Excerpt from The Fogy Days and Now, or the World Has Changed

On Seneca's banks so often fished,
Her woods and fields all I wished,
There drove the deer, knew every stand,
And chased the fox through brake and strand.

Have hunted every dell and hill,
There slaked my thirst from every rill,
From tree top did the squirrel bring,
Shot down the partridge on the wing.

Have treed the possum and the coon,
"Larnt" the signs from stars and moon,
Before the lark, didn't count it trouble
To hunt the roost where turkeys gobble.

Picked the strings and drawed the bow,
To lively tunes fiddle and banjo,
My old tutor darkey, Fiddler Jack,
How these memories carry me back.

Back, back to good old days of yore,
Back to the olden days galore,
To that home in the Piedmont land,
Where mountain zephyrs softly fanned.

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