Rensselaer Republican, Volume 12, Number 33, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 April 1880 — Roostin’ on de Fence. [ARTICLE]

Roostin’ on de Fence.

Extract from official proceedings of the Detroit Litpekiln Club, as reported in the Free Press: “ One day las’ fawl,” began the President, as Elder Toots settle l back for his usual nap, “I war’ passin’ up Antoine street,* an* I seed Cutwater Smith a-sittin’ on ac fence. In de airly winter 1 passed dat way agin an’ 1 saw him huntin’ de streets for wood. De odder day I had bizness wid him, an’ I foun’ de fam’ly out o’ fewel, out o’ purvishuns, and wuss off fur clothes dan my ole cow ever was fur a blanket. I knew what would happen de fu3t time I saw him roostin' ou de fence. I tell ye, cull’d men, de man who roosts on "de fence in de fawl will hug a cold stove an’ look into an empty cupboard all winter. Dis world owes no man a libin’. If any member of dis club has got dat ide&h under his kinks he wants to wollop it out right away. What de world owes a man, an’ what it gibs to ebery man is a fair chance to airn his bread an’ butter. I h'ar people groanin’ out dat luck is agin ’em/ Out upon luck! If luck means anythin’ it’s steady work an’ takin’ care of de sbtllins. Oder folks am whinin’ aroun’ dat dey hev no show. No show in dis big world! Why, eben de Hies an’ skeetors hev a show! Ebery man has a chance to reach up, but when he makes a saloon his headquarters he’s got to reach down. I doan’ go mueh on public charity myself, but when I am gibin’ I’d sooner gib to a wide-awake thief than to a whinin’, complainin’ loafor. De curtain will now be lifted on de reg’lar time-table of bizness.” . Fiddles and guitars were put in order, and the Glee Club tackled the following: Tie a letter from thy dad, Baby mine—baby mine— Ize a letter from thy dail, baby mine; He am out o’ meat an' tiour, An’ bc’s lookin’ mighty sour, An’ de wood won t an hour, Baby mine—baby mine. Chorus— Mix de whitewash Pick up de brush. Hunt up a JobGo it wid a rush. He was sottin’ on do fenoo, Baby mine—baby mine— He was sottin' on de fence, baby mlno; Yes, he loafed away de full. And now de babies squall— Baby mine—baby mine. Chorus— Loaf! loaf! loaf I An’ guzzle down de beer; De city has a big poor fund To gib you ebery y’ar. Second Chorus— Work! work! work! Go on wid steady tread. An’ dar will be plenty to eat and drink An' a big dog under de bed.