Waitin' Fer The Cat To Die

Lawzy! don't I rickollect      That-'air old swing in the lane!     Right and proper, I expect,      Old times can't come back again;     But I want to state, ef they     Could come back, and I could say     What my pick 'ud be, i jing!     I'd say, Gimme the old swing     'Nunder the old locus'-trees     On the old place, ef you please! -     Danglin' there with half-shet eye,     Waitin' fer the cat to die!     I'd say, Gimme the old gang      Of barefooted, hungry, lean,     Ornry boys you want to hang      When you're growed up twic't as mean!     The old gyarden-patch, the old     Truants, and the stuff we stol'd!     The old stompin'-groun', where we     Wore the grass off, wild and free     As the swoop of the old swing,     Where we ust to climb and cling,     And twist roun', and fight, and lie -     Waitin' fer the cat to die!     'Pears like I 'most allus could      Swing the highest of the crowd -     Jes sail up there tel I stood      Downside-up, and screech out loud, -     Ketch my breath, and jes drap back     Fer to let the old swing slack,     Yit my tow-head dippin' still     In the green boughs, and the chill     Up my backbone taperin' down,     With my shadder on the ground'     Slow and slower trailin' by -     Waitin' fer the cat to die!     Now my daughter's little Jane's      Got a kind o' baby-swing     On the porch, so's when it rains      She kin play there - little thing!     And I'd limped out t'other day     With my old cheer this-a-way,     Swingin' her and rockin' too,     Thinkin' how I ust to do     At her age, when suddently,     "Hey, Gran'pap!" she says to me,     "Why you rock so slow?" ... Says I,     "Waitin' fer the cat to die!"