From The Topeka State Journal, December 28, 1912. By Roy K. Moulton. All the treetoads are a yellin’ And the bees are buzzin’ round. The grasshoppers are hoppin’ Here and there upon the ground. All the birds are sweetly singin’ And all nature seems in tune. Makes a feller feel like workin’ Workin’ morning, night, and noon. And a sweet and wholesome odor Is a-risin’ from the earth. And the old sun is a-shinin’, Shinin’ down for all it’s worth. All the country folks are hustlin’ Startin’ at the break of day. Mother, she is busy cannin’, Me and dad are makin’ hay. Tell you what, we got to go some For there ain’t no time to lose, Four o’clock most every mornin’ Finds a feller in his shoes. Then he’s got to feed the horses And the pigs and mind the sheep ’Til he gets ‘em to the pasture While you folks in town all sleep. When it comes along to breakfast, Feller’s got an appetite And the salt pork and the taters And the beans taste out of sight, Then we hustle for the meadow And we hit her up ’til noon. When the dinner bell starts ringin’ And she never rings too soon. Half an hour and then we’re at it Pitching hay our very best And we never stop for nothin’ Till the sun sinks in the west. Then we’ve got to feed the horses Milk the cows and get the sheep And about the hour of nine we’re All in bed and fast asleep. Then we all get up at daylight And we start right in once more, Tell you what, a city feller Never’d think of gettin’ sore On his job, if he’d just travel Out here on some hot day And just stand around and look at Me and dad a-makin’ hay.