A Treat Ode
“Scurious-like,” said the treetoad,
“I’ve twittered fer rain all day;
And I got up soon,
And hollered till noon—
But the sun hit blazed away,
Till I jest clumb down in a crawfish-hole
Weary at heart, and sick at soul!
“Dozed away fer an hour,
And I tackled the thing agin;
And I sung, and sung,
Till I knowed my lung
Was jest about to give in;
And then, thinks I, ef it don’t rain now,
There’re nothin’ in singin’ anyhow.
“Once in a while some farmer
Would come a driven’ past
And he’d hear my cry,
And stop and sigh—
Till I jest laid back, at last,
And I hollered rain till I thought my throat
Would bust wide open at ever’ note!
“But I fetched her!—O I fetched her!—
’Cause a little while ago,
As I kindo’ set
With one eye shet,
And a-singin’ soft and low,
A voice drapped down on my fevered brain
Sayin’,—‘Ef you’ll jest hush I’ll rain!’”