Posted on 06/18/2004 12:38:09 AM PDT by JustAmy
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Not to worry about me, I make a bee-line to the basement, great fruit cellar down there. LOL
I wonder too, Amy. Sometimes I think dementia and Alzeimers is a protective mechanism that the mind has to keep all the sad thoughts away. Who knows?
The information at the end of this poem was taken from a pamphlet published by the Hillsdale Historical Society and various sites on the internet. I grew up in Hillsdale.
OVER THE HILL TO THE POOR-HOUSE
by Will Carleton, 1897
Over the hill to the poor-house I'm trudgin' my weary way---
I, a woman of seventy, and only a trifle gray---
I, who am smart an' chipper, for all the years I've told,
As many another woman that's only half as old.
Over the hill to the poor-house---I can't quite make it clear!
Over the hill to the poor-house---it seems so horrid queer!
Many a step I've taken, a-toilin' to and fro,
But this is a sort of journey I never thought to go.
What is the use of heapin' on me a pauper's shame?
Am I lazy or crazy? am I blind or lame?
True, I am not so supple, nor yet so awful stout;
But charity ain't no favor, if one can live without.
I am ready and willin' an' anxious any day
To work for a decent livin' and pay my honest way;
For I can earn my victuals, an' more too, I'll be bound,
If anybody is willin' to only have me 'round.
Once I was young an' hand'some---I was, upon my soul---
Once my cheeks was roses, my eyes was black as coal;
And I can't remember, in them days, of hearin' people say,
For any kind of a reason, that I was in their way!
'Tain't no use of boastin' or talkin' over-free,
But many a house an' home was open then to me;
Many a han'some offer I had from likely men,
And nobody ever hinted that I was a burden then.
And when to John I was married, sure he was good and smart,
But he and all the neighbors would own I done my part;
For life was all before me, an' I was young an' strong,
And I worked my best an' smartest in tryin' to get along.
And so we worked together; and life was hard, but gay,
With now and then a baby to cheer us on our way.
Till we had half a dozen, an' all growed clean an' neat,An' went to school like others, an' had enough to eat.
An' so we worked for the child'rn, and raised 'em every one---
Worked for 'em summer and winter, just as we ought to've done;
Only perhaps we humored 'em, which some good folks condemn,
But every couple's own child'rn's a heap the dearest to them!
Strange how much we think of OUR blessed little ones!---
I'd have died for my daughters, and I'd have died for my sons.
And God He made that rule of love; but when we're old and gray
I've noticed it sometimes, somehow, fails to work the other way.
Stranger another thing: when our boys an' girls was grown,
And when, exceptin' Charley, they'd left us there alone,
When John he nearer an' nearer came, an' dearer seemed to be,
The Lord of Hosts, He came one day an' took him away from me!
Still I was bound to struggle, an' never cringe or fall---
Still I worked for Charley, for Charley was now my all;
And Charley was pretty good to me, with scarce a word or frown,
Till at last he went a-courtin', and brought a wife from town.
She was somewhat dressy, an' hadn't a pleasant smile---
She was quite conceity, and carried a heap o' style;
But if ever I tried to be friends, I did with her, I know;
But she was hard and haughty, an' we couldn't make it go.
She had an edication, and that was good for her,
But when she twitted me on mine, 'twas carryin' things too far,
An' I told her once, 'fore company, (an' it almost made her sick)
That I never swallowed a grammer, nor 'et a 'rithmetic.
So 'twas only a few days before the thing was done---
They was a family of themselves, and I another one.
And a very little cottage one family will do,
But I never have seen a mansion that was big enough for two.
An' I never could speak to suit her, never could please her eye,
An' it made me independent, an' then I didn't try.
But I was terribly humbled, an' felt it like a blow,
When Charley turned agin me, an' told me I could go!
I went to live with Susan, but Susan's house was small,
And she was always a-hintin' how snug it was for us all;
And what with her husband's sisters, and what with child'rn three,
'Twas easy to discover there wasn't room for me.
An' then I went with Thomas, the oldest son I've got:
For Thomas's buildings'd cover the half of an acre lot,
But all the child'rn was on me---I couldn't stand their sauce---
And Thomas said I needn't think I was comin' there to boss.
An' then I wrote to Rebecca, my girl who lives out West,
And to Isaac, not far from her---some twenty miles at best;
And one of 'em said 'twas too warm there for anyone so old,
And t'other had an opinion the climate was too cold.
So they have shirked and slighted me, an' shifted me about---
So they have well nigh soured me, an' wore my old heart out;
But still I've borne up pretty well, an' wasn't much put down,
Till Charley went to the poor-master, an' put me on the town!
Over the hill to the poor-house---my child'rn dear, good-bye!
Many a night I've watched you when only God was nigh;
And God'll judge between us; but I will al'ays pray
That you shall never suffer the half that I do to-day!
__________________________________________________
Will Carleton was born in a farmhouse near Hudson, Michigan on October 21, 1845. Carleton was the youngest of five kids. His family was a farming family and of the Methodist religion.
Will wrote his first poem at the age of 13 entitled "Dying Indian Chief." He quit school for one year in 1857, to help his father. He also tried to join the army when he was 16, but they wouldn't allow him to do so.
After being rejected from the Army, he decided to enroll at Hillsdale College in the summertime. His science courses weren't challenging enough for him, and he became angry and began to teach at Lang School. Fall came and Will decided to go back to Hillsdale College. He joined Alpha Kappa Phi which was a literary and debate team.
In 1868, he wrote the poem "Fax." In 1869, he gave the commencement speech that was very poetic and was entitled "Rifts of the Cloud." In 1871, he wrote his first book entitled "Poems" which was dedicated to his mom and dad. Will then became the editor and manager of the Hilldsdale Weekly Business paper. Later, he became the book reviewer and editor for the Detroit Advertiser and Tribune.
His most famous poem "Over the Hill to the Poorhouse" was published in the Toledo Blade, later in Harper's Weekly and then 3 months later Harper's published the famous poem, which also was made into a silent movie. He referred to this poem as "Bettsy." A lady by the name of Mrs.Emerson stepped forward and declared that "Bettsy" was hers and that he had stole it from her. Will bought room in the "Advertiser" and told his side of the story, he never heard from Mrs.Emerson again.
From 1873-1881 Harper's published 3 volumes of his poems called "Farm Series." In 1876, he moved to Boston and invited his mom along too. In 1882, he married Adora Hiles Goodweel and then moved to New York City. Between 1885-1892 "City Series" was published. Will then made a magazine entitled "Everywhere". "Everywhere" stayed in publication for 18 years.
On November 9, 1904 Adora died of a stroke. On October 26, 1907 he moved back to Michigan for a special homecoming. Thousands of people gathered at his home. Trains made special stops throughout the day so people could make a visit to Will. In December of 1912 Carleton began a lecture tour. Will came down with bronchitis, but didn't give up until, he had no other choice. Carleton developed bronchial pneumonia and then fell into a coma. Unfortunately, Will died the next day.
Papers nationwide covered his life story, and printed his poems, famous or not, they were most likely printed somewhere. When Will died, it became known that his net worth was less than $5,000. His funeral was at his home at 444 Greene Avenue, he is buried next to Adora in the Greenwood Cemetery.
Will Carleton was a very courageous, funny and caring man. He was extremely determined, as most should be able to tell. He contributed many things such as his wonderful poems, and he was looked up to and idolized by almost all. In Michigan there is a Will Carleton Day (October 21), that at one time teachers were required to either teach about him, visit something of his, or just read one of his poems in class.
Good morning, Rus.
The scripture lesson was appreciated this morning, as it is every morning. Thank you.
Hope you are having a Wonderful Weekend.
Good morning Amy!
LOL
Next time I hear about a tornado in your area, I'll picture you in the basement drinking a beer and watching and/or listening to a baseball game. ;~)
Hey .... Mayor.
I'm out of touch. What is your latest project? I checked your profile page the other day after Jacqui mentioned it. That kitchen is beautiful.
That's about right. LOL
;~)
I have a bunch more of the kitchen..
I am still working on that house. It has been on and off though.
I have been doing alot of work else where.
I just got finished rewiring the basement, she had the old fuse boxes.
I installed a new breaker box, those old houses weren't wired for modern appliances and computers.
I also ripped out all the old galvanized plumbing pipes and installed all new copper,
over 200 feet of new stuff.
Last week I did 2 hardwood floors and I have one more to do this coming week.
That is a very moving poem. For us who have lost our parents, we wish we could do just one more thing for them. Or tell them what we did yesterday.
My MIL died 7 months before her 100th birthday. She did not have Alzeimers but she very much lived in the past. She was aware of current things and recognized everyone but she would also talk about things that had happened 70 years before as though they had just happened yesterday.
Once when we went to visit her, she asked "Where is Nick" (her husband). We thought to appease her we would just say he is home. She asked "How did he get out of Heaven". After that if she asked about him we just said he is in Heaven. That seemed to satisfy her.
Thank you for sharing the poem by Will Carleton and also his bio.
WOW ..... I used to think I wanted an old house. It sounds like it would probably be easier to start new. Now .... if I lived in the East where houses are much older than the ones here, I would probably want to start with an old one.
The older houses have so much character.
I'm happy that you are doing something that is fun and that you enjoy!
You're and 'artist' in your own right.
Why Thanks !
The old houses in this area are beautiful, alot were built at the turn of the century.
lookie here at these two links.
http://woodcrafters.homestead.com/cabinetstwo.html
http://woodcrafters.homestead.com/LogCabin.html
That kitchen is absolutely beautiful.
It is interesting to see the log cabin being built.
Thank you for providing these two links.
For all the fathers out there, how many of these have you said?
Don't ask me, ask your mother. Were you raised in a barn? Close the door. You didn't beat me. I let you win. Big boys don't cry. Don't worry. It's only blood. Don't you know any normal boys? Now you listen to ME, Buster! I'll play catch after I read the paper. Coffee will stunt your growth. A little dirt never hurt anyone, just wipe it off. Get your elbows off the table. I told you, keep your eye on the ball. Who said life was supposed to be fair. Always say please and thank you. That way, you get more.
If you forget, you'll be grounded till the end of the world. You call that a haircut? "Hey" is for horses. This will hurt me a lot more than it hurts you. Turn off those lights. Do you think I am made of money? Don't give me any of your lip, young lady. You call that noise "music"? We're not lost, I'm just not sure where we are. No, we're not there yet. Shake it off. It's only pain. When I was your age, I treated MY father with respect. As long as you live under my roof, you'll live by my rules. I'll tell you why. Because I said so, that's why. Do what I say, not what I do.
Sit up straight! So you think you're smart, do you? What's so funny? Wipe that smile off your face. Young ladies perspire, they do not sweat. If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. C'mon, you throw like a girl. You want something to do? I'll give you something to do. You should visit more often. Your mother worries. This is your last warning. I'm not sleeping, I was watching that channel.
What keeps those jeans of yours from falling off? I'm not just talking to hear my own voice! Don't believe anything you hear and only half of what you see. What do you think I am a bank? What part of NO don't you understand? I don't care what other people are doing! I'm not everybody else's father! You're not leaving my house dressed like that! What will other parents think? Could those sleeves be any longer? You look like a bag lady!
Worrying about things you can't change is like a rocking chair... it gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you anywhere. Hurt much? I didn't feel a thing. I feel for you, but I can't reach you from here. If you're gonna be dumb, you've gotta be tough. Didn't your teacher teach you anything?! You can marry a rich guy just as easily as you can a poor guy.
It's hard to be good, and easy to be bad. I got my tongue wrapped around my eyetooth and couldn't see what I was saying. Men are like buses, just wait on the corner and another one will come along. Don't tell on anybody unless you tell on yourself first. Hey, did you hear me talking to you? I'm not watching television. I'm resting my eyes.
Don't use that tone with me! Am I talking to a brick wall? If I catch you doing that one more time, I'll... act your age. Two wrongs do not make a right. Wipe your feet! Enough is enough! Don't make me stop the car! You know you're always gonna be Daddy's little girl. What did I just get finished telling you?
I feel the same way, Meek. Hope you're having a great weekend.
Hugs.
Safety is not the absence of danger but the presence of God.
That's a marvelous quote, thanks.
LOL
I'm not a father, but I can hear myself saying a few of those.
Thanks, Victoria.
Hey ... (it's for horses) I hope you are having a nice weekend.
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