And I've Made Me An Illigant Pig-Sty,
Well Litter'd Wid Straw And Wid Hay;
And It's There, Free From Noise Of The Chilther,
I Sleep In The Heat Of The Day.
It's there I'm intirely at aise, sir,
And enjoy all the comforts of home;
I stretch out my legs as I plase, sir,
And dhrame of the pleasures to come.
Shure, it's pleasant to hear the frogs croakin',
When the sun's going down in the sky,
And my Judy sits quietly smokin'
While the praties are boil'd till they're dhry.
Och! thin, if you love indepindence,
And have money your passage to pay,
You must quit the ould counthry intirely,
And start in the middle of May.
J.W.D.M.
CHAPTER XX
DISAPPOINTED HOPES
Stern Disappointment, in thy iron grasp
The soul lies stricken. So the timid deer,
Who feels the foul fangs of the felon wolf
Clench'd in his throat, grown desperate for life,
Turns on his foes, and battles with the fate
That hems him in - and only yields in death.
The summer of '35 was very wet; a circumstance so unusual in Canada
that I have seen no season like it during my sojourn in the country.
Our wheat crop promised to be both excellent and abundant; and the
clearing and seeding sixteen acres, one way or another, had cost us
more than fifty pounds, still, we hoped to realise something
handsome by the sale of the produce; and, as far as appearances
went, all looked fair.
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