Jasper County Democrat, Volume 3, Number 50, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 March 1901 — When We Bilt the Sirup Down. [ARTICLE]

When We Bilt the Sirup Down.

Thar’s somethin’ in this weather That has a charm for me; These freexin’ nights an’ thawin’ days Brings back the used to be; For mem’ry bears me from the sight An’ bustle of the town To the silence of the foreet, Whar we bilt the sirup down. ’Pears I see that ol' rati shanty, Its every nook aglow With light, from 'neath the kettles, An’ the sirup simmerin’ low, An’ I hear the merry laughter Of the neighbor boys aroun’. Who had jined us in the evenin’ To help bile the sirup down. Thar’s the dogs stretched ’round, a-waitin’ For the stakin' of the moon. To take their 'customed circuit For the wily, wanderin’ coon; Thar’s the taters in the ashes, An’ the corn a-parchln’ brown. With the stars a-gleamin’ o'er ns, An’ the sirup bilin’ down. * As the flames with fitful flashes Lit up the forest near, While beyond the deep bung shadows, Roused that dreamy, boyish fear We would ’spoain’ we war settlers. With the injuns prowlin’ roun'. An’ we’d huddle close together. While the sirup simmered down. You kin boast of all yer grande'r Of the city, with its din. An' the new fan-dangled fixin’s ’Twixt the walls that hem you In. But you’ve never tasted pleasure, An’ you’ll say ao. I’ll be boun’. When you gather 'round the kettles. With the sirup bilin’ down. Sometimes when cares fall heavy, An’ clouds drive out the day, I hear a low. sweet hummln’ Like music far away, Then clouds and sorrows vanish, A smile runs off the frown, An' again I’m by the furnace, With the sirup bilin’ down. I know these days are passed away. To come back never more. But jis’ ’bout this time o’ year I always live 'em o’er; That’s why this kind o' weather I sort o' dream an’ walk aroun', A-listenin’ to the music of The sirup bilin’ down. —John W. Reiley, in Cincinnati Enquirer.