I'LL tell you what 'twas fun to do Along the last of Fall; I'll tell you how we done it, too, In case 'twould please you all; And first, you have to have a block Of good old frozen ground, A cornbarn with a door and lock And lots of stock around. Yes; real old-fashioned frozen ground— Not jest a gravel bed— And lots of head of stock around, Precisely as I said; A cornbarn door that locks fusstrate, And punkins ripe and good, And then the charm will operate Exactly as it should. You next unlock the cornbarn door And climb the steps with care, And pick some punkins off the floor, As big as any there; You hold one up that's yellowish red, The kind you know they like, A-jest to see if any head Is on a hunger strike. Them golden punkins then you dash, With all the strength you're worth, And break 'em all to smithering smash Against the frozen earth; By Golferinus! how they crack, The pieces, how they fly! A-like as not the seeds come back And hit you in the eye. My Stars! the way them cattle rare And butt and buck and hook: The old red cow is everywhere Before your eyes can look; The two-year-olds, they stomp and stamp, The yearlings come to blows, The heifers wear a frothy guimpe, The cosset blows his nose. In spite of these unchristian checks Each head a-gets a piece; You watch the chunks go through their necks, Like lawyers through a lease; And, as you turn the cornbarn lock, You solemnly declare That punkins, sure, was made for stock, The same as hide and hair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PASSING OF THE EX-SLAVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE SEEDLING by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR HEROIC LOVE by JAMES GRAHAM (1612-1650) TO YOUTH by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE FIRST SNOWFALL by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL |