Michigan BRANCH COUNTY
And then another and others came following on
As the years went flitting by; Yet for each and every one of them,
We were ready to live or die.
They all learned how to read and. spell
And cipher and write some too; In fact, every one wrote a plainer hand
Than children nowadays do.
To be sure they didn't have Latin and Greek,
That sort of classic varnish, But they had enough of common sense,
To keep them free from tarnish.
They had the good old English Reader, The Rule of Three and Kirkham;
And when the teacher caught 'em throwing wads, He wan't afraid to jerk 'em.
The school-house wan't built of brick,
With patent seats and steam; But with fire-place, slab-desks, and logs outside,
And ventilated with cracks between.
And a day or two since, my dear,
I wandered up yonder street Where we laid away those dear ones.
Whose faces we soon must greet.
And, as I sauntered along those path-ways,
Halting each now and then; I read in marble letters,
Of neighbors, again and again;
Until it almost seemed to me.
I'd be more at home up there; But God knows best the burden of years
He wants his children to bear.
And then what a time we had,
Beginning in Sixty-One; When a vacant place at many a hearth,
Told of war for freedom begun.
How the cannon that boomed at Sumpter,
Went echoing from hill-top to glen; Till Lincoln's first call for heroes,
Brought three hundred thousand men.
I know I didn't go myself,
But for that I wan't to blame; For I tried to pass the muster,
But was too weak and lame.
BRANCH COUNTY MICHIGAN
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