O big old tree, so tall an' fine,
Where all us childern swings an' plays,
Though neighbers says you're on the line
Between Pa's house an' Mr. Gray's,--
Us childern used to almost fuss,
Old Tree, about you when we 'd play.--
We'd argy you belonged to _us_,
An' them Gray-kids the other way!
Till _Elsie_, one time _she_ wuz here
An' playin' wiv us--Don't you mind,
Old Mister Tree?--an' purty near
She scolded us the hardest kind
Fer quar'llin' 'bout you thataway,
An' say _she'll_ find--ef we'll keep still--
Whose tree you air _fer shore_, she say,
An' settle it _fer good_, she will!
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[Illustration: "THE OLD TREE SAYS HE'S ALL OUR TREE."]
* * * * *
So all keep still: An' nen she gone
An' pat the Old Tree, an' says she,--
"Whose air you, Tree?" an' nen let on
Like she's a-list'nin' to the Tree,--
An' nen she say, "It's settled,--'cause
The Old Tree says he's _all_ our tree--
His _trunk_ belongs to bofe your Pas,
But _shade_ belongs to you an' me."
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