Old John Clevenger on Buckeyes

Old John Clevenger lets on, / Allus, like he's purty rough / Timber. -- He's a grate old John! -- / "Rough? " -- don't swaller no sich stuff! / Moved here, sence the war was through, / From Ohio -- somers near / Old Bucyrus, -- loyal, too, / As us "Hoosiers" is to _here_! / Git old John stirred up a bit / On his old home stompin'-ground -- / Talks same as he lived thare yit, / When some subject brings it round -- / Like, fer instunce, Sund'y last, / Fetched his wife, and et and stayed / All night with us. -- Set and gassed / Tel plum midnight -- 'cause I made / Some remark 'bout "buckeyes" and / "What was buckeyes good fer? " -- So, / Like I 'lowed, he waved his hand / And lit in and let me know: -- / "What is Buckeyes good fer? ' -- What's / _Pineys_ and _fergitmenots_? -- / Honeysuckles, and sweet peas.

And sweet-williamsuz, and these / Johnny-jump-ups ev'rywhare, / Growin' round the roots o' trees / In Spring-weather? -- what air _they_ / Good fer? -- kin you tell me -- _Hey? _ / 'Good to look at? ' Well they air! / 'Specially when _Winter's_ gone, / Clean _dead-certin! _ and the wood's / Green again, and sun feels good's / June! -- and shed your blame boots on / The back porch, and lit out to / Roam round like you ust to do, / Bare-foot, up and down the crick, / Whare the buckeyes growed so thick, / And witch-hazel and pop-paws, / And hackberries and black-haws -- / With wild pizen-vines jis knit / _Over_ and _en-nunder_ it.