A Western Boy’s Lament.

I wished I lived away Down East, where codfish salt the sea,

And where the folks have pumpkin-pie and apple-sass for tea.

Us boys who’s livin’ here out West, don’t get more’n half a show:

We don’t have nothin’ else to do but jest to sort o’ grow.

Oh! if I wuz a bird I’d fly a million miles away

To where they feed their boys on pork and beans three times a day;

To where the place they call the Hub, gives out its shiny spokes,

And where the folks—so father says—is mostly women-folks.

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