Between the Barn and the Woodhouse.
Between the barn and the woodhouse,
Where oft old Jersey would stand,
I remember 'twas on this self-same spot
Where she kicked Elizabeth Ann.
I could hear the clang of the bucket,
And also poor Annie's refrain,
And when the family reached her,
She was writhing and groaning with pain.
Mother stooped dawn to caress her
As she lay there stunned on the ground,
And our big, simple minded brother
Thought he should examine the wound.
Without halt or hesitation,
He dropped to his knees in the dirt;
Although she lay stunned and bleeding,
He asked her where she was hurt.
Then Annie, in a half sitting posture,
While resting on mother's arm,
Feebly responded to brother,
"Between the woodhouse and barn."