WE all have seen a sultry spurt Along in mid-July, When gallus buckles stain your shirt As black as whisker dye; When jackknives rust and sideboards "seize," And lightstand doors beswell— That's when we used to put the cream 'Way down inside the well. When burdocks wilt and saltshakes balk And ink writes through your sheet; When robins pant and rabbits walk And hens lay down to eat; When grinstones crack at dead of night, And sometimes jars of jell— That's when the cream pail had to go At twilight down the well. The last of all the chores and cares A "scorcher" brought about, Was running down the bulkhead stairs To fetch the cream pail out; With butter eighteen cents a pound We had no cream to sell Or use or lose—we kept it sweet 'Way down inside the well. We had a butchering gambrel 'round To lay acrost the top Of Mr. Well, because we found It wouldn't roll or flop; To this we sailorized the rope, For if a thing befell That rigging, what a mess there'd be 'Way down inside the well! It made a feller stop and think To stiddy down that pail, For when the bottom struck the drink There still was time to fail; And such glub sounds come crumping up You held your breath a spell— 'Twas ticklish business putting cream 'Way down our deep old well. But now the trucks come 'round and glean The cream, and sad but true, They've built a tank for gasoline Inside the well I knew; There's nothing left but these old thoughts That ring a little knell Of recollection o'er the cream We storaged down the well. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A TIME TO DANCE by CECIL DAY LEWIS ESTHER; A YOUNG MAN'S TRAGEDY: 50 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT WAR IS KIND: 1 by STEPHEN CRANE LONDON VOLUNTARIES: 3. SCHERZANDO by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY THE QUESTION by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY AT LORD'S [CRICKET GROUND] by FRANCIS THOMPSON |