The grassy lawn so neat and clean,
Is watered oft to keep it green,
And nicely cut close to the ground,
By pushing the lawn mower around.

The flower beds like stars do shine, Flowering peas climb up the twine,
Such beauties rare are seldom seen, Like our well sprinkled bowling green.

The garden plot is very small,
Located near the barn-yard wall.
Mrs. Bacon is the husbandman,
She weeds it clean because she can.

Cucumbers and a lettuce bed,
Tomato vines and beets all red,
The radishes I must mention
They claim their share of attention.

A plum tree in the center stands,
And holds its title to the lands,
An unknown tree is growing there,
Its name or kind I can't declare.

It is very young, one year old,
It may not stand the winter's cold, There's not one foot of vacant ground,
In the garden part to be found.

The house, the barn and forest trees, Are here for comfort and to please, House convenient for work and rest, With better homes few folks are blessed.

Such blessings so freely given,
Tells of a Father in heaven,
Who gives to the sower his seed,
And to the eater bread indeed.

We are contented with our lot,
And with the good things we have got,
Our thanks shall flow as a river,
To our God the gracious giver.

                                                        -N. B. BACON
1109 Nineteenth street, Des Moines, Iowa