Explore "Bill's Vote" by Payson Sibley Wild on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
(_November, 1916_)
I ast Bill lately how 'e's goin ter vote. / We stood thar in the feed lot handin' out / Ter gruntin' Durocs ears o' yeller corn. / Bill kep' 'is mouth shet longer 'n I could wait, / An' so I ast again: "Yo' ain't decided? " / He looked right smart like he was goin' ter laff, / But didn't, tho' a smile loafed 'round 'is eyes. / "It's kind o' mixy, true 's yew live," he sez, / A-pokin' with 'is boot a big fat sow / (Who'd swiped a ear from one the little runts) / Until she squealed an' cussed at 'im in what / Bill calls Hog Latin, ran a rod, an' sulked / Fi' seconds, then snook back ter snitch some more- / "Yer caint tell nothin' 'bout a feller's vote / This year. Take ol' Doc Garner-demicrat / Sence 'sixty-nine, but sez he's goin' ter vote / Agin th' administration 'cos he jes' / Caint stand fer no ameeba (mebbe yew / Know what thet is) fer president. An' then / Thar's Peleg Towle 'at runs the paper here- / Oak-ribbed republican sence I dunno- / He sez we'd orter be almity glad / We ain't ter war, an' he do' want no ice-berg / A-settin' on no Congress' back door steps / A-try'n' ter hatch no batch o' tory laws! / Wal, thar ye be; it's julluk thet all 'round; / A feller's looks don't give away 'is vote.