she will have to walk;
But she would be fast to come, sir, the gracious chance to seize,
If she had to crawl to Thomas upon her hands an' knees.
Crawl?—walk? No, not if I know it! So set your mind at rest.
Why, hang it! I'm Tom's customer, and said to be his best!
But if this blooded horse here will show his usual power,
Poor Tom shall see his mother in less than half an hour.
Decoration.