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Riley Child Rhymes

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Produced by Maria Cecilia Lim and PG Distributed Proofreaders





[Illustration: A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells
abou--Frontispiece]




RILEY
CHILD-RHYMES

James Whitcomb Riley


WITH HOOSIER PICTURES BY

Will Vawter




Copyright 1890, 1896, 1898 and 1905




WITH HALE AFFECTION AND ABIDING FAITH
THESE RHYMES AND PICTURES
ARE INSCRIBED
TO THE CHILDREN EVERYWHERE




_He owns the bird-songs of the hills--
The laughter of the April rills;
And his are all the diamonds set
In Morning's dewy coronet,--
And his the Dusk's first minted stars
That twinkle through the pasture-bars
And litter all the skies at night
With glittering scraps of silver light;--
The rainbow's bar, from rim to rim,
In beaten gold, belongs to him._




CONTENTS

[Note from the transcriber: The Table of Contents below was taken from
the book and is an alphabetical list of the poems. A second Table of
Contents, listing the poems in the order they occur in this book, has
been provided by the transcriber.]

AT AUNTY'S HOUSE

BEAR STORY, THE

BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM, THE

BOYS' CANDIDATE, THE

BUMBLEBEE, THE

CIRCUS-DAY PARADE, THE

CURLY LOCKS

DAYS GONE BY, THE

DOWN AROUND THE RIVER

ENVOY

FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW, THE

GRANDFATHER SQUEERS

HAPPY LITTLE CRIPPLE, THE

HOME-MADE FAIRY-TALE, A

IMPETUOUS RESOLVE, AN

JOLLY MILLER, THE

LIFE-LESSON, A

LITTLE COAT, THE

LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE

LUGUBRIOUS WHING-WHANG, THE

NAUGHTY CLAUDE

NINE LITTLE GOBLINS, THE

OLD AUNT MARY'S

OLD HAY-MOW, THE

OLD TRAMP, THE

ON THE SUNNY SIDE

OUR HIRED GIRL

PET COON, THE

PIXY PEOPLE, THE

RAGGEDY MAN, THE

RIDER OF THE KNEE, THE

RUNAWAY BOY, THE

SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN, THE

SQUIRTGUN UNCLE MAKED ME, THE

SUDDEN SHOWER, A

TIME OF CLEARER TWITTERINGS

WAITIN' FER THE CAT TO DIE

WHO SANTY-CLAUS WUZ

WINTER FANCIES




Contents (Listed in the Order They Appear)

LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE

THE RAGGEDY MAN

CURLY LOCKS

THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW

THE HAPPY LITTLE CRIPPLE

THE RIDER OF THE KNEE

DOWN AROUND THE RIVER

AT AUNTY'S HOUSE

THE DAYS GONE BY

THE BUMBLEBEE

THE BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM

THE SQUIRTGUN UNCLE MAKED ME

THE OLD TRAMP

OLD AUNT MARY'S

WINTER FANCIES

THE RUNAWAY BOY

THE LITTLE COAT

AN IMPETUOUS RESOLVE

WHO SANTY-CLAUS WUZ

THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS

TIME OF CLEARER TWITTERINGS

THE CIRCUS-DAY PARADE

THE LUGUBRIOUS WHING-WHANG

WAITIN' FER THE CAT TO DIE

NAUGHTY CLAUDE

THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN

THE JOLLY MILLER

OUR HIRED GIRL

THE BOYS' CANDIDATE

THE PET COON

THE OLD HAY-MOW

ON THE SUNNY SIDE

A SUDDEN SHOWER

GRANDFATHER SQUEERS

THE PIXY PEOPLE

A LIFE-LESSON

A HOME-MADE FAIRY-TALE

THE BEAR STORY

ENVOY




ILLUSTRATIONS

WITCH-TALES

THEY WAS TWO GREAT BIG BLACK THINGS A-STANDIN' BY HER SIDE

AN' WHEN THEY TURN'T THE KIVVERS DOWN

LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE--TAILPIECE

THE RAGGEDY MAN--TITLE

HE SHOWED ME THE HOLE 'AT THE WUNKS IS GOT

CURLY LOCKS--TITLE

SIT ON A CUSHION AND SEW A FINE SEAM

THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW--TITLE

NEVER KNEW A BABY THAT WOULDN'T CROW FOR HIM

THE HAPPY LITTLE CRIPPLE--TITLE

AN' I PECK ON THE WINDER

AN' COOKS A' EGG FER ME

THE HAPPY LITTLE CRIPPLE--TAILPIECE

THE RIDER OF THE KNEE

DOWN AROUND THE RIVER--TITLE

NOON-TIME AND JUNE-TIME DOWN AROUND THE RIVER

DOWN AROUND THE RIVER--TAILPIECE

AT AUNTY'S HOUSE--TITLE

WE ET OUT ON THE PORCH

THE DAYS GONE BY--TITLE

IN THE ORCHARD

THE BUMBLEBEE

THE BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM--TITLE

STAND UP LIKE HIM AN' DRIVE

THE SQUIRTGUN UNCLE MAKED ME--TITLE

THE SQUIRTGUN--TAILPIECE

AN' NEN HE PEELED OFF THE BARK

THE OLD TRAMP

WE PATTER ALONG IN THE DUST AGAIN

OLD AUNT MARY'S--TAILPIECE

WINTER FANCIES--TITLE

WINTER WITHOUT AND WARMTH WITHIN

HERE IN MY ROOM I'M AS SNUGLY SHUT

AN' A GREA'-BIG PIG WENT "BOOH!"

HUG WITE CLOSE ROUND HER NECK

THE LITTLE COAT

THE LITTLE COAT--TAILPIECE

AN IMPETUOUS RESOLVE--TITLE

I'M GO' TO BE A BAKER

A-SLINGIN' PIE-CRUST 'LONG THE ROAD

WHO SANTY-CLAUS WUZ--TITLE

AN' QUAR'L WITH HIS FROSTED HEELS

WHO SANTY-CLAUS WUZ--TAILPIECE

THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS

THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS--TAILPIECE

TIME OF CLEARER TWITTERINGS--TITLE

WHERE THE SHELLBARK HICKORY TREE

THE CIRCUS-DAY PARADE

HOW THE CAGES JOLTED PAST

AND, LAST OF ALL, THE CLOWN

THE LUGUBRIOUS WHING-WHANG--TITLE

WAITIN' FER THE CAT TO DIE--TITLE

BAREFOOTED, HUNGRY, LEAN, ORNRY BOYS

WHY YOU ROCK SO SLOW?

NAUGHTY CLAUDE

THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN--TITLE

THIS PAIR OF MERRY FAYS

THE JOLLY MILLER--TITLE

THAT CAT O' YOURN I'D KILL HER

WUZ PARCHIN' CORN FER THE RAGGEDY MAN

THE BOYS' CANDIDATE

THE PET COON--TITLE

AN' NEN WHEN BILLY FIGHTED ME

THE OLD HAY-MOW--TITLE

IN OUR HAY-MOW WHERE I KEEP STORE

ON THE SUNNY SIDE--TITLE

AS A ROMPING BOY

A SUDDEN SHOWER--TITLE

SCHOOLGIRL FACES ... GLEAM FROM THE SHAWLS ABOUT THEIR HEADS

A SUDDEN SHOWER--TAILPIECE

GRANDFATHER SQUEERS--TITLE

AND SMOKE LEAF-TOBACCO

GRANDFATHER SQUEERS--TAILPIECE

THE PIXY PEOPLE--TITLE

WINGED ABOVE THE WALK

A LIFE-LESSON--TITLE

BUT HEAVEN HOLDS ALL FOR WHICH YOU SIGH

A HOME-MADE FAIRY-TALE--TITLE

A LITTLE DUDE-FAIRY

ENVOY




RILEY CHILD-RHYMES




LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE

[Illustration: They was two great big black things a-standin' by her side]

Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;
An' all us other childern, when the supper things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about,
An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

Onc't they was a little boy wouldn't say his prayers,--
So when he went to bed at night, away up stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wasn't there at all!
An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press,
An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found was thist his pants an' roundabout:--
An' the Gobble-uns'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

[Illustration: An' when they turn't the kivvers down]

An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin,
An' make fun of ever'one, an' all her blood an' kin;
An' onc't, when they was "company," an' ole folks was there,
She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care!
An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide,
They was two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side,
An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about!
An' the Gobble-uns'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

An' little Orphant Annie says when the blaze is blue,
An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes _woo-oo!_
An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray,
An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away,--
You better mind yer parents, an' yer teachers fond an' dear,
An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,
An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about,
Er the Gobble-uns'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

[Illustration: Little Orphant Annie--Tailpiece]




THE RAGGEDY MAN

[Illustration: The Raggedy Man--Title]

O The Raggedy Man! He works fer Pa;
An' he's the goodest man ever you saw!
He comes to our house every day,
An' waters the horses, an' feeds 'em hay;
An' he opens the shed--an' we all ist laugh
When he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf;
An' nen--ef our hired girl says he can--
He milks the cow fer 'Lizabuth Ann.--
Aint he a' awful good Raggedy Man?
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

W'y, The Raggedy Man--he's ist so good
He splits the kindlin' an' chops the wood;
An' nen he spades in our garden, too,
An' does most things 'at _boys_ can't do!--
He clumbed clean up in our big tree
An' shooked a' apple down fer me--
An' nother'n', too, fer 'Lizabuth Ann--
An' nother'n', too, fer The Raggedy Man.--
Aint he a' awful kind Raggedy Man?
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

[Illustration: He showed me the hole 'at the Wunks is got]

An' The Raggedy Man, he knows most rhymes
An' tells 'em, ef I be good, sometimes:
Knows 'bout Giunts, an' Griffuns, an' Elves,
An' the Squidgicum-Squees 'at swallers therselves!
An', wite by the pump in our pasture-lot,
He showed me the hole 'at the Wunks is got,
'At lives 'way deep in the ground, an' can
Turn into me, er 'Lizabuth Ann!
Aint he a funny old Raggedy Man?
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

The Raggedy Man--one time when he
Wuz makin' a little bow-'n'-orry fer me,
Says "When _you're_ big like your Pa is,
Air you go' to keep a fine store like his--
An' be a rich merchunt--an' wear fine clothes?--
Er what _air_ you go' to be, goodness knows!"
An' nen he laughed at 'Lizabuth Ann,
An' I says "'M go' to be a Raggedy Man!--
I'm ist go' to be a nice Raggedy Man!"
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!




CURLY LOCKS

[Illustration: Curly Locks--Title]

_Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine,--
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream._

Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?
The throb of my heart is in every line,
And the pulse of a passion as airy and glad
In its musical beat as the little Prince had!

[Illustration: Sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam]

Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine!--
O I'll dapple thy hands with these kisses of mine
Till the pink of the nail of each finger shall be
As a little pet blush in full blossom for me.

But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And thou shalt have fabric as fair as a dream,--
The red of my veins, and the white of my love,
And the gold of my joy for the braiding thereof.

And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream
From a service of silver, with jewels agleam,--
At thy feet will I bide, at thy beck will I rise,
And twinkle my soul in the night of thine eyes!

_Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine.--
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream._




THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW

[Illustration: The Funny Little Fellow--Title]

'Twas a Funny Little Fellow
Of the very purest type,
For he had a heart as mellow
As an apple over-ripe;
And the brightest little twinkle
When a funny thing occurred,
And the lightest little tinkle
Of a laugh you ever heard!

His smile was like the glitter
Of the sun in tropic lands,
And his talk a sweeter twitter
Than the swallow understands;
Hear him sing--and tell a story--
Snap a joke--ignite a pun,--
'Twas a capture--rapture--glory,
And explosion--all in one!

Though he hadn't any money--
That condiment which tends
To make a fellow "honey"
For the palate of his friends;--
Sweet simples he compounded--
Sovereign antidotes for sin
Or taint,--a faith unbounded
That his friends were genuine.

He wasn't honored, may be--
For his songs of praise were slim,--
Yet I never knew a baby
That wouldn't crow for him;
I never knew a mother
But urged a kindly claim
Upon him as a brother,
At the mention of his name.

[Illustration: Never knew a baby that wouldn't crow for him]

The sick have ceased their sighing
And have even found the grace
Of a smile when they were dying
As they looked upon his face;
And I've seen his eyes of laughter
Melt in tears that only ran
As though, swift dancing after,
Came the Funny Little Man.

He laughed away the sorrow,
And he laughed away the gloom
We are all so prone to borrow
From the darkness of the tomb;
And he laughed across the ocean
Of a happy life, and passed,
With a laugh of glad emotion,
Into Paradise at last.

And I think the Angels knew him,
And had gathered to await
His coming, and run to him
Through the widely-opened Gate--
With their faces gleaming sunny
For his laughter-loving sake,
And thinking, "What a funny
Little Angel he will make!"




THE HAPPY LITTLE CRIPPLE

[Illustration: The Happy Little Cripple--Title]

I'm thist a little cripple boy, an' never goin' to grow
An' get a great big man at all!--'cause Aunty told me so.
When I was thist a baby onc't, I falled out of the bed
An' got "The Curv'ture of the Spine"--'at's what the Doctor said.
I never had no Mother nen--fer my Pa runned away
An' dassn't come back here no more--'cause he was drunk one day
An' stobbed a man in thish-ere town, an' couldn't pay his fine!
An' nen my Ma she died--an' I got "Curv'ture of the Spine!"

[Illustration: An' I peck on the winder]

I'm nine years old! An' you can't guess how much I weigh, I bet!--
Last birthday I weighed thirty-three!--An' I weigh thirty yet!
I'm awful little fer my size--I'm purt' nigh littler 'nan
Some babies is!--an' neighbers all calls me "The Little Man!"
An' Doc one time he laughed an' said: "I 'spect, first thing you know,
You'll have a little spike-tail coat an' travel with a show!"
An' nen I laughed--till I looked round an' Aunty was a-cryin'--
Sometimes she acts like that, 'cause I got "Curv'ture of the Spine."

I set--while Aunty's washin'--on my little long-leg stool,
An' watch the little boys an' girls a-skippin' by to school;
An' I peck on the winder, an' holler out an' say:
"Who wants to fight The Little Man 'at dares you all today?"
An', nen the boys climbs on the fence, an' little girls peeks through,
An' they all says: "Cause you're so big, you think we're 'feared o' you!"
An' nen they yell, an' shake their fist at me, like I shake mine--
They're thist in fun, you know, 'cause I got "Curv'ture of the Spine!"

At evening, when the ironin's done, an' Aunty's fixed the fire,
An' filled an' lit the lamp, an' trimmed the wick an' turned it higher,
An' fetched the wood all in fer night, an' locked the kitchen door,
An' stuffed the ole crack where the wind blows in up through the floor--
She sets the kittle on the coals, an' biles an' makes the tea,
An' fries the liver an' the mush, an' cooks a egg fer me;
An' sometimes--when I cough so hard--her elderberry wine
Don't go so bad fer little boys with "Curv'ture of the Spine!"

[Illustration: An' cooks a' egg fer me]

But Aunty's all so childish-like on my account, you see,
I'm 'most afeard she'll be took down--an' 'at's what bothers me!--
'Cause ef my good old Aunty ever would git sick an' die,
I don't know what she'd do in heaven--till _I_ come, by an' by:--
Fer she's so ust to all my ways, an' ever'thing, you know,
An' no one there like me, to nuss an' worry over so!--
'Cause all the little childerns there's so straight an' strong an' fine,
They's nary angel 'bout the place with "Curv'ture of the Spine!"

[Illustration: The Happy Little Cripple--Tailpiece]




THE RIDER OF THE KNEE

Knightly Rider of the Knee
Of Proud-prancing Unclery!
Gaily mount, and wave the sign
Of that mastery of thine.

Pat thy steed and turn him free,
Knightly Rider of the Knee!
Sit thy charger as a throne--
Lash him with thy laugh alone:

Sting him only with the spur
Of such wit as may occur,
Knightly Rider of the Knee,
In thy shriek of ecstasy.

Would, as now, we might endure,
Twain as one--thou miniature
Ruler, at the rein of me--
Knightly Rider of the Knee!

[Illustration: The Rider of the Knee]




DOWN AROUND THE RIVER

[Illustration: Down Around the River--Title]

Noon-time an' June-time, down around the river!
Have to furse with 'Lizey Ann--but lawzy! I fergive her!
Drives me off the place, an' says 'at all 'at she's a-wishin',
Land o' gracious! time'll come I'll git enough o' fishin'!
Little Dave, a-choppin' wood, never 'pears to notice;
Don't know where she's hid his hat, er keerin' where his coat is,--
Specalatin', more'n like, he haint a-goin' to mind me,
An' guessin' where, say twelve o'clock, a feller'd likely find me!

Noon-time an' June-time, down around the river!
Clean out o' sight o' home, an' skulkin' under kivver
Of the sycamores, jack-oaks, an' swamp-ash an' ellum--
Idies all so jumbled up, you kin hardly tell 'em!--
_Tired_, you know, but _lovin'_ it, an' smilin' jes' to think 'at
Any _sweeter_ tiredness you'd fairly want to _drink_ it!
Tired o' fishin'--tired o' fun--line out slack an' slacker--
All you want in all the world's a little more tobacker!

Hungry, but _a-hidin'_ it, er jes' a-not a-keerin':--
Kingfisher gittin' up an' skootin' out o' hearin';
Snipes on the t'other side, where the County Ditch is,
Wadin' up an' down the aidge like they'd rolled their britches!
Old turkle on the root kindo-sorto drappin'
Intoo th' worter like he don't know how it happen!
Worter, shade an' all so mixed, don't know which you'd orter
Say; th' _worter_ in the shadder--_shadder_ in the _worter!_

Somebody hollerin'--'way around the bend in
Upper Fork--where yer eye kin jes' ketch the endin'
Of the shiney wedge o' wake some muss-rat's a-makin'
With that pesky nose o' his! Then a sniff o' bacon,
Corn-bred an' 'dock-greens--an' little Dave a-shinnin'
'Crost the rocks an' mussel-shells, a-limpin' an' a-grinnin',
With yer dinner fer ye, an' a blessin' from the giver,
Noon-time an' June-time down around the river!

[Illustration: Noon-time and June-time down around the river]

[Illustration: Down Around The River--Tailpiece]




AT AUNTY'S HOUSE

[Illustration: At Aunty's House--Title]

One time, when we'z at Aunty's house--
'Way in the country!--where
They's ist but woods--an' pigs, an' cows--
An' all's out-doors an' air!--
An' orchurd-swing; an' churry-trees--
An' _churries_ in 'em!--Yes, an' these--
Here red-head birds steals all they please,
An' tetch 'em ef you dare!--
W'y, wunst, one time, when we wuz there,
_We et out on the porch!_

[Illustration: We et out on the porch]

Wite where the cellar-door wuz shut
The table wuz; an' I
Let Aunty set by me an' cut
My vittuls up--an' pie.
'Tuz awful funny!--I could see
The red-heads in the churry-tree;
An' bee-hives, where you got to be
So keerful, goin' by;--
An' "Comp'ny" there an' all!--an' we--
_We et out on the porch!_

An' I ist et _p'surves_ an' things
'At Ma don't 'low me to--
An' _chickun-gizzurds_--(don't like _wings_
Like _Parunts_ does! do _you?_)
An' all the time, the wind blowed there,
An' I could feel it in my hair,
An' ist smell clover _ever'_where!--
An' a' old red-head flew
Purt' nigh wite over my high-chair,
_When we et on the porch!_




THE DAYS GONE BY

[Illustration: The Days Gone By--Title]

O the days gone by! O the days gone by!
The apples in the orchard, and the pathway through the rye;
The chirrup of the robin, and the whistle of the quail
As he piped across the meadows sweet as any nightingale;
When the bloom was on the clover, and the blue was in the sky,
And my happy heart brimmed over, in the days gone by.

[Illustration: In the orchard]

In the days gone by, when my naked feet were tripped
By the honeysuckle tangles where the water-lilies dipped,
And the ripples of the river lipped the moss along the brink,
Where the placid-eyed and lazy-footed cattle came to drink,
And the tilting snipe stood fearless of the truant's wayward cry
And the splashing of the swimmer, in the days gone by.

O the days gone by! O the days gone by!
The music of the laughing lip, the lustre of the eye;
The childish faith in fairies, and Aladdin's magic ring--
The simple, soul-reposing, glad belief in everything,--
When life was like a story, holding neither sob nor sigh,
In the golden olden glory of the days gone by.




THE BUMBLEBEE

You better not fool with a Bumblebee!--
Ef you don't think they can sting--you'll see!
They're lazy to look at, an' kindo' go
Buzzin' an' bummin' aroun' so slow,
An' ac' so slouchy an' all fagged out,
Danglin' their legs as they drone about
The hollyhawks 'at they can't climb in
'Ithout ist a-tumble-un out agin!
Wunst I watched one climb clean 'way
In a jim'son-blossom, I did, one day,--
An' I ist grabbed it--an' nen let go--
An' "_Ooh-ooh! Honey! I told ye so!_"
Says The Raggedy Man; an' he ist run
An' pullt out the stinger, an' don't laugh none,
An' says: "They _has_ ben folks, I guess,
'At thought I wuz predjudust, more er less,--
Yit I still muntain 'at a Bumblebee
Wears out his welcome too quick fer me!"

[Illustration: The Bumblebee]




THE BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM

[Illustration: The Boy Lives on Our Farm--Title]

The boy lives on our Farm, he's not
Afeard o' horses none!
An' he can make 'em lope, er trot,
Er rack, er pace, er run.
Sometimes he drives two horses, when
He comes to town an' brings
A wagon-full o' 'taters nen,
An' roastin'-ears an' things.

Two horses is "a team," he says,
An' when you drive er hitch,
The right-un's a "near-horse," I guess
Er "off"--I don't know which--
The Boy lives on our Farm, he told
Me, too, 'at he can see,
By lookin' at their teeth, how old
A horse is, to a T!

I'd be the gladdest boy alive
Ef I knowed much as that,
An' could stand up like him an' drive,
An' ist push back my hat,
Like he comes skallyhootin' through
Our alley, with one arm
A-wavin' Fare-ye-well! to you--
The Boy lives on our Farm!

[Illustration: Stand up like him an' drive]




THE SQUIRTGUN UNCLE MAKED ME

[Illustration: The Squirtgun Uncle Maked Me--Title]

Uncle Sidney, when he wuz here,
Maked me a squirtgun out o' some
Elder-bushes 'at growed out near
Where wuz the brickyard--'way out clear
To where the toll-gate come!

So when we walked back home again,
He maked it, out in our woodhouse where
Wuz the old workbench, an' the old jack-plane,
An' the old 'pokeshave, an' the tools all lay'n'
Ist like he wants 'em there.

He sawed it first with the old hand-saw;
An' nen he peeled off the bark, an' got
Some glass an' scraped it; an' told 'bout Pa,
When _he_ wuz a boy an' fooled his Ma,
An' the whippin' 'at he caught.

Nen Uncle Sidney, he took an' filed
A' old arn ramrod; an' one o' the ends
He screwed fast into the vise; an' smiled,
Thinkin', he said, o' when he wuz a child,
'Fore him an' Pa wuz mens.

He punched out the peth, an' nen he put
A plug in the end with a hole notched through;
Nen took the old drawey-knife an' cut
An' maked a handle 'at shoved clean shut
But ist where yer hand held to.

An' he wropt th'uther end with some string an' white
Piece o' the sleeve of a' old tored shirt;
An' nen he showed me to hold it tight,
An' suck in the water an' work it right
An' it 'ud ist squirt an' squirt!

[Illustration: The Squirtgun--Tailpiece]

[Illustration: An' nen he peeled off the bark]




THE OLD TRAMP

[Illustration: The Old Tramp.]

A Old Tramp slep' in our stable wunst,
An' The Raggedy Man he caught
An' roust him up, an' chased him off
Clean out through our back lot!

An' th' Old Tramp hollered back an' said,--
"You're a _purty_ man!--_You_ air!--
With a pair o' eyes like two fried eggs,
An' a nose like a Bartlutt pear!"




OLD AUNT MARY'S

Wasn't it pleasant, O brother mine,
In those old days of the lost sunshine
Of youth--when the Saturday's chores were through,
And the "Sunday's wood" in the kitchen, too,
And we went visiting, "me and you,"
Out to Old Aunt Mary's?

It all comes back so clear to-day!
Though I am as bald as you are gray--
Out by the barn-lot, and down the lane,
We patter along in the dust again,
As light as the tips of the drops of the rain,
Out to Old Aunt Mary's!

We cross the pasture, and through the wood
Where the old gray snag of the poplar stood,
Where the hammering "red-heads" hopped awry,
And the buzzard "raised" in the "clearing" sky
And lolled and circled, as we went by
Out to Old Aunt Mary's.

And then in the dust of the road again;
And the teams we met, and the countrymen;
And the long highway, with sunshine spread
As thick as butter on country bread,
Our cares behind, and our hearts ahead
Out to Old Aunt Mary's.

[Illustration: We patter along in the dust again]

Why, I see her now in the open door,
Where the little gourds grew up the sides and o'er
The clapboard roof!--And her face--ah, me!
Wasn't it good for a boy to see--
And wasn't it good for a boy to be
Out to Old Aunt Mary's?

And O my brother, so far away,
This is to tell you she waits to-day
To welcome us:--Aunt Mary fell
Asleep this morning, whispering, "Tell
The boys to come!" And all is well
Out to Old Aunt Mary's.

[Illustration: Old Aunt Mary's--Tailpiece]




WINTER FANCIES

[Illustration: Winter Fancies--Title]

I

Winter without
And warmth within;
The winds may shout
And the storm begin;
The snows may pack
At the window pane,
And the skies grow black,
And the sun remain
Hidden away
The livelong day--
But here--in here is the warmth of May!

[Illustration: Winter without and warmth within]

II

Swoop your spitefullest
Up the flue,
Wild Winds--do!
What in the world do I care for you?
O delightfullest
Weather of all,
Howl and squall,
And shake the trees till the last leaves fall!

III

The joy one feels,
In an easy chair,
Cocking his heels
In the dancing air
That wreathes the rim of a roaring stove
Whose heat loves better than hearts can love,
Will not permit
The coldest day
To drive away
The fire in his blood, and the bliss of it!

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Book Prizes Awarded With Nod to History
Annette Gordon-Reed won the National Book Award for nonfiction for “The Hemingses of Monticello: An American Family,” while Peter Matthiessen won the fiction award for “Shadow Country.”

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