  Sixty Years Ago. I WANT to sing a little song, Of the people and their ways; And how the people got along Away back in early days. We rather thought the quickest way To let the people know,— We would sing to them Of how we lived, Just Sixty Years Ago. When coon-skins was two bits apiece, And beeswax was a bit, And eggs four cents a dozen— That was all that we could get; And deer-skins always went at par, And feathers was not slow; And that’s the money people had Just Sixty Years Ago. And, Oh! that big old fire-place.— It took a sight of wood; We would haul it on a “lizzard”— And we would pile on all we could; We would haul a big long hickory log, Especially when there was snow;— For we worked two yoke of cattle then;— The school house was of elm logs— The bark was all left on; I never saw no other kind Till I was nearly grown. The children got some learning, But, of course, it was rather slow;— My! how the teacher “licked” the “kids” Just Sixty Years Ago. And when it came to raising corn, We did not get much rest For the want of tools to work with, We had to do our best. We plowed with wooden mouldboard plow And our lines were made of tow; And that’s the kind of tools we had Just Sixty Years Ago. And when the people went to church They always wore their best; They wore their home-made pantaloons— I hate to tell the rest. The girls wore striped dresses, And the boys wore shirts of tow;— And that’s the way the people dressed We did not care for stocks or bonds, They were not in our line;— But, if we wanted whiskey, We got it every time. The boys could bake the “johnnycake” And the girls knew how to mow; Oh! was not we a “jolly set?” Just Sixty Years Ago. decoration |
|
