Farmer Jones And
by T. O. Willis
Graphics by Heather Peck
Farmer Jones made haste to the vet,
He stood before him wet with sweat;
He, out of breath, said with a frown,
"Old Chap, my mule, old Maude is down.
She in the furrow lost her speed,
She just plain wilted like a weed;
Without her I can't plow or sow,
My family will starve you might know."
The puzzled vet said, "Lord, Lord,"
He wandered just what struck old Maude;
He gave him two pills for her legs,
They were as big as pullet eggs. He said they'd cure both mules and hogs,
They'd even heal knots on oak logs,
Farmer Jones ran home in a lope,
Upon his face was written hope.
The Lord was good, gave sun and rain,
Farmer Jones reaped much fruit and grain;
He filled his barns, his children fed,
He daily thanked God for his bread.
The vet had not seen him around,
He wondered if he'd tilled the ground;
A feeling surged deep in his bones,
He must at once see Farmer Jones.
The vet asked him as was his rule,
"Farmer Jones, how is Maude your mule?"
He said, "I done just as you wrote,
I pushed one pill down old Maude's throat.
She jumped up, gave her tail a lash,
She took off like a lightning flash;
I'd never caught her on yon hill,
Had I not took the other pill.
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