 Betsy and I are out, by Will Carlton. Read for LibriVox.org by Andrea Fiori. Draw up the paper's lawyer and make them good in stout, for things at home are crossways and Betsy and I are out. We who have worked together so long as man and wife must pull in single harness for the rest of our natural life. What is the matter, say you? I swan it's hard to tell. Most of the years behind us we've passed by very well. I have no other woman, she has no other man. Only we've lived together as long as we ever can. So I have talked with Betsy, and Betsy has talked with me, and so we've agreed together that we can't never agree. Not that we've catched each other in any terrible crime, we've been a-gathering this for years, a little at a time. There was a stock of temper we both had for a start, although we never suspected to take us too apart. I had my various failings, bread in the flesh and bone, and Betsy, like all good women, had a temper of her own. The first thing I remember whereon we disagreed, was something concerning heaven, a difference in our creed. We argued the thing at breakfast, we argued the thing at tea, and the more we argued the question, the more we didn't agree. And the next that I remember was when we lost a cow. She kicked the bucket for certain, the question was only, how? I held my own opinion and Betsy another had, and when we were done a-talking, we both of us was mad. And the next that I remember, it started in a joke, but full for a week it lasted, and neither of us spoke. And the next was when I scolded because she broke a bowl, and she said I was mean and stingy, and hadn't any soul. And so that bowl kept pouring dissensions in our cup, and so that blame-cow critter was always coming up, and so that heaven we argued no nearer to us got, but it gave us a taste of something a thousand times as hot. And so the thing kept working, and all the self-same way, always something to argue, and something sharp to say. And down on us came the neighbors, a couple dozen strong, and lent their kindest service for to help the thing along. And there has been days together, and many a weary week. We was both of us cross and spunky, and both too proud to speak. And I have been thinking and thinking, the whole of the winter and fall, if I can't live kind with a woman, why then I won't at all. And so I have talked with Betsy, and Betsy has talked with me, and we have agreed together that we can't never agree. And what is hers shall be hers, and what is mine shall be mine, and I'll put it in the agreement, and take it to her to sign. Right on the paper, lawyer, the very first paragraph of all the farm and livestock that she shall get her half, for she has helped to earn it through many a weary day, and it's nothing more than justice that Betsy has her pay. Give her the house and homestead a man can thrive in Rome, but women are skeery critters, unless they have a home. And I have always determined, and never failed to say, that Betsy should never want a home if I was taken away. There is a little hard money, that's drawn tolerable pay, a couple of hundred dollars laid by for a rainy day. Safe in the hands of good men, and easy to get at. Put in another clause there, and give her half of that. Yes, I see you smile, sir, at my given her so much. Yes, divorce is cheap, sir, but I take no stock in such. True and fair I married her when she was blithe and young. And Betsy was always good to me, except in with her tongue. Once when I was young as you, and not so smart perhaps, to me she mittened a lawyer, and several other chaps. And all of them was flustered and fairly taken down, and I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town. Once when I had a fever, I won't forget it soon, I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon. Never an hour went by me when she was out of sight. She nursed me true and tender, and stuck to me day and night. And if ever a house was tidy, and if ever a kitchen clean, her house and kitchen was tidy as any I'd ever seen. And I don't complain of Betsy or any of her acts, except in one we've quarreled, and told each other facts. So draw up the paper, lawyer, and I'll go home to-night, and read the agreement to her, and see if it's all right. And then, in the morning, I'll sell to a trademan I know, and kiss the child that was left to us, and out in the world I'll go. And one thing put in the paper, that first to me didn't occur, that when I am dead at last she'll bring me back to her. And lay me under the maples I planted years ago, when she and I was happy before we quarreled so. And when she dies I wish that she would be laid by me, and lying together in silence, perhaps we will agree. And if ever we meet in heaven I wouldn't think it queer, if we loved each other the better, because we quarreled here. Draw up the paper, lawyer, and make them good and stout, for things at home are crossways, and Betsy and I are out. We, who have worked together so long as man and wife, must pull in single harness for the rest of our natural life. What is the matter, say you? I swan it's hard to tell. Most of the years behind us we've passed by very well. I have no other woman, she has no other man, only we've lived together as long as we ever can. So I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me, and so we've agreed together that we can't never agree. Not that we've catched each other in any terrible crime, we've been a-gathering this for years a little at a time. There was a stock of temper we both had for a start, although we never suspected to take us too apart. I had my various failings spread in the flesh and bone, and Betsy, like all good women, had a temper of her own. The first thing I remember, whereon we disagreed, was something concerning heaven, a difference in our creed. We argued the thing at breakfast, we argued the thing at tea, and the more we argued the question the more we didn't agree. And the next that I remember was when we lost a cow, she had kicked the bucket for certain, the question was only how. I held my own opinion, and Betsy and other had, and when we were done a-talking, we both of us was mad. And the next that I remember it started in a joke, but for a full week it lasted and neither of us spoke. And the next was when I scolded because she broke a bowl, and she said I was mean and stingy and hadn't any soul. And so that bowl kept pouring dissensions in our cup, and so that blameless cow critter was always coming up, and so that heaven we argued no nearer to us got, but it gave us a taste of something a thousand times as hot. And so the thing kept working, and all the selfsame way. Always something to argue, and something sharp to say. And down on us came the neighbors, a couple dozen strong, and let their kind of service for the help of the thing along. And there has been days together, and many a weary week, when both of us was cross and spunky and both too proud to speak, and I have been thinking and thinking the whole of the winter and fall, if I can't live with a woman, why, then I won't at all. And so I have talked with Betsy, and Betsy has talked with me, and we've agreed together that we can't never agree, and what is her shall be hers, and what is mine shall be mine, and I'll put it in the agreement, and take it to her to sign. Right on the paper lawyer, the very first paragraph of all the farm and livestock that she shall have her half, for she has helped to earn it through many a weary day, and it's nothing more than justice that Betsy has her pay. Give her the house and homestead, a man can thrive in Rome, but women are scary creatures unless they have a home, and I have always determined, and never failed to say, that Betsy never should want a home if I was taken away. There is a little hard money that's drawn tolerable pay, a couple of hundred dollars, laid by for a rainy day, safe in the hands of good men and easy to get at. Put in another clause there, and give her half of that. Yes, I see you smile, sir, at my given her so much. Yes, divorce is cheap, sir, but I take no stock in such. True and fair I married her when she was blithe and young, and Betsy was always good to me, except in with her tongue. Once, when I was young as you, and not so smart perhaps, for me she mitten the lawyer, and several other chaps. All of them was flustered and fairly taken down, and I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town. Once, when I had a fever, I won't forget it soon, I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon. Never an hour went by me when she was out of sight, she nursed me true and tender, and stuck to me day and night. And, if ever a house was tidy and ever a kitchen clean, her house and kitchen was tidy as any I ever seen. And I don't complain of Betsy or of any of her acts, except in when we've quarreled and told each other facts. So drop the paper lawyer, and I'll go home to-night and read the agreement to her, and see if it's all right, and then in the morning I'll sell to a trading man I know, and kiss the child that was left to us, and out in the world I'll go. And one thing put in the paper, that first to me didn't occur, that when I am dead at last she'll bring me back to her, and lay me under the maples I planted years ago, when she and I was happy, before we quarreled so, and when she dies I wish that she would be laid by me. And, lying together in silence, perhaps we will agree, and if ever we meet in heaven I wouldn't think it queer if we loved each other the better, because we quarreled here. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Betsy and I are out by Will Carlton. Read for Libervox.org by David Lawrence. April 1st, 2009, in Brampton, Ontario. Draw up the paper's lawyer, and make him good and stout, for things at home are crossways, and Betsy and I are out. We who have worked together so long as man and wife must pull in single harness for the rest of our natural life. What does the matter say you? I swan it's hard to tell. Most of the years behind us we've passed by very well. I have no other woman. She has no other man. Only we live together as long as we ever can. So I have talked with Betsy, and Betsy has talked with me, and so we've agreed together that we can't never agree. Not that we've cashed each other in any terrible crime. We've been a gather in this for years, a little at a time. There was a stalk of temper we both had for a start, although we never suspected to take us too apart. I had my various failings, bread in the flesh and bone, and Betsy, like all good women, had a temper of her own. The first thing I remember, whereon we disagreed, was something concerning heaven, a difference in our creed. We argued the thing at breakfast, we argued the thing at tea, and the more we argued the question, the more we didn't agree. And the next thing I remember was when we lost a cow. She had kicked the bucket for certain. The question was only, how? I held my own opinion, and Betsy another had, and when we were done a talking, both of us was mad. And the next that I remember, it started in a joke, but full for a week it lasted, and neither of us spoke. And the next was when I scolded, because she broke a bowl. And she said I was mean and stingy, and hadn't any soul. And so that bowl kept pouring dissensions in our cup. And so that blamed cow critter was always a coming up. And so that heaven we argued no nearer to us got, but it gave us a taste of something a thousand times as hot. And so the thing kept working, and all the selfsame way, always something to argue, and something sharp to say. And down on us came the neighbors, a couple dozen strong, and lent their kind to service, for to help the thing along. And there has been days together, and many a weary week, we was both of us cross and spunky, and both too proud to speak. And I have been thinking and thinking the whole of the winter and fall. If I can't live kind with a woman, why then I won't at all. So I have talked with Betsy, and Betsy has talked with me, and we have agreed together that we can't never agree. And what is hers shall be hers, and what is mine shall be mine, and I'll put it in the agreement and take it to her to sign. Right on that paper, lawyer, the very first paragraph of all the farm and livestock that she shall have her half, for she has helped to earn it through many a weary day, and it's nothing more than justice that Betsy has her pay. Give her the house and homestead, a man can thrive in Rome, but women are skeery critters unless they have a home. And I have always determined, and never failed to say that Betsy should never want a home if I was taken away. There is a little hard money that's drawn, tolerable pay, a couple of hundred dollars laid by for a rainy day, safe in the hands of good men and easy to get at. Put in another clause there and give her half of that. Yes, I see you smile, sir, at my given her so much. Yes, divorce is cheap, sir, but I take no stock in such. True and fair I married her when she was blithe and young, and Betsy was always good to me, with her tongue. Once when I was young as you, and not so smart perhaps, for me she mitten'd a lawyer and several other chaps, and all of them was flustered and fairly taken down, and I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town. Once when I had a fever, I won't forget it soon, I was hot as a basted turkey, and crazy as a loon. Never an hour went by me when she was out of sight, she nursed me true and tender, and stuck to me day and night. And if ever a house was tidy, and ever a kitchen clean, her house and kitchen was tidy as any I ever seen. And I don't complain of Betsy or any ever acts, except in when we've quarreled and told each other facts. So draw up the paper lawyer, and I'll go home to-night, and read the agreement to her, and see if it's all right. And then, in the morning, I'll sell to a trading man, I know, and kiss the child that was left to us, and out in the world I'll go. And one thing put in the paper that first to me didn't occur. That when I am dead, at last she'll bring me back to her, and lay me under the maples I planted years ago, when she and I was happy before we quarreled so. And when she dies, I wish that she would be laid by me, and lie in together in silence, perhaps we would agree. And if we ever meet in heaven, I wouldn't think it queer if we loved each other the better, because we quarreled here. In the poem, this recording is in the public domain. Betsy and I are out, by Will Carlton, read for Librevox.org by Eduardo Solis. Draw up the paper lawyer, and make them good and stout, for things at home are crossways, and Betsy and I are out. We who have worked together, so long as man and wife, must pull and single harness for the rest of our natural life. What is the matter, say you, I swan it's hard to tell. Most of the years behind us, we've passed by very well. I have no other woman, she has no other man. Only we've lived together as long as we ever can. So I have talked with Betsy, and Betsy has talked with me. And so we've agreed together that we can't never agree. Not that we've catched each other in any terrible crime. We've been to gathering this for years a little at a time. There was a stock of temper we both had for a start, although we never suspected it would take us too apart. I had my various failings bred in the flesh and bone, and Betsy like all good women had a temper of her own. The first thing I remember, whereon we disagreed, was something concerning heaven, a difference in our creed. We argued the thing at breakfast, we argued the thing at tea. And the more we argued the question, the more we didn't agree. And the next that I remember was when we lost a cow. She had kicked the bucket for certain. The question was only how? I held my own opinion, and Betsy another had. And when we were done a talking, we both of us was mad. And the next that I remember, it started in a joke. But full a week it lasted, and neither of us spoke. And the next was when I scolded her because she broke a bowl, and she said I was mean and stingy and hadn't any soul. And so that bowl kept pouring dissensions in our cup, and so that blame cow critter was always a coming up. And so that heaven we argued, no nearer to us got, but it gave us a taste of something a thousand times as hot. And so the thing kept working in all the self-same way, always something to arg, and something sharp to say. And down on us came the neighbors, a couple dozen strong, and left their kind of service for to help the thing along. And there has been days together, and many a weary week, we was both of us cross and spunky, and both too proud to speak. And I have been thinking and thinking the whole of the winter and fall, if I can't live kind with a woman, why then I won't at all. And so I have talked with Betsy, and Betsy has talked with me, and we have agreed together that we can't never agree. And what is her shall be hers, and what is my shall be mine, and I'll put it in the agreement and take it to her to sign. Right on the paper, lawyer, the very first paragraph, of all the farm and livestock that she shall have her half. For she has helped to earn it through many a weary day, and it's nothing more than justice that Betsy has her pay. Give her the home and homestead a man can thrive in Rome, but women are skeery critters unless they have a home. And I have always determined and never failed to say that Betsy never should want a home if I was taken away. There is a little hard money that's drawing tolerable pay, a couple of hundred dollars laid by for a rainy day, safe in the hands of good men and easy to get at. Put in another clause there and give her half of that. Yes, I see you smile, sir, at my giving her so much. Yes, divorce is cheap, sir, but I take no stock in such. True and fair I married her when she was bliff and young, and Betsy was always good to me, except then with her tongue. Once when I was young as you and not so smart perhaps, for me she meant in the lawyer and several other chaps. And all of them was flustered and fairly taken down, and I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town. Once when I had a fever, I won't forget it soon. I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon. Never an hour went by me when she was out of sight. She nursed me true and tender and stuck to me day and night. And if her house was tidy and never a kitchen clean, her house and kitchen was tidy as any I ever seen. And I don't complain of Betsy or any of her acts, except in when we quarreled and told each other facts. So drop the paper lawyer and I'll go home tonight and read the agreement to her and see if it's all right. And then in the morning I'll sell to a traded man I know and kiss the chow that was left to us and out in the world I'll go. And one thing put into paper that first to me didn't occur, that when I am dead at last, she'll bring me back to her and lay me under the maples I planted years ago when she and I was happy before we quarreled so. And when she dies, I wish that she would be laid by me and lying together in silence, perhaps we will agree. And if ever we meet in heaven, I wouldn't think it queer if we loved each other the better because we quarreled here. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Betsy and I are out by Will Carlton. Read for LibriVox.org by Leanne Howlett. Draw up the paper's lawyer and make them good and stout for things at home or crossways and Betsy and I are out. We who have worked together so long as man and wife must pull and single harness for the rest of our natural life. What does the matter say you? I swan it's hard to tell. Most of the years behind us we've passed by very well. I have no other woman, she has no other man, only we've lived together as long as we ever can. So I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me and so we've agreed together that we can't never agree. Not that we've catched each other in any terrible crime. We've been in gathering this for years, a little at a time. There was a stock of temper we both had for a start, although we never suspected would take us too apart. I had my various failings, bread in the flesh and bone, and Betsy, like all good women, had a temper of her own. The first thing I remember, whereon we disagreed, was something concerning heaven, a difference in our creed. We argued the thing at breakfast, we argued the thing at tea, and the more we argued the question the more we didn't agree. And the next that I remember was when we lost a cow. She had kicked the bucket for certain. The question was only, how? I held my own opinion and Betsy another had, and when we were done a talking we both of us was mad. And the next that I remember it started in a joke, but full for a week it lasted and neither of us spoke. And the next was when I scolded because she broke a bowl and she said I was mean and stingy and hadn't any soul. And so that bowl I kept pouring dissensions in our cup, and so that blamed cow critter was always a coming up, and so that heaven we argued no nearer to us got, but gave us a taste of something a thousand times as hot. And so the thing kept working in all the self same way, always something to arg and something sharp to say. And down on us came the neighbors a couple dozen strong and lent their kindest service for to help the thing along. And there has been days together and many a weary week. We was both of us cross and spunky and both too proud to speak. And I have been thinking and thinking the whole of the winter and fall. If I can't live kind with a woman, why then I won't at all. And so I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me and we have agreed together that we can't never agree. And what is hers shall be hers and what is mine shall be mine. And I'll put it in the agreement and take it to her to sign. Right on the paper lawyer, the very first paragraph of all the farm and livestock that she shall have her half for she has helped to earn it through many a weary day and it's nothing more than justice that Betsy has her pay. Give her the house and homestead. A man can thrive in Rome but women are scary quitters unless they have a home. And I have always determined and never failed to say that Betsy never should want a home if I was taken away. There is a little hard money that's drawn tolerable pay. A couple of hundred dollars laid by for a rainy day. Safe in the hands of good men and easy to get at. Put in another clause there and give her half of that. Yes, I see you smile, sir, at my giving her so much. Yes, divorce is cheap, sir, but I take no stock in such. True and fair I married her when she was blithe and young and Betsy was always good to me except in with her tongue. Once when I was young as you and not so smart perhaps, for me she minted a lawyer and several other chaps and all of them was flustered and fairly taken down and I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town. Once when I had a fever, I won't forget it soon. I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon. Never an hour went by me when she was out of sight. She nursed me true and tender and stuck to me day and night. And if ever a house was tidy and ever a kitchen clean her house and kitchen was tidy as any I ever seen. And I don't complain of Betsy or any of her acts except in when we've curled and told each other facts. So draw up the paper lawyer and I'll go home tonight and read the agreement to her and see if it's all right. And then in the morning I'll sell to a trading man I know and kiss the child that was left to us and out in the world I'll go. And one thing put in the paper that first to me didn't occur that when I am dead at last she'll bring me back to her and lay me under the maples I planted years ago when she and I was happy before we quarreled so. And when she dies I wish that she would be laid by me and lying together in silence perhaps we will agree. And if ever we meet in heaven I wouldn't think it queer if we loved each other the better because we've quarreled here. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Betsy and I are out by Will Colton. Read for LibriVox.org. Draw up the papers lawyer and make them good and stout for things at home are crossways and Betsy and I are out. We who have worked together so long as man and wife must pull in single harness for the rest of our natural life. What is the matter say you I swear it's hard to tell. Most of the years behind us we've passed by very well. I have no other woman she has no other man only we've lived together as long as we ever can. So I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me and so we've agreed together that we can't never agree. Not that we've catch each other in any terrible crime. We've been a gathering this for years, a little at a time. There was a stock of temper we both had first start. Although we never suspected to take us to a part, I had my various failings bred in the flesh and bone and Betsy like all good women had a temper of her own. The first thing I remember were on we disagreed was something concerning heaven, a difference in our creed. We argued the thing at breakfast, we argued the thing at tea and the more we argued the question the more we didn't agree. And the next that I remember was when we lost a cow. She had kicked the bucket for certain. The question was only how? I held my own opinion and Betsy another had and when we were done talking we both of us was mad. And the next that I remember it started as a joke but full for a week it lasted and neither of us spoke. And the next was when I scolded because she broke a bowl. And she said I was mean and stingy and hadn't any soul and so that bowl kept pouring dissensions in our cup so that blamed cow critter was always a coming up and so that heaven we argued no nearer to us gods. But it gave us a taste of something a thousand times as hot and so the thing kept working and all the self same way. Always something to argue and something sharp to say and down on us came the neighbors a couple dozen strong and lent their kind of service or to help the thing along and there has been days together and many a weary week we was both of us cross and spunky and both too proud to speak. And I have been thinking and thinking the whole of the winter and fall. If I can't live kind with a woman why then I won't at all and so I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me and we have agreed together that we can't never agree and what is hers shall be hers and what is mine shall be mine and I will put it in the agreement and take it to her to sign. Right on the paper liar the very first paragraph of all the farm in livestock that she shall have her half for she has helped to earn it through many a weary day and it's nothing more than justice that Betsy has her pay. Give her the house and homestead. A man can thrive and roam but women are scary critters unless they have a home. And I have always determined and never failed to say that Betsy never should want a home if I was taken away. There is a little hard money that's drawing tolerable pay a couple of hundred dollars lit by for a rainy day safe in the hands of good men and easy to get at. Put in another clause there and give her half of that. Yes, I see you smile sir at my given her so much. Yes, the voice is cheap sir but I take no stock in such. True and fair I married her when she was blithe and young and Betsy was also good to me except in with her tongue. Once when I was young as you and not so smart perhaps for me she mittened a lawyer and several other chaps and all of them was flustered and fairly taken down and I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town. Once when I had a fever I won't forget it soon. I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon. Never an hour went by me when she was out of sight. She nursed me true and tender and stuck to me day and night. If ever a house was tidy if ever a kitchen clean her house and kitchen was tidy as any I ever seen and I don't complain of Betsy or any of her acts accepting when we've hurled and told each other facts. So draw up the paper lawyer and I'll go home tonight and read the agreement to her and see if it's all right. And then in the morning I'll sell to a trading man I know and kiss the child that was left to us and out in the world I'll go. And one thing put in the paper that first to me didn't occur that when I am dead at last she'll bring me back to her and lay me under the maples I planted years ago when she and I was happy before we quarreled so and when she dies I wish that she would be laid by me and lying together in silence perhaps we will agree and if ever we meet in heaven I wouldn't think it queer if we loved each other the better because we quarreled here. And of poem this recording is in the public domain. Betsy and I are out by Will Carleton read for LibroHawks.org by Lucy Perry. Draw up the paper's lawyer and make him good and stout for things at home are crossways and Betsy and I are out. We who have worked together so long as man and wife must pull in single harness for the rest of our natural life. What is the matter say you? I swan it's hard to tell. Most of the years behind us we've passed by very well. I have no other woman, she has no other man only we've lived together as long as we ever can. So I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me and so we've agreed together that we can't never agree. Not that we've catch each other in any terrible crime we've been gathering this for years a little at a time. There was a stock of temper we both had for a start although we never suspected it would take us two apart. I had my various failings, bread and flesh and bone and Betsy like all good women had a temper of her own. The first thing I remember where on we disagreed was something concerning heaven, a difference in our creed. We argued the thing at breakfast we argued the thing at tea and the more we argued the question the more we didn't agree. And the next that I remember was when we lost a cow she had kicked the bucket for certain the question was only how. I held my own opinion and Betsy another had and when we were done talking we both of us was mad. And the next thing that I remember it started in a joke but full for a week it lasted and neither of us spoke and the next was when I scolded because she broke a bowl and she said I was mean and stingy and hadn't any soul and so that bowl kept pouring dissensions in our cup and so that blamed cow critter was always a coming up and so that heaven we argued no nearer to us got but it gave us a taste of something a thousand times as hot and so the thing kept working and all the self same way always something to argue and something sharp to say and down on us came the neighbours a couple dozen strong and let their kindest service for to help the thing along and there has been days together and many a weary week where he was both of us cross and spunky and both too proud to speak and I have been thinking and thinking the whole of the winter and fall if I can't live kind with a woman why then I won't at all and so I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me and we have agreed together that we can't never agree and what is her shall be hers and what is mine shall be mine and I'll put it in the agreement and take it to her to sign. Right on the paper lawyer the very first paragraph of all the farm and livestock that she shall have her half for she has helped to earn it through many a weary day and it's nothing more than justice that Betsy has her pay give her the house and homestead a man can thrive in Rome but women are scary critters unless they have a home and I have always determined and never fail to say that Betsy should never want a home if I was taken away there is a little hard money that's drawn in tolerable pay a couple of hundred dollars laid by for a rainy day safe in the hands of good men and easy to get at put in another clause there and give her half of that yes I see you smile sir at my giving her so much yes divorce is cheap sir but I take no stock in such true and fair I married her when she was blithe and young and Betsy was always good to me except him with her tongue once when I was young as you and not so smart perhaps for me she mittened a lawyer and several other chaps and all of them was flustered and fairly taken down and I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town once when I had a fever I won't forget it soon I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon never an hour went by me when she was out of sight she nursed me true and tender and stuck to me day and night and if ever a house was tidy and ever a kitchen clean her house and kitchen was tidy as any I ever seen and I don't complain of Betsy or any of her acts except in when we've quarrelled and told each other facts so draw up the paper lawyer and I'll go home tonight and read the agreement to her and see if it's all right and then in the morning I'll sell to a trading man I know and kiss the child that was left to us and out in the world I'll go and one thing put in the paper that first to me didn't occur that when I am dead at last she'll bring me back to her and lay me under the maples I planted years ago when she and I were happy before we quarrelled so and when she dies I wish that she would be laid by me and lying together in silence perhaps we will agree and if we ever meet in heaven I wouldn't think it queer if we loved each other better because we quarrelled here end of poem this recording is in the public domain Betsy and I are out by Will Carleton read for Librebox.org by Mark Smith draw up the paper's lawyer and make him good in stout for things at home or crossways and Betsy and I are out we who've worked together so long as man and wife must pull in single harness for the rest of our natural life what's the matter say you I swan it's hard to tell most of the years behind us we've passed by very well I have no other woman she has no other man only we've lived together as long as we ever can so I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me and so we've agreed together that we can't never agree not that we've catched each other in any terrible crime we've been a gathering this free years a little at a time there was a stock of temper we both had for a start although we never suspected would take us too apart I had my various failings bred in the flesh and bone and Betsy like all good women had a temper of her own the first thing I remember where on we disagreed was something concerning heaven a difference in our creed we argued the thing at breakfast we argued the thing at tea and the more we argued the question the more we didn't agree and the next that I remember was when we lost a cow she had kicked the bucket for certain the question was only how I held my own opinion and Betsy and other had and when we were done a talking we both of us was mad and the next that I remember it started in a joke but full for a week it lasted and neither of us spoke and the next was when I scolded because she broke a bowl and she said I was mean and stingy and hadn't any soul and so that bowl kept pouring dissensions in our cup and so that blamed cow critter was always a coming up and so that heaven we argued no nearer to us got but it gave us a taste of something a thousand times as hot and so the thing kept working and all the self same way always something to argue and something sharp to say and down on us came the neighbors a couple dozen strong and lent their kind of service for to help the thing along and there has been days together and many a weary week we was both of us cross and spunky and both too proud to speak and I have been thinking and thinking the whole of the winter and fall if I can't live kind with a woman why then I won't at all and so I have talked with Betsy and Betsy is talked with me and we have agreed together that we can't never agree and what is hers shall be hers and what is mine shall be mine and I'll put it in the agreement and take it to her to sign right on the paper lawyer the very first paragraph of all the farm and livestock that she shall have her half for she has helped to earn it through many a weary day and it's nothing more than justice that Betsy has her pay give her the house and homestead a man can thrive in Rome but women are scary critters unless they have a home and I have always determined and never failed to say that Betsy never should want a home if I was taken away there is a little hard money that's drawn tolerable pay a couple hundred dollars laid by for a rainy day save from the hands of good men and easy to get at put in another clause there and give her half of that yes I see you smile sir at my given her so much yes divorce is cheap sir but I take no stock and such true and fair I married her when she was blithe and young and Betsy was always good to me except and with her tongue once when I was young as you and not so smart perhaps for me she mitten the lawyer and several other chaps and all of them was flustered and fairly taken down and I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town once when I had a fever I won't forget it soon I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon never an hour went by me when she was out of sight she nursed me true and tender and stuck to me day and night and if ever a house was tidy and ever a kitchen clean her house and kitchen was tidy as any I ever seen and I don't complain of Betsy or any of her acts except in when we've quarreled and told each other facts so drop the paper lawyer and I'll go home tonight and read the agreement to her and see if it's all right and then in the morning I'll sell to a trading man I know and kiss the child that was left to us and out in the world I'll go and one thing put in the paper that first to me didn't occur that when I am dead at last she'll bring me back to her and lay me under the maples I planted years ago when she and I was happy before we quarreled so and when she dies I wish that she would be laid by me and lying together in silence perhaps we will agree and if ever we meet in heaven I wouldn't think it queer if we loved each other the better because we quarreled here end of poem this recording is in the public domain Betsy and I are out by Will Carlton read for LibriVox.org by Raven notation draw up the papers lawyer and make him good and stout the things at home are crossways and Betsy and I are out we who have worked together so long as man and wife must pull in single harness for the rest of our natural life what is the matter you say you I swan it's hard to tell most of the years behind us we've passed by very well I have no other woman she has no other man only we've lived together as long as we ever can so I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me and so we've agreed together that we can never agree not that we've catched each other in any terrible crime we've been gathering this for years a little at a time there was a stock of temper we both had for a start although we never suspected it would take us two apart I had my various failings read in the flesh and bone and Betsy like all good women had a temper of her own the first thing I remember where on we disagreed was something concerning heaven a difference in our creed we argued the thing at breakfast we argued the thing at tea and the more we argued the question no more we didn't agree and the next that I remember was when we lost a cow she had kicked the bucket for certain the question was only how I held my own opinion and Betsy another had and when we were done a talking we both of us was mad and the next that I remember it started and a joke but full for a week it lasted and neither of us spoke and the next was when I scolded because she broke a bowl and she said I was mean and stingy and hadn't any soul and so that bowl kept pouring dissensions in our cup and so that blame care critter was always a coming up and so that heaven we argued no nearest to us got but it gave us a taste of something a thousand times as hot and so the thing kept working and all the self same way always something to argue and something sharp to say and down on us came the neighbors a couple dozen strong and lent their kindest service for to help the thing along and there has been days together and many a weary week we was both of us cross and spunky and both too proud to speak and I have been thinking and thinking the whole of the winter and fall if I can't live kind with a woman why then I won't at all and so I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me and we have agreed together that we can't never agree and what is hers shall be hers and what is mine shall be mine and I'll put it in the arrangement and take it to her to sign right on the paper lawyer the very first paragraph of all the farm and livestock that she shall have her half for she has helped to earn it through many a weary day and it's nothing more than justice that Betsy has her pay give her the house and homestead a man can thrive in Rome but women are scary critters unless they have a home and I have always determined and never failed to say that Betsy should never want a home if I was taken away there is a little hard money that's drawing tolerable pay a couple of hundred dollars laid by for a rainy day safe in the hands of good men and easy to get at put in another clause there and give a half of that yes I see you smile sir at my giving her so much yes divorce is cheap sir but I take no stock in such true and fair I married her when she was blithe and young and Betsy was always good to me accepting with her tongue once when I was young as you and not so smart perhaps for me she emitting the lawyer and several other chaps and all of them was flustered and fairly taken down and I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town once when I had a fever I won't forget it soon I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon never an hour went by me when she was out of sight she nursed me true and tender and stuck to me day and night and if ever a house was tidy and ever a kitchen clean her house and kitchen was tidy as any I ever seen and I don't complain of Betsy or any of her acts accepting when we quarreled and told each other facts so draw up the paper lawyer and I'll go home tonight and read the agreement to her and see if it's all right and then in the morning I'll sell to a trading man I know and kiss the child that was left to us and out in the world I'll go and one thing put in the paper that first to me didn't occur but when I am dead at last she'll bring me back to her and lay me under the maples I planted years ago when she and I was happy before we quarrelled so and when she dies I wish that she would be laid by me and lying together in silence perhaps we will agree and if we ever meet in heaven I wouldn't think it queer if we loved each other the better because we quarrelled here end of poem this recording is in the public domain Betsy and I are out by Will Carton read for LibriVox.org by Secrets draw up the paper's lawyer and make him good and stout for things at home are crossways and Betsy and I are out we who have worked together so long as man and wife must pull in single harness for the rest of our natural life what is the matter say you I swan it's hard to tell most of the years behind us we've passed by very well I have no other woman and she has no other man only we've lived together as long as we ever can so I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me and so we've agreed together that we can't never agree not that we've catched each other out in any terrible crime we've been a gathering this for years a little at a time there was a stock of temper we both had for a start although we never suspected it would take us two apart I had my various failings bread in the flesh and bone and Betsy like all good women had a temper of her own the first thing I remember were on we disagreed was something concerning heaven a difference in our creed we argued the thing at breakfast and we argued the thing at tea and the more we argued the question the more we didn't agree and the next thing I remember was when we lost a cow she'd kicked the bucket for certain and the question was only how I held my own opinion and Betsy another had and when we were done a talking we both of us was mad and the next that I remember I started in a joke but fall for a week it lasted and neither of us spoke and the next was when I scolded because she broke a bowl and she said I was mean and stingy and hadn't any soul and so that bowl kept pouring dissensions in our cup and so that blamed cow critter was always a coming up and so that heaven we argued no nearer to us got but it gave us a taste of something a thousand times as hot and so the thing kept working and all the self same way always something to argue and something sharp to say and down on us came the neighbors a couple dozen strong and lent their kindest service for to help the thing along and then there have been days together and many a weary week when was both of us cross and spunky and both too proud to speak and I have been thinking and thinking the whole of the winter and fall if I can't live kind with a woman why then I won't at all and so I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me and we have agreed together that we can't never agree and what is hers shall be hers and what is mine shall be mine and I'll put it in the agreement and take it to her to sign right on the paper lawyer the very first paragraph of all the farm and livestock that she shall have her half for she has helped earn it through many a weary day and it's nothing more than justice that Betsy has her pay give her the house and homestead a man can thrive in Rome but women are scary critters unless they have a home and I have always determined and never failed to say that Betsy should never want a home if I was taken away there is a little hard money that's drawing torrible pay a couple of hundred dollars laid by for a rainy day safe in the hands of good men and easy to get at put in another clause there and give her half of that yes I see you smile sir am I giving her so much yes divorce is cheap sir but I take no stock in such true and fair I married her when she was blithe and young and Betsy was always good to me accepting with her tongue once when I was young as you and not so smart perhaps for me she mitted a lawyer and several other chaps and all of them was flustered and feely taken down and I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town once when I had a fever I won't forget it soon I was hot as a pasted turkey and crazy as a loon never an hour went by me when she was out of sight she nursed me true and tender and stuck to me day and night and if ever a house was tidy and ever a kitchen clean her house and kitchen was tidy as any I have ever seen and I don't complain of Betsy or any of her acts accepting when we've quarrelled and told each other facts so draw up the paper lawyer and I'll go home tonight and read the agreement to her and see if it's all right and then in the morning I'll sell it to a trading man I know and kiss the child that was left to us and out into the world I'll go and one thing put in the paper that first to me didn't occur that when I am dead at last she'll bring me back to her and lay me under the maples I planted years ago when she and I was happy before we quarrelled so and when she dies I wish that she would be laid by me and lying together in silence perhaps we will agree and if ever we met in heaven I wouldn't think it queer if we loved each other the better because we quarrelled here end of poem this recording is in the public domain and wife must pull in single harness for the rest of our natural life what is the matter say you I swan it's hard to tell most of the years behind us we've passed by very well I have no other woman she has no other man only we've lived together as long as we ever can so I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me and so we've agreed together that we can't never agree not that we've catched each other in any terrible crime we've been a gathering this for years a little at a time there was a stock of temper we both had for a start although we never suspected would take us too apart I had my various failings bred in the flesh and bone and Betsy like all good women had a temper of her own the only thing I remember where on we disagreed was something concerning heaven a difference in our creed we arched the thing at breakfast we arched the thing at tea and the more we arched the question the more we didn't agree and the next that I remember was when we lost a cow she had kicked the bucket for certain the question was only how I held my own opinion and Betsy another had and when we were done a talking we both of us was mad and the next that I remember it started in a joke but full for a week it lasted and neither of us spoke and the next was when I scolded because she broke a bowl and she said I was mean and stingy and hadn't any soul and so that bowl kept pouring dissensions in our cup and so that blamed cow critter was always a coming up and so that heaven we arched no nearer to us got but it gave us a taste of something a thousand times as hot and so the thing kept working and all the self same way always something to arg and something sharp to say and down on us came the neighbors a couple dozen strong and lent their kindest service for to help the thing along and there has been days together and many a weary week we was both of us cross and spunky and both too proud to speak and I have been thinking and thinking the whole of the winter and fall if I can't live kind with a woman why then I won't at all and so I have talked with Betsy and Betsy has talked with me and we have agreed together that we can't never agree and what is hers shall be hers and what is mine shall be mine and I'll put it in the agreement and take it to her to sign right on the paper lawyer the very first paragraph of all the farm and livestock that she shall have her half for she has helped to earn it through many a weary day and it's nothing more than justice that Betsy has her pay give her the house and homestead a man can thrive in Rome but women are scary creatures unless they have a home and I have always determined and never failed to say that Betsy should never want a home if I was taken away there is a little hard money that's drawn tolerable pay a couple of hundred dollars laid by for a rainy day safe in the hands of good men and easy to get at put in another clause there and give her half of that yes I see you smile sir at my given her so much yes divorce is cheap sir but I take no stock in such true and fair I married her when she was blithe and young and Betsy was always good to me except and with her tongue once when I was young as you and not so smart perhaps for me she mitten to lawyer and several other chaps and all of them was flustered and fairly taken down and I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town once when I had a fever I won't forget it soon I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon never an hour went by me when she was out of sight she nursed me true and tender and stuck to me day and night and if ever a house was tidy and ever a kitchen clean her house and kitchen was tidy as any I ever seen and I don't complain of Betsy or any of her acts except and when we've quarreled and told each other facts so draw up the paper lawyer and I'll go home tonight and read the agreement to her and see if it's all right and then in the morning I'll sell to a trading man I know and kiss the child that was left to us and out in the world I'll go and one thing put in the paper that first to me didn't occur that when I am dead at last she'll bring me back to her and lay me under the maples I planted years ago when she and I was happy before we quarreled so and when she dies I wish that she would be laid by me and lying together in silence perhaps we will agree and if ever we meet in heaven I wouldn't think it queer if we loved each other the better because we quarreled here end of poem this recording is in the public domain