Would you blame a feller any,
If the sun was all aglow,
If his pa had gone to meetin’,
An’ his ma was soon to go.
Then if his ma had rigged him out
In togs for Sunday-school,
If his chum came by and argued
’Twas no need to go by rule.
Is there really any harm,
If a feller does no wrong,
But jus’ takes his fishin’ tackle
An’ goes marchin’ straight along;
Jus’ to where the fish are bitin’
At a mos’ outlandish rate,
Could you blame a feller any
’Cause he went to diggin’ bait.
Could you blame a feller’s daddy,
Should he make a solemn vow,
That his sonny’d get a trouncin’,
Tho ’twould start a family row;
When to class the kids came troopin’,
Every feller, all save one,
When he found the fishin’ tackle
To be missin’—like his son.
“To think,” says he, “a son of mine
Would break the Sabbath day,
He’ll cause this head to bow in shame
While trudgin’ earth’s highway.”
Then a righteous rage o’ertook him,
Like a ship that’s lashed at sea,
While his long strides brought him nearer
The spot where his son might be.
Alas! when he saw his son there,
Jus’ atuggin’ at the line,
With a monster fish adanglin’;
(’Twas a sport he too thought fine!)
His old eyes jus’ fell a-dancin’,
Like the waves borne by a breeze,
An’ his soul was set a-singin’
With the birds in nearby trees.
Would you blame a feller’s daddy,
Should he break a solemn vow,
An’ help a lad to lug away
All the fish the law’d allow?
Who’d begrudge dad any pleasure,
(When his sun was bendin’ low,)
Which might set his old heart beatin’
With lost chords of long ago.
