I.
Talk about the joys of winter! Whut's the fun of foolin' round
With the posies dead en buried, en the snows upon the ground?
When the wind's a-tossin' blizzards in a most distressin' way
Tell you have to set a-straddle of the fire-place all the day!
But I tell ye life's a-livin' when the summer grows the grass
Over all the nooks en crannies whayre a feller's feet kin pass,
En the whole world seems of heaven but a half-forgotten type,
When the roas'in'-ears air plenty en the worter-millons ripe!