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He was just an old man with a toothless grin,
a wrinkled up face and a stubbled chin.
His clothes were all tattered, and his house was cold.
But old Grandpa Rice had a heart made of gold.
If ever a stranger would pass by Gramp's shack,
he'd rush out to greet him, and he'd call him on back.

He'd holler, Come in friend, set and chat fer a spell.
Then he'd serve up some tea, and his stories he'd tell.
His yarns were of the 'old times', when first he 'came here';
how he'd brought his new bride--oh, he loved her so dear.
His eyes filled with tears as he talked of dear Bell.
He'd buried her there - and a wee babe, as well.

With him in his shack on the side of a hill,
lived a mangey old cat, and a dog he called 'Bill.'
He existed on tea and boiled up dried beans,
and the odd time he'd stew up some dandelion greens.
He'd say, 'Let's go huntin' to find us some game.'
Then old Bill would follow, though the old dog was lame.
If perchance they should spy a jack rabbit or mole,
they would stand still and watch it run into its hole.
Neither one would attempt to catch, or to kill.
They both were alike -Grandpa Rice and old Bill.

The word spread around to the 'animal folk'
that the pair's hunting habit were merely a joke.
One day out of nowhere, came a massive buck-deer.
He held his head high, showing no trace of fear.
He watched as the man cocked his rusty old gun,
he heard him tell Bill, 'Now, this'll be fun!'

Grandpa Rice, through the sight,
looked the buck in the eye,
then he lowered his gun, with a long weary sigh.
The deer gave a snort as he trotted away;
'G'bye Gramps and Bill; there'll be no meat today!'
Grandpa Rice said, 'C'mon, Bill, let's amble on home.
Jist mebby I'll find you a dried up old bone.
As for me, I kin brew me some dandelion tea,
and boil up some taters, maybe toss in some peas.'

Then on came a winter, of storm after storm.
Just nothing Gramps did could get the shack warm.
He ran out of tea, had no more dried beans.
How he longed for a stew of dandelion greens.
So, soon Grandpa Rice became terribly ill.
He crawled on his cot beside Cat and old Bill.

One day - near to springtime -a trapper named,
Jack, by chance stumbled on to a shabby old shack.
He ventured inside to check out the site, he thought
that perhaps he could sleep there that night.
But there curled together, under a mat,
lay a frozen old man, a dog, and a cat.
Jack won't soon forget what he saw in that place.
Old Grandpa Rice died with a smile on his face.

Now, many years later, in that very same spot,
lies a pile of old lumber, and a rusted-out pot.
Just stand still and listen, and listen real well.
You might hear him calling,
'Come set fer a spell.'
Amidst all the rubble on the side of that hill,
lies the spirit of Gramps, his cat, and old Bill.

© Helen Dowd. Used w/ Permisson: All rights reserved.

This poem is from a true-life aquaintance with
this grand old man. His actual name was Grampa Rice,
and he did die in his cottage. So all the facts are true.
It happened a long time ago--in 1959.
We were living in the country at the time
and our neighbours were few and far between.


I wish the sky would open wide tonight,
And cleanse the world
With pouring rain and foreboding rolling thunder.
Announcing its presence and reminding.
The downpour trickles through the roof,
of an old abandoned house
Where only mice and dreams and me
Would spend our days and nights.

A bucket under a clever raindrop which
Found it's way down through
The rotting wood and tar paper protection.
One wonders how they know the way.

I wish the next day would be calm and wet.
Warm and still, with puddles.
I'd go to every one before it drained,
Until I found one clear enough to see my soul.

And I'd stare until it drained away,
Down the street into the gutter.
Carried into blackness and eternity.
I wonder how they know the way.


This ole house once knew his children
This ole house once knew his wife
This ole house was home and comfort
As they fought the storms of life
This old house once rang with laughter
This old house heard many shouts
Now he trembles in the darkness
When the lightnin' walks about

[Chorus]

Ain't a-gonna need this house no longer
Ain't a-gonna need this house no more
Ain't got time to fix the shingles
Ain't got time to fix the floor
Ain't got time to oil the hinges
Nor to mend the window-pane
Ain't a-gonna need this house no longer
He's a-gettin' ready to meet the saints

This ole house is a-gettin' shaky
This ole house is a-gettin' old
This ole house lets in the rain
This ole house lets in the cold
Oh his knees are-a gettin' chilly
But he feel no fear or pain
'Cause he sees an angel peekin'
Through a broken window-pane
[Chorus]

Ain't a-gonna need this house no longer
Ain't a-gonna need this house no more
Ain't got time to fix the shingles
Ain't got time to fix the floor
Ain't got time to oil the hinges
Nor to mend the window-pane
Ain't a-gonna need this house no longer
He's a-gettin' ready to meet the saints

[Chorus]

Ain't a-gonna need this house no longer
Ain't a-gonna need this house no more
Ain't got time to fix the shingles
Ain't got time to fix the floor
Ain't got time to oil the hinges
Nor to mend the window-pane
Ain't a-gonna need this house no longer
He's a-gettin' ready to meet the saints

This Ole House

Composer/songwriter : Stuart Hamblen
(whose competing version managed only #26)
Publishers : Duchess Music Ltd.)
Highest Position : #1. Weeks on chart : 23
Recorded : May 22, 1954
Flip side of her "Hey There" which also hit # 1

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