Explore "My Old Gray Nag" by Joseph C. Lincoln on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When the farm work's done, at the set of sun, / And the supper's cleared away, / And Ma, she sits on the porch and knits, / And Dad, he puffs his clay; / Then out I go ter the barn, yer know, / With never a word ner sign, / In the twilight dim I harness him -- / That old gray nag of mine.
He's used ter me, and he knows, yer see, / Down jest which lane ter turn; / Fact is -- well, yes -- he's been, I guess, / Quite times enough ter learn; / And he knows the hedge by the brook's damp edge, / Where the twinklin' fireflies shine, / And he knows who waits by the pastur' gates -- / That old gray nag of mine.