An that fires real cosy with the shades drawed.
Well, I guess folks about here think Ive ben dretful onsociable.
You neednt say taint so, cause I know diffrent.
An whats more, its true.
Well, the reason is Ive ben scared out o my life.
Scared evry minit o th time, fer eight year.
Eight mortal year tis, come next June.
Twas on the eighteenth o June,
Six months after Id buried my husband,
That somethin happened ter me.
Mebbe youll mind that afore that
I was a cheery body.
Hiram was too,
Alays liked to ask a neighbor in,
An evn when he died,
Barrin low sperrits, I warnt averse to seein nobody.
But that eighteenth o June changed evrythin.
I was doin most o th farmwork myself,
With jest a hired boy, Clarence King, twas,
Comin in fer an hour or two.
Well, that eighteenth o June
I was goin round,
Lockin up and seein to things fore I went to bed.
I was jest steppin out t th barn,
Goin round outside stead o through the shed,
Cause there was such a sight o moonlight
Somehow or another I thought twould be pretty outdoors.
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