Fairfax, Minnesota
He brought his plows into my place
To have them fixed one day,
He said, ‘I’m in a hurry, boys.
I’d like it right away?’
We left the other work we had,
So he could get back home again
To feed and milk his cows.
Then when the job was finished, and
We helped him load his plow,
He said, ‘Well, Bill I’m sorry but–
I cannot pay you now.
Now I will shear my sheep next week,
And when I sell the wool,
I’ll come right in to see you and
I’ll settle up in full.’
I waited and I waited ’til
I met him on the street.
I said, ‘My friend what happened
Have you not sheared your sheep?’
He answered, ‘Bill I’m sorry but
The money is all spent.
But when I’m through with threshing I
Will pay you every cent.’
I waited and I waited ’til
The cutting had been done,
And every threshing outfit had
Completed all their run.
Then I met this same old fellow
And asked him for my pay,
I told him of his promise on
The street that summer day.
His answer was the same as yore,
The money was all gone,
And I must keep on waiting for
The work that I had done.
He said, ‘Bill, don’t you worry. Just
As sure as you are born,
I’ll be right in and pay you when
I’ve gathered in my corn.’
Now the corn has all been gathered
The Spring is here again,
And still this fellow owes me. I’ve
Been waiting all in vain.
And I kind of get to wondering
As I stand by the fire,
How a real dirt farmer can be
Such a doggoned liar.
