Explore "Bill Non-Committal" by Payson Sibley Wild on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I s'pose all farmers gits thet way in time, / An' I don't wonder; it's enough ter make / Perfesh'nal prophits feel onsartin like. / I mean the everlastin' buckin' up / Agin ol' Nacher an' the elemunts / Year in, year out, ontil ye wouldn't sw'ar / 'T ye've got 'ny oats at all, f'r exampel, even / When cut an' thrashed an' layin' in the bin; / Yew know thet somp'n still kin spile thet crop. / 'F a farmer wants ter gamble, he don't hev / Ter speckerlate on 'Change; I should say not; / Jes' let 'im farm it, plain an' orn'ry farm it- / Thet's all he's gotta dew. I'll bet ye'n less / 'N a fortnit he'd be plum dead sure 't 'is chances / Fer buy'n' a kerosene kerridge playin' faro / Was ten ter one agin the farmin' game.
Naow jes' consider what the farmer's got / Ter fight; they's tew much rain or not enough; / 'F 'e 's got a crick, 't will overflow an' drownd / 'Is corn, or else 't will be a ditch o' dust; / An' then they's ev'ry bug in all helnation / A-eatin' off his truck an' animuls; / They's lightnin', winter-killin', rust, an' smut, / An' wind-'d yew ever see one them black twisters / Come rippin' down an' shave the ten foot silage / Right off a eighty slick's a whistle? I hev. / It's one the grandes', weerdes' sights on earth, / But hell on farmin'. Yew cain't blame a farmer / 'F 'e aint quite sure thet death an' taxes might / Not leave 'im be. Mos' farmers won't commit / The'rsel's on nothin' 't all, an' ain't they right? / The trooth on't is, they don't jes' 'zac'ly know / The'r soul's the'r own, an' Bill he's that 'a' way.