The prairies are rolling, and covered with flowers.

They say it is lovely, the grass grows so high,—

And better than all, no doctor to pay;

For there it's so healthy, that men never

die.

Uncle Sam, you know, for a very small sum, Will give me a farm, that nature made

clear.

I'll build me a house, and break up my land, And then I'll be worth more'n a dozen men here.

Now, wife, we'll plan, and talk of our trip, Of our overland journey, and camping out,

too.

We'll build up our fire, by the road-side at

night,

And eat on the ground, as other folks do.

We'll sell what we can, and the rest give away,