Classic Poem

You skirt in a hammock, you dame in a swing, you dude in the stern of a yacht,
You think you are hep to this picnickin' thing, an' close up to Nature you've got.
You load up a basket with sissified grub, with sandwiches, olives an' jell,
An' travel ten miles on a trolley or tub an' say you will rough it a spell.
You carry a napkin to wipe off your chin, a tablecloth folded an' neat,
An' china an' silverware always put in — for otherwise how could you eat?
You set on the grass an' lay chicken away in under a maple or pine
An' rave of " the forest primeval " an' say the life that is simple is fine.

The life that is simple? You gimme a pain. You think you've a hero behaved
If venturin' half of a mile from the train or off of a street that is paved.
The life that is simple? — With chicken for lunch to eat off a genuine plate?
You're the funniest, phoniest, buckwheater bunch that ever broke loose in the state.
I tell you, my friends in the lawn tennis suits an' cute little red ribbon lids,
To us in the woods in our snowpacks or boots you're nothin' but sissies an' kids.
The life that is simple? If really you'd like to be a real simple life cuss,
Along up the river to camp take a hike an' put in a Winter with us.

We'll feed you outdoors all you want to be fed, an' life will be simple enough;
We won't give you butter to put on your bread, but stoke you with heartier stuff —
Pork ribs by the yard that are swimmin' in fat an' other choice cuts of the meat,
Sow belly an' other such dishes as that, rump roast now an' then for a treat.
Our beans you will like, if a noodle you've got, because that's the easiest way —
It's better to like 'em, because, like or not. you'll git 'em four feedin's a day.
An' dainties we'll give you, of that never fear, along with our hunyacks an' coons;
Your palate we'll please an' your appetite cheer with plenty of pickles an' prunes.

We won't have no tables or pillows or stools, or waiters to pass things around;
Tin plates an' tin cups an' steel forks are the tools, the grub it is set on the ground.
The only request we'll be makin' of you when our table de hoty you try
Is that you won't grab the best chunks in the stew or carelessly step in the pie.
You'll have to look out for yourself like the rest, there's no one to pour or to carve.
Perhaps you can't eat any chuck but the best? Of course, if you can't, you can starve.
But, if you partake like the rest of the bunch an' shovel some food in your phiz,
I guess you'll go back to the town with a hunch you know what the simple life is .