D. A. Ellsworth

“All folks hev some soft spot,” Ma uster say, “Somethin’ or ’nother Comes out some day Comes out ’fore they know it, Jest like ez not.” ’N’en us kids’d say, “Ma, What’s your sof’ spot?” An’ we’d keep a plaguin’, Till ma’d say, “I wish ’at you youngins ’D run away! Ask your pa’ bout his’n An’, like ez not, He’ll tell you willin’ly What’s his sof’ spot.” ’N’en we’d ’gree to ask him That very day; When his train’d whistle Why right away, We’d jest skedaddle Clean ’cross the lot, To be first to ask pa What’s his sof’ spot. Pa, he’d say, “My sof’ spot? Never hes none!” Wouldn’t tell us neither, But jest make fun; Then he’d tell his brakeman, He’d says “Great lot, Think you’re goin’ to tell ’em What’s your sof’ spot!” ’N’en we’d all go home, An’ after ’while Pa’d tell ma ’bout it, An’ ma she’d smile; We’d ’gin agin a guessin’, Till pa’d say, “Trot! Time you kids wuz dreamin’ In some sof’ spot.” An’ pa’d never tell us, When he wuz in; Ev’ry trip he come home We’d ’gin agin; Onct George sez when prayin’, He prayed a lot, “Please God, wisht you’d tell us What’s pa’s sof’ spot!” One day the opurat’r Sent word by Bert There hed bin a washout, An’ pa wuz hurt; Engineer wuz hurt, too, An’ both might die; Pa wanted to see us To say good-by. We wuz all so still When we went in; They wuz holdin’ pa up, A fannin’ him; An’ pa sez “I may die Jest like ez not, Tell the children I sed They’s my sof’ spot!” But our pa didn’t die, He jist got well; We wuz all so happy, Couldn’t ’gin to tell! ’Cause we all loved our pa, A great big lot, I guess God saw we wuz Pa’s sof’ spot!