It's June ag'in, an' in my soul I feel the fillin' joy <br />That's sure to come this time o' year to every little boy; <br />For, every June, the Sunday-schools at picnics may be seen, <br />Where "fields beyont the swellin' floods stand dressed in livin' green"; <br />Where little girls are skeered to death with spiders, bugs, and ants, <br />An' little boys get grass-stains on their go-to meetin' pants. <br />It's June ag'in, an' with it all what happiness is mine - <br />There's goin' to be a picnic, an' I'm goin' to jine! <br /> <br />One year I jined the Baptists, an' goodness! how it rained! <br />(But grampa says that that's the way "baptizo" is explained.) <br />And once I jined the 'Piscopils an' had a heap o' fun - <br />But the boss of all the picnics was the Presbyteriun! <br />They had so many puddin's, sallids, sandwidges, an' pies, <br />That a feller wisht his stummick was as hungry as his eyes! <br />Oh, yes, the eatin' Presbyteriuns give yer is so fine <br />That when they have a picnic, you bet I'm goin' to jine! <br /> <br />But at this time the Methodists have special claims on me, <br />For they're goin' to give a picnic on the 21st, D. V.; <br />Why should a liberal universalist like me object <br />To share the joys of fellowship with every friendly sect? <br />However het'rodox their articles of faith elsewise may be, <br />Their doctrine of fried chick'n is a savin' grace to me! <br />So on the 21st of June, the weather bein' fine, <br />They're goin' to give a picnic, and I'm goin' to jine!<br /><br />Eugene Field<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/picnic-time/
