In a little shack by the railroad track
In the year of 1893, my father planted in front of that house
A nice young maple tree.

It grew and it grew and we children did, too,
As the years went dashing by.
We climbed to thetop of that old maple tree
To watch the trains go by.
And the black smoke rolled from the engine's stack
Until they nearly reached the sky.

There were eight of us in that little shack
Including my father and mother,
But all that is left of that old gang is me
And Charley my brother.

Many years have rolled by, that shack is no more
And since we climbed that old maple tree,
But as I run a train on that railroad track
I always watched to see

SOURCE: 1887 - Benton, Iowa Centennial - 1987. p. 190. Courtesy of Mount Ayr Public Library, Mount Ayr IA

Transcriptions and notes by Sharon R. Becker, October of 2012

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