The Last Sundowner

He sat upon a fallen log And heaved a long, deep sigh. His gnarled hand fondling his old dog As his gaze went to the sky. "There goes another pane," said he "A soarin', roarin' pest! They robs a man of privacy, An' motor cars of rest." "Sundownin' ain't the game ut was Since men have took to wings; An' life grows narrer, jist because Of plans an' cars an' things. For the planes have pinched me privit skies An' the cars have grabbed me earth An' all the news by wireless flies; So what's sundownin' worth? "Time was when I could sit me down Where man had left no sign, An' earth an' sky for miles aroun' For that one hour was mine. And I could sit an' think me thorts An' watch the sun go west Without no crazy ingine's snorts To break into me rest. "And as the afternoon grew late I'd seek the haunts of men, An' at some lonely homestead gate I'd have sure welcome then; An' tucker-bags were gladly filled, And rest found for my back, In ‘change for bits of news I spilled And gossip of the track. "But now that wireless spreads its lies From this and other lands, They look on me with hard, cold eyes An' give with grudgin' hands. It's them that has to give me news; And when I seek some wide, Once silent scene, planes spoil me views, An' cars honk me aside." He sat upon a fallen log And heaved a long, deep sigh: "We're agein', me an' my ole dog, An' old things have to die. Sundownin's dead; men's minds an' ways Is changin' with a jerk. Seems like I'll have to end me days, Travellin'; in search of work."