� By a 12 year old Rowland Boy�
I� was born in old Kentucky in a cabin in the hills.
My boyhood seemed unlucky, it was so void of thrills.
My father was a farmer, he worked me on the land,
From early morn til late at night; seemed more than I could stand.
Sometimes when I would labor in the cornfield with my hoe,
And the sun beamed on my head with it's steady, gleaming glow,
I would scan the sky above me, hoping it would look like rain,
So I could stop a little from this awful, sweating strain.
But when the day was ended and the hills had hid the sun,
I had no time for resting
I had to bring in the water, I had to cut the wood,
I had to do the milking, in this I was quite good.
But there were other days I had no work to do,
So I whistled to my Doggie and to the hills we flew.
We wandered through the woodlands and through the hills of clover,
Oh, how we did enjoy it, I and little dog Rover.
One morning I was milking our cow we called "Old Red",
The flies were simply awful, they swarmed about my head.
Red stamped her feet, swished her tail, she whacked me in the eye,
It hurt so awful bad, I thought that I would cry.
Now I had not slept so well and I was feeling bad,
And when her old tail struck me it made me good and mad,
So I grabbed her tail and tied it, securely to the door,
Where Dad kept his work mules; I think that there were four.
Now I could milk with comfort and soon filled up the pail,
But Red she squirmed and twisted but could not move her tail.
"Saw, now Red you heifer and I'll soon turn you out."
But she was getting restless and began to jump about.
She gave a great big lunge; I heard the barn door crack,
She gave another jerk and knocked me on my back.
But I jumped up quickly, my head was mighty sore,
And Red was really traveling, still dragging that old door.
So I ran and jumped upon it to try and slow her down,
But she only ran the faster, the barn we went around.
Around the barn she galloped, her tail securely tied,
And I clinging tightly, I'll not forget that ride.
Now this was simply awful, oh what was I to do?
When the next corner, her tail--pulled in two.
Then Red she stopped at once for she was bleeding bad,
And I began to wonder now, what would I tell my Dad?
Yes, I was really sorry for that poor old bleeding cow,
I took her tail and hid it, I could untie it now.
I took it behind the barn and buried it in the ground,
So deep I felt real sure it never would be found.
The barn door I picked up and set against the wall,
Hadn't time to fix it for I heard my father call.
Now Dad was really angry, when I slowly came in.
"What I'd like to know, " he said, "Is just where you have been."
"All that time to milk one cow, it sure took You a whet.
You've been fooling around with the dog and playing too I bet."
Now hurry up, get to the field, there's work that must be done.
You've fooled enough this morning, grab your hoe and run."
Just then I heard old John, I heard out hired man shout,
"Mr. Rowland, come quickly, the mules have all got out."
"Got out?" My father answered, "now that cannot be so,
I put them up myself about an hour ago."
So he helped John chase the mules; they ran all over the lot,
And when he came back, O boy, but he was really hot.
"You know wife, these mules of mine, they sure do make me sore,
They've kicked and pawed around and broken down their door."
"Now what's that dog digging for, there behind the barn:--
No son, no time for rats, get along in that corn."
I scolded Rover sharply as to the field I hurried.
He was digging too closely to the
I never will forget that day, that day of misery,
I kept thinking of poor old Red, her pain all caused by me.
Oh, I was so choked up I thought that I would cry,
And I wondered as I worked if poor old Red would die.
When we were called to dinner, I had no appetite.
My mother said, "Now son, aren't you feeling all right?"
"You've hardly touched your food, you've even left your meat.
You surely can't be well, it probably is the heat.
We all left the table and sat down under a tree
And the sight I saw just then froze all the blood in me.
The sight I saw just then, it made me turn quite pale.
Into the yard came Rover, dragging poor old Red's tail.
I never saw dad get so wild, he ran to get his gun.
"I'll shoot that dog right now," He shouted on the run.
"That dog there is just no good, I never liked that pup,
"I'll put an end to him right now, he'll chew no more cows up."
"Please Dad, don't get so mad, please put away your gun.
Don't shoot little Rover for all that I have done.
I pulled Red's tail off; Broke down the door, I confess,
Little Rover didn't do it, I caused all this mess."
"Well son, if you had told me what happened at the start,
To punish you severely, I would not have the heart.
But the way you have acted just like a darned old sneak,
To think that I have raised a son that is so weak."
So grabbing me roughly, he half kicked half led
Me straight down the path to the old wood shed.
And the things that happened there I hate to have to state,
For they were much too painful to describe or relate.
And little Rover howled as he heard me cry and bawl,
For he seemed to realize that he had caused it all.
And the broken stall door I had to repair,
I was punished enough, it really wasn't fair.
Yes old Red at last got well; she didn't die at all,
But I was really glad when Dad sold her in the fall.
For I must still do the milking, and you don't know how
I hated to keep on and milk
Yes, I forgave my doggie for the pain he caused me then.
Once more we roamed the hills and were good pals again,
Through fields and woods we rambled; many good times we had,
When Rover was a puppy and I was just a lad.
(This happened when I was 12 years old.)
Written in the early 1800's
The background music on this page is "The Weeping Willow Rag".
(Poem by 12 year old Rowland boy)
A Tribute to Lawrence Stark