From the Evening Star, November 17, 1912. By Philander Johnson. We’re feelin’ purty cheerful down to Pohick on the Crick. At first the town was lookin’ fur some unexpected trick Such as Fate likes to play on folks that gets well satisfied In order to prevent ‘em from the ways of too much pride. We thought the election was a-goin’ to turn things loose An’ leave us in a state where nothin’ wasn’t any use. Each said that if his party was defeated in the fall Us ordinary people wouldn’t stand no show at all. But there isn’t any sign of an excuse to be forlorn. The stock ain’t lost their appetites fur oats an’ hay an’ corn., An’ people keep on eatin’ jest as in the other days, Creatin’ a demand fur everything thet we kin raise. An’ I’ve noticed it was much the same in ‘lections of the past. We always got a skeer which proved without a cause, at last. Although a governmental change sets rumors flyin’ thick, We keep on goin’ jes’ the same at Pohick on the Crick.