A Convalescin’ Woman

January 3, 2008

A convalescin’ woman does the strangest sort o’
things,
An’ it’s wonderful the courage that a little new
strength brings;
O, it’s never safe to leave her for an hour or two
alone,
Or you’ll find th’ doctor’s good work has been
quickly overthrown.
There’s that wife o’ mine, I reckon she’s a sample
of ‘em all;
She’s been mighty sick, I tell you, an’ to-day can
scarcely crawl,
But I left her jes’ this mornin’ while I fought
potater bugs,
An’ I got back home an’ caught her in the back
yard shakin’ rugs.
I ain’t often cross with Nellie, an’ I let her have
her way,
But it made me mad as thunder when I got back
home to-day
An’ found her doin’ labor that’d tax a big man’s
strength ;
An’ I guess I lost my temper, for I scolded her
at length,
Til I seen her teardrops fallin’ an’ she said : “I
couldn’t stand
To see those rugs so dirty, so I took ‘em all in
hand,
An’ it ain’t hurt me nuther see, I’m gettin’
strong again ”
An’ I said : ” Doggone it ! can’t ye leave sich
work as that f er men ? ”
Once I had her in a hospittle fer weeks an’ weeks
an’ weeks,
An’ she wasted most to nothin’, an’ th’ roses left
her cheeks;
An’ one night I feared I’d lose her; ’twas the
turnin’ point, I guess,
Coz th’ next day I remember that th’ doctor said :
“Success!”
Well, I brought her home an’ told her that for
two months she must stay
A-sittin’ in her rocker an’ jes’ watch th’ kids at
play.
An’ th’ first week she was patient, but I mind the
way I swore
On th’ day when I discovered ‘at she’d scrubbed
th’ kitchen floor.
O, you can’t keep wimmin quiet, an’ they ain’t
a bit like men ;
They’re hungerin’ every minute jes’ to get to
work again ;
An’ you’ve got to watch ‘em allus, when you
know they’re weak an’ ill,
Coz th’ minute that yer back is turned they’ll
labor fit to kill.
Th’ house ain’t cleaned to suit ‘em an’ they seem
to fret an’ fume
‘Less they’re busy doin’ somethin’ with a mop
or else a broom;
An’ it ain’t no use to scold ‘em an’ it ain’t no use
to swear,
Coz th’ next time they will do it jes’ the minute
you ain’t there.

Posted in The Path to Home