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1870–1944

THE CUCKOO CLOCK

Joseph Crosby Lincoln

When Ezry, that's my sister's son, come home from furrin parts, He fetched the folks a lot of things ter brighten up their hearts; He fetched‘ em silks and gloves and clothes, and knick-knacks, too, a stock, But all he fetched fer us was jest a fancy cuckoo clock.

‘ T was all fixed up with paint and gilt, and had a little door Where sat the cutest little bird, and when‘ t was three or four Or five or six or any time, that bird would jest come out And,‘ cordin’ ter what time it was, he'd flap his wings and shout:

“Hoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo!” Well, fust along we had it, why, I thought‘ twas simply prime! And used to poke the hands around ter make it “cuckoo” time; And allers when we'd company come, they had ter see the thing,

And, course they almost had a fit when “birdie” come ter sing. But, by and by, b'gosh! I found it somehow lost its joys, I found it kind er made me sick to hear that senseless noise; I wished‘ t was jest a common clock, that struck a gong, yer know,

And did n't have no foolish bird ter flap his wings and go: “Hoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo!” Well, things git on from bad to wuss, until I'm free ter grant, I'd smash it into kindlin’, but a present, so, I can n't!

And, though a member of the church, and deacon, I declare, That thing jest sets me up on end and makes me want ter swear! I try ter be religious and ter tread the narrer way, But seems as if that critter knew when I knelt down ter pray,

And all my thoughts of heaven go a-tumblin’ down ter,— well, A different kind of climate — when that bird sets out ter yell: “Hoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo!” I read once in a poetry book, that Ezry had ter home,

The awful fuss a feller made about a crow, that come And pestered him about ter death and made him sick and sore, By settin’ on his mantel-piece and hollerin’ “Nevermore!” But, say, I'd ruther have the crow, with all his fuss and row,

His bellerin’ had some sense, b'gosh!‘ T was English, anyhow; And all the crows in Christendom that talked a Christian talk Would seem like nightingales, compared ter that air furrin squawk: “Hoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo!”

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THE CUCKOO CLOCK · Joseph Crosby Lincoln · Poetry Cove