Marthy Ellen

They's nothin' in the name to strike A feller more'n common like! 'Taint liable to git no praise Ner nothin' like it nowadays; An' yit that name o' her'n is jest As purty as the purtiest-- And more 'n that, I'm here to say I'll live a-thinkin' thataway And die far Marthy Ellen! It may be I was prejudust In favor of it from the fust-- 'Cause I kin ricollect jest how We met, and hear her mother now A-callin' of her down the road-- And, aggervatin' little toad!-- I see her now, jes' sort o' half- Way disapp'inted, turn and laugh And mock her--'Marthy Ellen!' Our people never had no fuss, And yit they never tuck to us; We neighbered back and foreds some; Until they see she liked to come To our house--and me and her Were jest together ever'whur And all the time--and when they'd see That I liked her and she liked me, They'd holler 'Marthy Ellen!' When we growed up, and they shet down On me and her a-runnin' roun' Together, and her father said He'd never leave her nary red, So he'p him, ef she married me, And so on--and her mother she Jest agged the gyrl, and said she 'lowed She'd ruther see her in her shroud, I _writ_ to Marthy Ellen-- That is, I kindo' tuck my pen In hand, and stated whur and when The undersigned would be that night, With two good hosses saddled right Far lively travelin' in case Her folks 'ud like to jine the race. She sent the same note back, and writ 'The rose is red!' right under it-- 'Your 'n allus, Marthy Ellen.' That's all, I reckon--Nothin' more To tell but what you've heerd afore-- The same old story, sweeter though Far all the trouble, don't you know. Old-fashioned name! and yit it's jest As purty as the purtiest; And more 'n that, I'm here to say I'll live a-thinking thataway, And die far Marthy Ellen!