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diff --git a/15834.txt b/15834.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5d46a95 --- /dev/null +++ b/15834.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3152 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Book of Joyous Children, by James Whitcomb Riley + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Book of Joyous Children + +Author: James Whitcomb Riley + +Illustrator: J. W. Vawter + +Release Date: May 16, 2005 [EBook #15834] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + +THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN + +[Illustration] + +JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + + + + +[Illustration] + +THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN + +JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + + +_Illustrated by_ + +J.W. VAWTER + + + + NEW YORK + CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + 1902 + + + Copyright, 1902, by + JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + ------------------------- + _Published October, 1902_ + + + +THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN + + + +[Illustration: "NOT IN CLASSIC LORE, BUT RICH IN THE CHILD-SAGAS OF THE +KITCHEN."] + + + + + GRATEFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY + INSCRIBED + TO + JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS + + * * * * * + + + + + _You who to the rounded prime_ + _Of a life of toil and stress_, + _Still have kept the morning-time_ + _Of glad youth in heart and spirit_, + _So your laugh, as children hear it_, + _Seems their own, no less_,-- + _Take this book of childish rhyme_-- + _The Book of Joyous Children_. + + _Their first happiness on earth_ + _Here is echoed--their first glee_: + _Rich, in sooth, the volume's worth_-- + _Not in classic lore, but rich in_ + _The child-sagas of the kitchen_;-- + _Therefore, take from me_ + _To your heart of childish mirth_ + _The Book of Joyous Children_. + + * * * * * + + + + +[Illustration] + + CONTENTS + + + PROEM + THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN + AN IMPROMPTU FAIRY-TALE + DREAM-MARCH + ELMER BROWN + NO BOY KNOWS + WHEN WE FIRST PLAYED "SHOW" + A DIVERTED TRAGEDY + THE RAMBO-TREE + FIND THE FAVORITE + THE BOY PATRIOT + EXTREMES + INTELLECTUAL LIMITATIONS + A MASQUE OF THE SEASONS + THOMAS THE PRETENDER + LITTLE DICK AND THE CLOCK + FOOL-YOUNGENSZ + THE KATYDIDS + BILLY AND HIS DRUM + THE NOBLE OLD ELM + THE PENALTY OF GENIUS + EVENSONG + THE TWINS + THE LITTLE LADY + "COMPANY MANNERS" + IN FERVENT PRAISE OF PICNICS + THE GOOD, OLD-FASHIONED PEOPLE + THE BEST TIMES + "HIK-TEE-DIK!" + A CHRISTMAS MEMORY + "OLD BOB WHITE" + + A SESSION WITH UNCLE SIDNEY: + + I ONE OF HIS ANIMAL STORIES + II UNCLE BRIGHTENS UP + III SINGS A "WINKY-TOODEN" SONG + IV AND MAKES NURSERY RHYMES + 1 THE DINERS IN THE KITCHEN + 2 THE IMPERIOUS ANGLER + 3 THE GATHERING OF THE CLANS + 4 "IT" + 5 THE DARING PRINCE + + A DUBIOUS "OLD KRISS" + A SONG OF SINGING + THE JAYBIRD + A BEAR FAMILY + + SOME SONGS AFTER MASTER-SINGERS: + I SONG + II TO THE CHILD JULIA + III THE DOLLY'S MOTHER + IV WIND OF THE SEA + V SUBTLETY + VI BORN TO THE PURPLE + + OLD MAN WHISKERY-WHEE-KUM-WHEEZE + LITTLE-GIRL-TWO-LITTLE-GIRLS + A GUSTATORY ACHIEVEMENT + CLIMATIC SORCERY + A PARENT REPRIMANDED + THE TREASURE OF THE WISE MAN + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + + +FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS + + + NOT IN CLASSIC LOOK, BUT RICH IN THE CHILD-SAGAS OF THE KITCHEN + KNEEL, ALL GLOWING, TO THE COOL SPRING + NO BOY KNOWS WHEN HE GOES TO SLEEP + JAMESY ON THE SLACK-ROPE + ACROSS THE ORCHARD + WHILE ALL THE ARMY, FOLLOWING, IN CHORUS CHEERS AND SINGS + WHERE IT GOES WHEN THE FIRE GOES OUT? + THE FAIRY QUEEN OF THE SEASONS + PORE PA! PORE PA! + SQUINT' OUR EYES AN' LAUGH' AGAIN + HE'S A-MARCHIN' ROUND THE ROOM + THE OLD TREE SAYS HE'S ALL OUR TREE + THEREFORE READ NO LONGER + SHE'S BUT A RACING SCHOOL-GIRL + THEY WAS GOD'S PEOPLE + THEM WUZ THE BEST TIMES EVER WUZ + HE'S GO' HITCH UP, CHRIS'MUS-DAY, AN' COME TAKE ME BACK AGAIN + WHEN WE DROVE TO HARMONY + A BIG, HOLLOW, OLD OAK-TREE, WHICH HAD BEEN BLOWN DOWN BY A STORM + THE YOUNG FOXES IN IT, ON THE HEARTH BESIDE HER + AN' ALL BE POETS AN' ALL RECITE + ALONG THE BRINK OF WILD BROOK-WAYS + I LIKE TO WATCH HIM + WHILE KATE PICKS BY, YET LOOKS NOT THERE + LEND ME THE BREATH OF A FRESHENING GALE + BOW TO ME IN THE WINDER THERE + OUR "OLD-KRISS"-MILKMAN + THE CHILDISH DREAMS IN HIS WISE OLD HEAD + + * * * * * + + + + +THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN + + + Bound and bordered in leaf-green, + Edged with trellised buds and flowers + And glad Summer-gold, with clean + White and purple morning-glories + Such as suit the songs and stories + Of this book of ours, + Unrevised in text or scene,-- + The Book of Joyous Children. + + Wild and breathless in their glee-- + Lawless rangers of all ways + Winding through lush greenery + Of Elysian vales--the viny, + Bowery groves of shady, shiny + Haunts of childish days. + Spread and read again with me + The Book of Joyous Children. + + What a whir of wings, and what + Sudden drench of dews upon + The young brows, wreathed, all unsought, + With the apple-blossom garlands + Of the poets of those far lands + Whence all dreams are drawn + Set herein and soiling not + The Book of Joyous Children. + + In their blithe companionship + Taste again, these pages through, + The hot honey on your lip + Of the sun-smit wild strawberry, + Or the chill tart of the cherry; + Kneel, all glowing, to + The cool spring, and with it sip + The Book of Joyous Children. + + As their laughter needs no rule, + So accept their language, pray.-- + Touch it not with any tool: + Surely we may understand it,-- + As the heart has parsed or scanned it + Is a worthy way, + Though found not in any School + The Book of Joyous Children. + + +[Illustration: "KNEEL, ALL GLOWING, TO THE COOL SPRING."] + + + Be a truant--know no place + Of prison under heaven's rim! + Front the Father's smiling face-- + Smiling, that _you_ smile the brighter + For the heavy hearts made lighter, + Since you smile with Him. + Take--and thank Him for His grace-- + The Book of Joyous Children. + + * * * * * + + + + +AN IMPROMPTU FAIRY-TALE + + +[Illustration] + + + _When I wuz ist a little bit_ + _o' weenty-teenty kid_ + _I maked up a Fairy-tale,_ + _all by myse'f, I did:--_ + + + + I + + Wunst upon a time wunst + They wuz a Fairy King, + An' ever'thing he have wuz _gold--_, + His clo'es, an' _ever_'thing! + An' all the other Fairies + In his goldun Palace-hall + Had to hump an' hustle-- + 'Cause he wuz bosst of all! + + + + II + + He have a goldun trumput, + An' when he blow' on that, + It's a sign he want' his boots, + Er his coat er hat: + They's a sign fer ever'thing,-- + An' all the Fairies knowed + Ever' sign, an' come a-hoppin' + When the King blowed! + + +[Illustration] + + + + III + + Wunst he blowed an' telled 'em all: + "Saddle up yer bees-- + Fireflies is gittin' fat + An' sassy as you please!-- + Guess we'll go a-huntin'!" + So they hunt' a little bit, + Till the King blowed "Supper-time," + Nen they all quit. + + +[Illustration] + + + + IV + + Nen they have a Banqut + In the Palace-hall, + An' ist et! an' et! an' et! + Nen they have a _Ball_; + An' when the _Queen_ o' Fairyland + Come p'omenadin' through, + The King says an' halts her,-- + "Guess I'll marry you!" + + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + + +DREAM-MARCH + + + "Wasn't it a funny dream!--perfectly bewild'rin'!-- + Last night, and night before, and night before that, + Seemed like I saw the march o' regiments o' children, + Marching to the robin's fife and cricket's rat-ta-tat! + Lily-banners overhead, with the dew upon 'em, + On flashed the little army, as with sword and flame; + Like the buzz o' bumble-wings, with the honey on 'em, + Came an eerie, cheery chant, chiming as it came:-- + +[Illustration] + + _Where go the children? Travelling! Travelling_! + _Where go the children, travelling ahead_? + _Some go to kindergarten; some go to day-school_; + _Some go to night-school; and some go to bed_! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + Smooth roads or rough roads, warm or winter weather, + On go the children, tow-head and brown, + Brave boys and brave girls, rank and file together, + Marching out of Morning-Land, over dale and down: + +[Illustration] + + Some go a-gypsying out in country places-- + Out through the orchards, with blossoms on the boughs + Wild, sweet, and pink and white as their own glad faces; + And some go, at evening, calling home the cows. + +[Illustration] + + _Where go the children? Travelling! Travelling_! + _Where go the children, travelling ahead_? + _Some go to foreign wars, and camps by the firelight_-- + _Some go to glory so; and some go to bed_! + +[Illustration] + + Some go through grassy lanes leading to the city-- + Thinner grow the green trees and thicker grows the dust; + Ever, though, to little people any path is pretty + So it leads to newer lands, as they know it must. + Some go to singing less; some go to list'ning; + Some go to thinking over ever-nobler themes; + Some go anhungered, but ever bravely whistling, + Turning never home again only in their dreams. + + _Where go the children? Travelling! Travelling_! + _Where go the children, travelling ahead_? + _Some go to conquer things; some go to try them_; + _Some go to dream them; and some go to bed_! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + + +[Illustration: ELMER BROWN] + +ELMER BROWN + + +[Illustration] + + Awf'lest boy in this-here town + Er anywheres is Elmer Brown! + He'll mock you--yes, an' strangers, too, + An' make a face an' yell at you,-- + "_Here's_ the way _you_ look!" + +[Illustration] + + Yes, an' wunst in School one day, + An' Teacher's lookin' wite that way, + He helt his slate, an' hide his head, + An' maked a face at _her_, an' said,-- + "_Here's_ the way _you_ look!" + +[Illustration] + + An' sir! when Rosie Wheeler smile + One morning at him 'crosst the aisle, + He twist his face all up, an' black + His nose wiv ink, an' whisper back,-- + "_Here's_ the way _you_ look!" + +[Illustration] + + Wunst when his Aunt's all dressed to call, + An' kiss him good-bye in the hall, + An' latch the gate an' start away, + He holler out to her an' say,-- + "_Here's_ the way _you_ look!" + +[Illustration] + + An' when his Pa he read out loud + The speech he maked, an' feel so proud + It's in the paper--Elmer's Ma + She ketched him--wite behind his Pa,-- + "_Here's_ the way _you_ look!" + +[Illustration] + + Nen when his Ma she slip an' take + Him in the other room an' shake + Him good! w'y, he don't care--no-_sir_!-- + He ist look up an' laugh at her,-- + "_Here's_ the way _you_ look!" + + * * * * * + + + + +NO BOY KNOWS + + + There are many things that boys may know-- + Why this and that are thus and so,-- + Who made the world in the dark and lit + The great sun up to lighten it: + Boys know new things every day-- + When they study, or when they play,-- + When they idle, or sow and reap-- + But no boy knows when he goes to sleep. + + Boys who listen--or should, at least,-- + May know that the round old earth rolls East;-- + And know that the ice and the snow and the rain-- + Ever repeating their parts again-- + Are all just water the sunbeams first + Sip from the earth in their endless thirst, + And pour again till the low streams leap.-- + But no boy knows when he goes to sleep. + + A boy may know what a long glad while + It has been to him since the dawn's first smile, + When forth he fared in the realm divine + Of brook-laced woodland and spun-sunshine;-- + He may know each call of his truant mates, + And the paths they went,--and the pasture-gates + Of the 'cross-lots home through the dusk so deep.-- + But no boy knows when he goes to sleep. + + O I have followed me, o'er and o'er, + From the flagrant drowse on the parlor-floor, + To the pleading voice of the mother when + I even doubted I heard it then-- + To the sense of a kiss, and a moonlit room, + And dewy odors of locust-bloom-- + A sweet white cot--and a cricket's cheep.-- + But no boy knows when he goes to sleep. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "NO BOY KNOWS WHEN HE GOES TO SLEEP."] + + * * * * * + + + + +WHEN WE FIRST PLAYED "SHOW" + + + Wasn't it a good time, + Long Time Ago-- + When we all were little tads + And first played "Show"!-- + When every newer day + Wore as bright a glow + As the ones we laughed away-- + Long Time Ago! + + Calf was in the back-lot; + Clover in the red; + Bluebird in the pear-tree; + Pigeons on the shed; + Tom a-chargin' twenty pins + At the barn; and Dan + Spraddled out just like "The + 'Injarubber'-Man!" + + Me and Bub and Rusty, + Eck and Dunk and Sid, + 'Tumblin' on the sawdust + Like the A-rabs did; + Jamesy on the slack-rope + In a wild retreat, + Grappling back, to start again-- + When he chalked his feet! + +[Illustration] + + Wasn't Eck a wonder, + In his stocking-tights? + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "JAMESY ON THE SLACK-ROPE."] + + * * * * * + + Wasn't Dunk--his leaping lion-- + Chief of all delights! + Yes, and wasn't "Little Mack" + Boss of all the Show,-- + Both Old Clown and Candy-Butcher-- + Long Time Ago! + + Sid the Bareback-Rider; + And--oh-me-oh-_my_!-- + Bub, the spruce Ring-master, + Stepping round so spry!-- + In his little waist-and-trousers + All made in one, + Was there a prouder youngster + Under the sun! + + And NOW--who will tell me,-- + Where are they all? + Dunk's a sanatorium doctor, + Up at Waterfall; + Sid's a city street-contractor; + Tom has fifty clerks; + And Jamesy he's the "Iron Magnate" + Of "The Hecla Works." + + And Bub's old and bald now, + Yet still he hangs on,-- + Dan and Eck and "Little Mack," + Long, long gone! + But wasn't it a good time, + Long Time Ago-- + When we all were little tads + And first played "Show"! + + * * * * * + + + + +A DIVERTED TRAGEDY + + +[Illustration] + + Gracie wuz allus a _careless_ tot; + But Gracie dearly loved her doll, + An' played wiv it on the winder-sill + 'Way up-stairs, when she ought to _not_, + An' her muvver _telled_ her so an' all; + But she won't _mind_ what _she_ say--till, + First thing she know, her dolly fall + Clean spang out o' the winder plumb + Into the street! An' here Grace come + Down-stairs, two at a time, ist wild + An' a-screamin', "Oh, my child! my child!" + +[Illustration] + + Jule wuz a-bringin' their basket o' clo'es + Ist then into their hall down there,-- + An' she ist stop' when Gracie bawl, + An' Jule she say "She ist declare + She's ist in time!" An' what you s'pose? + She sets her basket down in the hall, + An' wite on top o' the snowy clo'es + Wuz Gracie's dolly a-layin' there + An' ist ain't bu'st ner hurt a-tall! + +[Illustration] + + Nen Gracie smiled--ist _sobbed_ an' smiled-- + An' cried, "My child! my precious child!" + + * * * * * + + + + +THE RAMBO-TREE + + + When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree-- + It's a long, sweet way across the orchard!-- + The bird sings low as the bumble-bee-- + It's a long, sweet way across the orchard!-- + The poor shote-pig he says, says he: + "When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree + There's enough for you and enough for me."-- + It's a long, sweet way across the orchard. + + _For just two truant lads like we_, + _When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree_ + _There's enough for you and enough for me_-- + _It's a long, sweet way across the orchard_. + + When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree-- + It's a long, sweet way across the orchard!-- + The mole digs out to peep and see-- + It's a long, sweet way across the orchard!-- + The dusk sags down, and the moon swings free, + There's a far, lorn call, "Pig-_gee_! 'Pig-_gee_!" + And two boys--glad enough for three.-- + It's a long, sweet way across the orchard. + + _For just two truant lads like we_, + _When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree_ + _There's enough for you and enough for me_-- + _It's a long, sweet way across the orchard_. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "ACROSS THE ORCHARD."] + + * * * * * + + + + +FIND THE FAVORITE + + + Our three cats is Maltese cats, + An' they's two that's white,-- + An' bofe of 'em's _deef_--an' that's + 'Cause their _eyes_ ain't right.-- + +[Illustration] + + Uncle say that _Huxley_ say + Eyes of _white_ Maltese-- + When they don't match thataway-- + They're deef as you please! + + _Girls, they_ like our white cats best, + 'Cause they're white as snow, + Yes, an' look the stylishest-- + But they're deef, you know! + + They don't know their names, an' don't + Hear us when we call + "Come in, Nick an' Finn!"--they won't + Come fer us at all! + + But our _other_ cat, _he_ knows + Mister Nick an' Finn,-- + Mowg's _his_ name,--an' when _he_ goes + Fer 'em, they come in! + + Mowgli's _all_ his name--the same + Me an' Muvver took + Like the Wolf-Child's _other_ name, + In "The Jungul Book." + + I bet Mowg's the smartest cat + In the world!--_He's_ not + _White_, but mousy-plush, with that + Smoky gloss he's got! + + All's got little bells to ring, + Round their neck; but none + Only Mowg _knows_ anything-- + He's the only one! + + I ist 'spect sometimes he hate + White cats' stupid ways:-- + He won't hardly 'sociate + With 'em, lots o' days! + + Mowg wants in where _we_ air,--well, + He'll ist take his paw + An' ist ring an' ring his bell + There till me er Ma + + Er _some_body lets him in + Nen an' shuts the door.-- + An', when he wants out ag'in, + Nen he'll ring some more. + + Ort to hear our Katy tell! + She sleeps 'way up-stairs; + An' last night she hear Mowg's bell + Ringin' round _some_wheres... + + Trees grows by her winder.--So, + She lean out an' see + Mowg up there, 'way out, you know, + In the clingstone-tree;-- + + An'-sir! he ist _hint_ an' _ring_,-- + Till she ketch an' plat + Them limbs;--nen he crawl an' spring + In where Katy's at! + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + + +THE BOY PATRIOT + + + I want to be a Soldier!-- + A Soldier!-- + A Soldier!-- + I want to be a Soldier, with a sabre in my hand + Or a little carbine rifle, or a musket on my shoulder, + Or just a snare-drum, snarling in the middle of the band; + I want to hear, high overhead, The Old Flag flap her wings + While all the Army, following, in chorus cheers and sings; + I want to hear the tramp and jar + Of patriots a million, + As gayly dancing off to war + As dancing a cotillion. + + _I want to be a Soldier!_-- + _A Soldier!_-- + _A Soldier!_-- + _I want to be a Soldier, with a sabre in my hand_ + _Or a little carbine rifle, or a musket on my shoulder_, + _Or just a snare-drum, snarling in the middle of the band_. + + I want to see the battle!-- + The battle!-- + The battle!-- + I want to see the battle, and be in it to the end;-- + I want to hear the cannon clear their throats and catch the prattle + Of all the pretty compliments the enemy can send!-- + And then I know my wits will go,--and where I _should'nt_ be-- + Well, there's the spot, in any fight, that you may search for me. + So, when our foes have had their fill, + Though I'm among the dying, + To see The Old Flag flying still, + I'll laugh to leave her flying! + + _I want to be a Soldier!_-- + _A Soldier!_-- + _A Soldier!_-- + _I want to be a Soldier, with a sabre in my hand_ + _Or a little carbine rifle, or a musket on my shoulder_, + _Or just a snare-drum, snarling in the middle of the band_. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "WHILE ALL THE ARMY, FOLLOWING, IN CHORUS CHEERS AND +SINGS."] + + * * * * * + + + + +EXTREMES + + +[Illustration] + + +I + + A little boy once played so loud + That the Thunder, up in a thunder-cloud, + Said, "Since I can't be heard, why, then + I'll never, never thunder again!" + +[Illustration] + + +II + + And a little girl once kept so still + That she heard a fly on the window-sill + Whisper and say to a lady-bird,-- + "She's the stilliest child I ever heard!" + + * * * * * + + + + +INTELLECTUAL LIMITATIONS + + + Parunts knows lots more than us, + But they don't know _all_ things,-- + 'Cause we ketch 'em, lots o' times, + Even on little small things. + + One time Winnie ask' her Ma, + At the winder, sewin', + What's the wind a-doin' when + It's a-not a-_blowin_'? + + Yes, an' 'Del', that very day, + When we're nearly froze out, + He ask' Uncle _where_ it goes + When the fire goes out? + + Nen _I_ run to ask my Pa, + That way, somepin' funny; + But I can't say ist but "Say," + When he turn to me an' say, + "Well, what is it, Honey?" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "WHERE IT GOES WHEN THE FIRE GOES OUT?"] + + * * * * * + + + + +A MASQUE OF THE SEASONS + + +Scene.--_A kitchen.--Group of Children, popping corn.--The Fairy Queen +of the Seasons discovered in the smoke of the corn-popper.--Waving her +wand, and, with eerie, sharp, imperious ejaculations, addressing the +bespelled auditors, who neither see nor hear her nor suspect her +presence._ + + +QUEEN + + Summer or Winter or Spring or Fall,-- + Which do you like the best of all? + + +LITTLE JASPER + + When I'm dressed warm as warm can be, + And with boots, to go + Through the deepest snow, + Winter-time is the time for me! + + +QUEEN + + Summer or Winter or Spring or Fall,-- + Which do you like the best of all? + + +LITTLE MILDRED + + I like blossoms, and birds that sing; + The grass and the dew, + And the sunshine, too,-- + So, best of all I like the Spring. + + +QUEEN + + Summer or Winter or Spring or Fall,-- + Which do you like the best of all? + + +LITTLE MANDEVILLE + + O little friends, I most rejoice + When I hear the drums + As the Circus comes,-- + So Summer-time's my special choice. + + +QUEEN + + Summer or Winter or Spring or Fall,-- + Which do you like the best of all? + + +LITTLE EDITH + + Apples of ruby, and pears of gold, + And grapes of blue + That the bee stings through.-- + Fall--it is all that my heart can hold! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THE FAIRY QUEEN OF THE SEASONS."] + + * * * * * + +QUEEN + + Soh! my lovelings and pretty dears, + You've _each_ a favorite, it appears,-- + Summer and Winter and Spring and Fall.-- + That's the reason I send them _all_! + + * * * * * + + + + +THOMAS THE PRETENDER + + + Tommy's alluz playin' jokes, + An' actin' up, an' foolin' folks; + An' wunst one time he creep + In Pa's big chair, he did, one night, + An' squint an' shut his eyes bofe tight, + An' say, "Now I 'm asleep." + An' nen we knowed, an' Ma know' too, + He _ain't_ asleep no more 'n you! + +[Illustration] + + An' wunst he clumbed on our back'fence + An' flop his arms an' nen commence + To crow, like he's a hen; + But when he failed off, like he done, + He didn't fool us childern none, + Ner didn't _crow_ again. + An' our Hired Man, as he come by, + Says, "Tom can't _crow_, but he kin _cry_." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "PORE PA! PORE PA!"] + + * * * * * + + + + +LITTLE DICK AND THE CLOCK + + + When Dicky was sick + In the night, and the clock, + As he listened, said "Tick- + Atty--tick-atty--tock!" + He said that _it_ said, + Every time it said "Tick," + It said "Sick," instead, + And he _heard_ it say "Sick!" + And when it said "Tick- + Atty--tick-atty--tock," + He said it said "Sick- + Atty--sick-atty--sock!" + And he tried to _see_ then, + But the light was too dim, + Yet he _heard_ it again-- + And't was _talking_ to him! + + And then it said "Sick- + Atty--sick-atty--sick + You poor little Dick- + Atty--Dick-atty--dock! + Have you got the hick- + Atties? Hi! send for Doc + To hurry up quick + Atty--quick-atty--quock, + And heat a hot brick- + Atty--brick-atty--brock, + +[Illustration] + + And rikle-ty wrap it + And clickle-ty clap it + Against his cold feet- + Al-ty--weep-aty--eepaty-- + _There_ he goes, slapit- + Ty--slippaty--sleepaty!" + + * * * * * + + + + +FOOL-YOUNGENS + + + Me an' Bert an' Minnie-Belle + Knows a joke, an' we won't tell! + No, we don't--'cause we don't know + _Why_ we got to laughin' so; + But we got to laughin' so, + "We ist kep' a-laughin'. + + Wind wuz blowin' in the tree-- + An' wuz only ist us three + Playin' there; an' ever' one + Ketched each other, like we done, + Squintin' up there at the sun + Like we wuz a-laughin'. + + Nothin' funny anyway; + But I laughed, an' so did they-- + An' we all three laughed, an' nen + Squint' our eyes an' laugh' again: + Ner we didn't ist _p'ten'_-- + We wuz _shore-'nough_ laughin'. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "SQUINT' OUR EYES AN' LAUGH' AGAIN"] + + * * * * * + + "We ist laugh' an' laugh', tel Bert + Say he _can't_ quit an' it hurt. + Nen I _howl_, an' Minnie-Belle + She tear up the grass a spell + An' ist stop her yeers an' _yell_ + Like she'd _die_ a-laughin'. + + Never sich fool-youngens yit! + Nothin' funny,--not a bit!-- + But we laugh' so; tel we whoop' + Purt'-nigh like we have the croup-- + All so hoarse we'd wheeze an' whoop + An' ist _choke_ a-laughin'. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE KATYDIDS + + + Sometimes I keep + From going to sleep, + To hear the katydids "cheep-cheep!" + And think they say + Their prayers that way; + But _katydids_ don't have to _pray_! + +[Illustration] + + I listen when + They cheep again + And so, I think, they're _singing_ then! + But, no; I'm wrong,-- + The sound's too long + And all-alike to be a song! + + I think, "Well, there! + I do declare, + If it is neither song nor prayer, + It's _talk_--and quite + Too vain and light + For me to listen to all night!" + + And so, I smile, + And think,--"Now I'll + Not listen for a little while!"-- + Then, sweet and clear, + Next "_cheep_" I hear + 'S a _kiss_.... Good morning, Mommy dear! + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + + +BILLY AND HIS DRUM + + + Ho! it's come, kids, come! + "With a bim! bam! bum! + Here's little Billy bangin' on his big bass drum! + He's a-marchin' round the room, + With his feather-duster plume + A-noddin' an' a-bobbin' with his bim! bom! boom! + + Looky, little Jane an' Jim! + Will you only look at him, + A-humpin' an' a-thumpin' with his bam! bom! bim! + Has the Day o' Judgment come + Er the New Mi-len-nee-um? + Er is it only Billy with his bim! bam! bim! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "HE'S A-MARCHIN' ROUND THE ROOM."] + + * * * * * + + I 'm a-comin'; yes, I am-- + Jim an' Sis, an' Jane an' Sam! + We'll all march off with Billy an' his bom! bim! bam! + Come _hurrawin'_ as you come, + Er they'll think you're deef-an'-dumb + Ef you don't hear little Billy an' his big bass drum! + + * * * * * + + + + +THE NOBLE OLD ELM + + + O big old tree, so tall an' fine, + Where all us childern swings an' plays, + Though neighbers says you're on the line + Between Pa's house an' Mr. Gray's,-- + Us childern used to almost fuss, + Old Tree, about you when we 'd play.-- + We'd argy you belonged to _us_, + An' them Gray-kids the other way! + + Till _Elsie_, one time _she_ wuz here + An' playin' wiv us--Don't you mind, + Old Mister Tree?--an' purty near + She scolded us the hardest kind + Fer quar'llin' 'bout you thataway, + An' say _she'll_ find--ef we'll keep still-- + Whose tree you air _fer shore_, she say, + An' settle it _fer good_, she will! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THE OLD TREE SAYS HE'S ALL OUR TREE."] + + * * * * * + + So all keep still: An' nen she gone + An' pat the Old Tree, an' says she,-- + "Whose air you, Tree?" an' nen let on + Like she's a-list'nin' to the Tree,-- + An' nen she say, "It's settled,--'cause + The Old Tree says he's _all_ our tree-- + His _trunk_ belongs to bofe your Pas, + But _shade_ belongs to you an' me." + + * * * * * + + + + +THE PENALTY OF GENIUS + +[Illustration] + + + "When little 'Pollus Morton he's + A-go' to speak a piece, w'y, nen + The Teacher smiles an' says 'at she's + Most proud, of all her little men + An' women in her school--'cause 'Poll + He allus speaks the best of all. + + An' nen she'll pat him on the cheek, + An' hold her finger up at you + _Before_ he speak'; an' _when_ he speak' + It's ist some piece _she_ learn' him to! + 'Cause he's her favorite.... An' she + Ain't pop'lar as she _ust_ to be! + + When 'Pollus Morton speaks, w'y, nen + Ist all the other childern knows + They're smart as him an' smart-again!-- + Ef they _can't_ speak an' got fine clo'es, + Their Parunts loves 'em more 'n 'Poll- + Us Morton, Teacher, speech, an' all! + + * * * * * + + + + +EVENSONG + + + Lay away the story,-- + Though the theme is sweet, + There's a lack of something yet, + Leaves it incomplete:-- + There's a nameless yearning-- + Strangely undefined-- + For a story sweeter still + Than the written kind. + + Therefore read no longer-- + I've no heart to hear + But just something you make up, + O my mother dear.-- + With your arms around me, + Hold me, folded-eyed,-- + Only let your voice go on-- + I'll be satisfied. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THEREFORE READ NO LONGER."] + + * * * * * + + + +[Illustration: The TWINS] + + +"IGO AND AGO" + + + We're The Twins from Aunt Marinn's, + Igo and Ago. + When Dad comes, the show begins!-- + Iram, coram, dago. + + Dad he says he named us two + Igo and Ago + For a poem he always knew, + Iram, coram, dago. + + _Then_ he was a braw Scotchman-- + Igo and Ago.-- + _Now_ he's Scotch-Amer-i-can. + Iram, coram, dago. + + "Hey!" he cries, and pats his knee, + "Igo and Ago, + My twin bairnies, ride wi' me-- + Iram, coram, dago!" + +[Illustration] + + "Here," he laughs, "ye've each a leg, + Igo and Ago, + Gleg as Tam O'Shanter's 'Meg'! + Iram, coram, dago!" + + Then we mount, with shrieks of mirth-- + Igo and Ago,-- + The two gladdest twins on earth! + Iram, coram, dago. + + Wade and Silas-Walker cry,-- + "Igo and Ago-- + Annie's kissin' 'em 'good-bye'!"-- + Iram, coram, dago. + + Aunty waves us fond farewells.-- + "Igo and Ago," + Granny pipes, "tak care yersels!" + Iram, coram, dago. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE LITTLE LADY + + + O The Little Lady's dainty + As the picture in a book, + And her hands are creamy-whiter + Than the water-lilies look; + Her laugh's the undrown'd music + Of the maddest meadow-brook.-- + Yet all in vain I praise The Little Lady! + + Her eyes are blue and dewy + As the glimmering Summer-dawn,-- + Her face is like the eglantine + Before the dew is gone; + And were that honied mouth of hers + A bee's to feast upon, + He'd be a bee bewildered, Little Lady! + + Her brow makes light look sallow; + And the sunshine, I declare, + Is but a yellow jealousy + Awakened by her hair-- + For O the dazzling glint of it + Nor sight nor soul can bear,-- + So Love goes groping for The Little Lady. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "SHE'S BUT A RACING SCHOOL-GIRL."] + + * * * * * + + And yet she's neither Nymph nor Fay, + Nor yet of Angelkind:-- + She's but a racing school-girl, with + Her hair blown out behind + And tremblingly unbraided by + The fingers of the Wind, + As it wildly swoops upon The Little Lady. + + * * * * * + + + + +"COMPANY MANNERS" + + + When Bess gave her Dollies a Tea, said she,-- + "It's unpolite, when they's Company, + To say you've drinked _two_ cups, you see,-- + But say you've drinked _a couple_ of tea." + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + + +IN FERVENT PRAISE OF PICNICS + + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + Picnics is fun 'at's purty hard to beat. + I purt'-nigh ruther go to them than _eat_. + I purt'-nigh ruther go to them than go + With our Char_lot_ty to the Trick-Dog Show. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE GOOD, OLD-FASHIONED PEOPLE + + + When we hear Uncle Sidney tell + About the long-ago + An' old, old friends he loved so well + When _he_ was young--My-oh!-- + Us childern all wish _we'd 'a'_ bin + A-livin' then with Uncle,--so + We could a-kindo' happened in + On them old friends he used to know!-- + The good, old-fashioned people-- + The hale, hard-working people-- + The kindly country people + 'At Uncle used to know! + + They was God's people, Uncle says, + An' gloried in His name, + An' worked, without no selfishness, + An' loved their neighbers same + As they was kin: An' when they biled + Their tree-molasses, in the Spring, + Er butchered in the Fall, they smiled + An' sheered with all jist ever'thing!-- + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THEY WAS GOD'S PEOPLE."] + + * * * * * + + The good, old-fashioned people-- + The hale, hard-working people-- + The kindly country people + 'At Uncle used to know! + + He tells about 'em, lots o' times, + Till we'd all ruther hear + About 'em than the Nurs'ry Rhymes + Er Fairies--mighty near!-- + Only sometimes he stops so long + An' then talks on so low an' slow, + It's purt'-nigh sad as any song + To listen to him talkin' so + Of the good, old-fashioned people-- + The hale, hard-working people-- + The kindly country people + 'At Uncle used to know! + + * * * * * + + + + +THE BEST TIMES + + +[Illustration] + + _When Old Folks they wuz young like us_ + _An' little as you an' me_,-- + +[Illustration] + + _Them wuz the best times ever wuz_ + _Er ever goin' to be_! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THEM WUZ THE BEST TIMES EVER WUZ."] + + * * * * * + + + + +"HIK-TEE-DIK!" + +THE WAR-CRY OF BILLY AND BUDDY + + +[Illustration] + + When two little boys--renowned but for noise-- + Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!-- + May hurt a whole school, and the head it employs, + Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy! + Such loud and hilarious pupils indeed + Need learning--and yet something further they need, + Though fond hearts that love them may sorrow and bleed. + Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy! + + O the schoolmarm was cool, and in no wise a fool; + Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy! + And in ruling her ranks it was _her_ rule to _rule_; + Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy! + So when these two pupils conspired, every day, + Some mad piece of mischief, with whoop and hoo-ray, + That hurt yet defied her,--how happy were they!-- + Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy! + + At the ring of the bell they 'd rush in with a yell-- + Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy! + And they'd bang the school-door till the plastering fell, + Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy! + They'd clinch as they came, and pretend not to see + As they knocked her desk over--then, _My!_ and _O-me!_ + How awfully sorry they'd both seem to be! + Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy! + +[Illustration] + + This trick seemed so neat and so safe a conceit,-- + Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!-- + They played it three times--though the third they were beat; + Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy! + For the teacher, she righted her desk--raised the lid + And folded and packed away each little kid-- + Closed the incident so--yes, and locked it, she did-- + Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy! + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + + +A CHRISTMAS MEMORY + + + Pa he bringed me here to stay + 'Til my Ma she's well.--An' nen + He's go' hitch up, Chris'mus-day, + An' come take me back again + Wher' my Ma's at! Won't I be + Tickled when he comes fer me! + + My Ma an' my A'nty they + 'Uz each-uvver's sisters. Pa-- + A'nty telled me, th' other day,-- + He comed here an' married Ma.... + A'nty said nen, "Go run play, + I must work now!" ... An' I saw, + When she turn' her face away, + She 'uz cryin'.--An' nen I + 'Tend-like I "run play"--an' cry. + + This-here house o' A'nty's wher' + They 'uz borned--my Ma an' her!-- + An' her Ma 'uz my Ma's Ma, + An' her Pa 'uz my Ma's Pa-- + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "HE'S GO' HITCH UP, CHRIS'MUS-DAY, AN' COME TAKE ME BACK +AGAIN."] + + * * * * * + + Ain't that funny?--An' they're dead: + An' this-here's "th' ole Homestead."-- + An' my A'nty said, an' cried, + It's mine, too, ef my Ma died-- + Don't know what she mean--'cause my + Ma she's nuvver go' to die! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + When Pa bringed me here 't 'uz night-- + 'Way dark night! An' A'nty spread + Me a piece--an' light the light + An' say I must go to bed.-- + I cry not to---but Pa said, + "Be good boy now, like you telled + Mommy 'at you're go' to be!" + An', when he 'uz kissin' me + My good night, his cheeks' all wet + An' taste salty.--An' he held + Wite close to me an' rocked some + An' langhed-like--'til A'nty come + Git me while he's rockin' yet. + + A'nty he'p me, 'til I be + Purt'-nigh strip-pud--nen hug me + In bofe arms an' lif' me 'way + Up in her high bed--an' pray + Wiv me,--'bout my Ma--an' Pa-- + An' ole Santy Claus--an' Sleigh-- + An' Reindeers an' little Drum-- + Yes, an' Picture-books, "Tom Thumb," + An' "Three Bears," an' ole "Fee-Faw"-- + + Yes, an' "Tweedle-Dee" an' "Dum," + An' "White Knight" an' "Squidjicum," + An' most things you ever saw!-- + An' when A'nty kissed me, she + 'Uz all cryin' over me! + + Don't want Santy Claus--ner things + Any kind he ever brings!-- + Don't want A'nty!--Don't want Pa!-- + I ist only want my Ma! + + * * * * * + + + + +"OLD BOB WHITE" + + + Old Bob White's a funny bird!-- + Funniest you ever heard!-- + Hear him whistle,--"Old--Bob--_White_!" + You can hear him, clean from where + He's 'way 'crosst the wheat-field there, + Whistlin' like he didn't care-- + "Old-Bob-_White_!" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: WHEN WE DROVE TO HARMONY] + + * * * * * + + Whistles alluz ist the same-- + So's we won't fergit his name!-- + Hear him say it?--"Old--Bob--_White_!" + _There!_ he's whizzed off down the lane-- + Gone back where his folks is stayin'-- + Hear him?--There he goes again,-- + "Old--Bob--_White_!" + + When boys ever tries to git + Clos't to him--how quick he'll quit + Whistlin' his "Old-Bob--_White_!" + "_Whoo-rhoo-rhoo!_" he's up an' flew, + Ist a-purt'-nigh skeerin' you + Into fits!--'At's what he'll do.-- + "Old-Bob--_White_!" + + Wunst our Hired Man an' me, + When we drove to Harmony, + Saw one, whistlin' "Old--Bob--_White_!" + An' we drove _wite clos't_, an' I + Saw him an' he didn't fly,-- + Birds likes horses, an' that's why. + "Old--Bob--_White_!" + + One time, Uncle Sidney says, + Wunst he rob' a Bob White's nes' + Of the eggs of "Old Bob White"; + Nen he hatched 'em wiv a hen + An' her little chicks, an' nen + They ist all flewed off again! + "Old--Bob--_White_!" + + * * * * * + + + + +A SESSION WITH UNCLE SIDNEY + +[1869] + + +I + +ONE OF HIS ANIMAL STORIES + + + Now, Tudens, you sit on _this_ knee--and 'scuse + It having no side-saddle on;--and, Jeems, + You sit on _this_--and don't you wobble so + And chug my old shins with your coppertoes;-- + And, all the rest of you, range round someway,-- + Ride on the rockers and hang to the arms + Of our old-time splint-bottom carryall!-- + Do anything but _squabble_ for a place, + Or push or shove or scrouge, or breathe _out loud_, + Or chew wet, or knead taffy in my beard!-- + Do _any_thing almost--act _any_way,-- + Only _keep still_, so I can hear myself + Trying to tell you "just one story more!" + + One winter afternoon my father, with + A whistle to our dog, a shout to us-- + His two boys--six and eight years old we were,-- + Started off to the woods, a half a mile + From home, where he was chopping wood. We raced, + We slipped and slid; reaching, at last, the north + Side of Tharp's corn-field.--There we struck what seemed + To be a coon-track--so we all agreed: + And father, who was not a hunter, to + Our glad surprise, proposed we follow it. + The snow was quite five inches deep; and we, + Keen on the trail, were soon far in the woods. + Our old dog, "Ring," ran nosing the fresh track + With whimpering delight, far on ahead. + After following the trail more than a mile + To northward, through the thickest winter woods + We boys had ever seen,--all suddenly + He seemed to strike _another_ trail; and then + Our joyful attention was drawn to + Old "Ring"--leaping to this side, then to that, + Of a big, hollow, old oak-tree, which had + Been blown down by a storm some years before. + There--all at once--out leapt a lean old fox + From the black hollow of a big bent limb,-- + Hey! how he scudded!--but with our old "Ring" + Sharp after him--and father after "Ring"-- + We after father, near as we could hold! + And father noticed that the fox kept just + About four feet ahead of "Ring"--just _that_-- + No farther, and no nearer! Then he said:-- + "There are young foxes in that tree back there, + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "A BIG, HOLLOW, OLD OAK-TREE, WHICH HAD BEEN BLOWN DOWN +BY A STORM."] + + * * * * * + + And the mother-fox is drawing 'Ring' and us + Away from their nest there!" "Oh, le' 's go back!-- + Do le' 's go back!" we little vandals cried,-- + "Le' 's go back, quick, and find the little things-- + _Please_, father!--Yes, and take 'em home for pets-- + 'Cause 'Ring' he'll kill the old fox anyway!" + So father turned at last, and back we went, + And father chopped a hole in the old tree + About ten feet below the limb from which + The old fox ran, and--Bless their little lives!-- + There, in the hollow of the old tree-trunk-- + There, on a bed of warm dry leaves and moss-- + There, snug as any bug in any rug-- + We found--one--two--three--four, and, yes-sir, _five_ + Wee, weenty-teenty baby-foxes, with + Their eyes just barely opened--_Cute_?--my-oh!-- + _The_ cutest--the most cunning little things + Two boys ever saw, in all their lives! + "Raw weather for the little fellows _now_!" + Said father, as though talking to himself,-- + "Raw weather, and no home _now_!"--And off came + His warm old "waumus"; and in that he wrapped + The helpless little animals, and held + Them soft and warm against him as he could,-- + And home we happy children followed him.-- + _Old "Ring"_ did not reach home till nearly dusk: + The mother-fox had led him a long chase-- + + "Yes, and a fool's chase, too!" he seemed to say, + And looked ashamed to hear us _praising_ him. + But, _mother_--well, we _could not_ understand + _Her_ acting as she did--and we so _pleased_! + I can see yet the look of pained surprise + And deep compassion of her troubled face + When father very gently laid his coat, + With the young foxes in it, on the hearth + Beside her, as she brightened up the fire. + She urged--for the old fox's sake and theirs-- + That they be taken back to the old tree; + But father--for _our_ wistful sakes, no doubt-- + Said we would keep them, and would try our best + To raise them. And at once he set about + Building a snug home for the little things + Out of an old big bushel-basket, with + Its fractured handle and its stoven ribs: + So, lining and padding this all cosily, + He snuggled in its little tenants, and + Called in John Wesley Thomas, our hired man, + And gave him in full charge, with much advice + Regarding the just care and sustenance of + _Young_ foxes.--"John," he said, "you feed 'em _milk_-- + _Warm_ milk, John Wesley! Yes, and _keep 'em by_ + _The stove_--and keep your stove _a-roarin'_, too, + Both night and day!--And keep 'em _covered_ up-- + Not _smothered_, John, but snug and comfortable.-- + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THE YOUNG FOXES IN IT, ON THE HEARTH BESIDE HER."] + + * * * * * + + And now, John Wesley Thomas, first and last,-- + You feed 'em _milk_--_fresh_ milk--and always _warm_-- + Say five or six or seven times a day-- + Of course we'll grade that by the way they _thrive_." + But, for all sanguine hope, and care, as well, + The little fellows _did not_ thrive at all.-- + Indeed, with _all_ our care and vigilance, + By the third day of their captivity + The last survivor of the fated five + Squeaked, like some battered little rubber toy + Just clean worn out.--And that's just what it was! + + And--nights,--the cry of the mother-fox for her young + Was heard, with awe, for long weeks afterward. + And we boys, every night, would go to the door + And, peering out in the darkness, listening, + Could hear the poor fox in the black bleak woods + Still calling for her little ones in vain. + As, all mutely, we returned to the warm fireside, + Mother would say: "How would you like for _me_ + To be out there, this dark night, in the cold woods, + Calling for _my_ children?" + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + + +II + +UNCLE BRIGHTENS UP-- + + +[Illustration] + + Uncle he says 'at 'way down in the sea + Ever'thing's ist like it _used_ to be:-- + He says they's mermaids, an' mermens, too, + An' little merchildern, like me an' you-- + Little merboys, with tops an' balls, + An' little mergirls, with little merdolls. + +[Illustration] + + Uncle Sidney's vurry proud + Of little Leslie-Janey, + 'Cause she's so smart, an' goes to school + Clean 'way in Pennsylvany! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "AN' ALL BE POETS AN' ALL RECITE."] + + * * * * * + + She print' an' sent a postul-card + To Uncle Sidney, telling + How glad he'll be to hear that she + "Toock the onners in Speling." + + Uncle he learns us to rhyme an' write + An' all be poets an' all recite: + His little-est poet's his little-est niece, + An' this is her little-est poetry-piece. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + + +III + +SINGS A "WINKY-TOODEN" SONG-- + + +[Illustration] + + O here's a little rhyme for the Spring- or Summer-time-- + An a-ho-winky-tooden-an-a-ho!-- + Just a little bit o' tune you can twitter, May or June, + An a-ho-winky-tooden-an-a-ho! + It's a song that soars and sings, + As the birds that twang their wings + Or the katydids and things + Thus and so, don't you know, + An a-ho-winky-tooden-an-a-ho! + + It's a song just broken loose, with no reason or excuse-- + An a-ho-winky-tooden-an-a-ho! + You can sing along with it--or it matters not a bit-- + An a-ho-winky-tooden-an-a-ho! + It's a lovely little thing + That 'most any one could sing + With a ringle-dingle-ding, + Soft and low, don't you know, + An a-ho-winky-tooden-an-a-ho! + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration] + + + +IV + +AND MAKES NURSERY RHYMES + + + + +1 + +THE DINERS IN THE KITCHEN + + +[Illustration] + + Our dog Fred + Et the bread. + +[Illustration] + + Our dog Dash + Et the hash. + +[Illustration] + + Our dog Pete + Et the meat. + +[Illustration] + + Our dog Davy + Et the gravy. + +[Illustration] + + Our dog Toffy + Et the coffee. + +[Illustration] + + Our dog Jake + Et the cake. + +[Illustration] + + Our dog Trip + Et the dip. + + And--the worst, + From the first,-- + +[Illustration] + + Our dog Fido + Et the pie-dough. + + * * * * * + + + + +2 + +THE IMPERIOUS ANGLER + + + Miss Medairy Dory-Ann + Cast her line and caught a man, + +[Illustration] + + But when he looked so pleased, alack! + She unhooked and plunked him back.-- + "I never like to catch what I can," + Said Miss Medairy Dory-Ann. + + * * * * * + + + + +3 + +THE GATHERING OF THE CLANS + + +[_Voice from behind high board-fence_.] + +[Illustration] + + "Where's the crowd that dares to go + Where I dare to lead?--you know!" + +[Illustration] + + "Well, here's _one_!" + Shouts Ezry Dunn. + +[Illustration] + + "Count me _two_!" + Yells Cootsy Drew. + +[Illustration] + + "Here's yer _three_!" + Sings Babe Magee. + +[Illustration] + + "Score me _four_!" + Roars Leech-hole Moore. + +[Illustration] + + "Tally--_five_!" + Howls Jamesy Clive. + +[Illustration] + + "I make _six_!" + Chirps Herbert Dix. + +[Illustration] + + "Punctchul!--_seven_!" + Pipes Runt Replevin. + +[Illustration] + + "Mark me _eight_!" + Grunts Mealbag Nate. + +[Illustration] + + "I'm yet _nine_!" + Growls "Lud'rick" Stein. + +[Illustration] + + "Hi! here's _ten_!" + Whoops Catfish Ben. + +[Illustration] + + "And now we march, in daring line, + For the banks of Brandywine!" + + * * * * * + + + + +4 + +"IT" + + + A wee little worm in a hickory-nut + Sang, happy as he could be,-- + +[Illustration] + + "O I live in the heart of the whole round world, + And it all belongs to me!" + + * * * * * + + + + +5 + +THE DARING PRINCE + + + A daring prince, of the realm Rangg Dhune, + Once went up in a big balloon + +[Illustration] + + That caught and stuck on the horns of the moon, + And he hung up there till next day noon-- + When all at once he exclaimed, "Hoot-toot!" + And then came down in his parachute. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + + +A DUBIOUS "OLD KRISS" + + +[Illustration] + + Us-folks is purty _pore_--but Ma + She's waitin'--two years more--tel Pa + He serve his term out. Our Pa he-- + _He's in the Penitenchurrie_! + + Now don't you never _tell_!--'cause _Sis_, + The _baby_, _she_ don't know he is.-- + 'Cause she wuz only four, you know, + He kissed her last an' hat to go! + + Pa alluz liked Sis best of all + Us childern.--'Spect it's 'cause she fall + "When she'uz ist a _child_, one day-- + An' make her back look thataway. + + Pa--'fore he be a burglar--he's + A locksmiff, an' maked locks, an' keys, + An' knobs you pull fer bells to ring, + An' he could ist make _anything_!-- + +[Illustration] + + 'Cause our Ma say he can!--An' this + Here little pair o' crutches Sis + Skips round on--Pa maked _them_--yes-sir!-- + An' silivur-plate-name here fer her! + + Pa's out o' work when Chris'mus come + One time, an' stay away from home, + An' 's drunk an' 'buse our Ma, an' swear + They ain't no "Old Kriss" anywhere! + + An' Sis she alluz say they wuz + A' Old Kriss--an' she alluz does. + But ef they is a' Old Kriss, why, + When's Chris'mus, Ma she alluz cry? + + This Chris'mus _now_, we live here in + Where Ma's rent's alluz due ag'in-- + An' she "_ist slaves_"--I heerd her say + She did--ist them words thataway! + +[Illustration] + + An' th'other night, when all's so cold + An' stove's 'most out--our Ma she rolled + Us in th'old feather-bed an' said, + "To-morry's Chris'mus--go to bed, + + "An' thank yer blessed stars fer this-- + We don't _'spect_ nothin' from Old Kriss!" + An' cried, an' locked the door, an' prayed, + An' turned the lamp down.... An' I laid + + There, thinkin' in the dark ag'in, + "Ef _wuz_ Old Kriss, he can't git in, + 'Cause ain't no chimbly here at all-- + Ist old stovepipe stuck frue the wall!" + + I sleeped nen.--An' wuz dreamin' some + When I waked up an' morning's come,-- + Fer our Ma she wuz settin' square + Straight up in bed, a-readin' there + + Some letter 'at she 'd read, an' quit, + An' nen hold like she's huggin' it.-- + An' diamon' ear-rings she don't _know_ + Wuz in her ears tel I say so-- + + An' wake the rest up. An' the sun + In frue the winder dazzle-un + Them eyes o' Sis's, wiv a sure- + Enough gold chain Old Kriss bringed to 'er! + + An' _all_ of us git gold things!--Sis, + Though, say she know it "_ain't_ Old Kriss-- + He kissed her, so she waked an' saw + Him skite out--an' it wuz her Pa." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "ALONG THE BRINK OF WILD BROOK-WAY."] + + * * * * * + + + + +A SONG OF SINGING + + + Sing! gangling lad, along the brink + Of wild brook-ways of shoal and deep, + Where killdees dip, and cattle drink, + And glinting little minnows leap! + Sing! slimpsy lass who trips above + And sets the foot-log quivering! + Sing! bittern, bumble-bee, and dove-- + Sing! Sing! Sing! + + Sing as you will, O singers all + Who sing because you _want_ to sing! + Sing! peacock on the orchard wall, + Or tree-toad by the trickling spring! + Sing! every bird on every bough-- + Sing! every living, loving thing-- + Sing any song, and anyhow, + But Sing! Sing! Sing! + + * * * * * + + + + +THE JAYBIRD + + + The Jaybird he's my _favorite_ + Of all the birds they is! + I think he's quite a stylish sight + In that blue suit of his: + An' when he' lights an' shuts his wings, + His coat's a "cutaway"-- + I guess it's only when he sings + You'd know he wuz a jay. + + I like to watch him when he's lit + In top of any tree, + 'Cause all birds git wite out of it + When _he_ 'lights, an' they see + How proud he act', an' swell an' spread + His chest out more an' more, + An' raise the feathers on his head + Like it's cut pompadore! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "I LIKE TO WATCH HIM."] + + * * * * * + + + + +A BEAR FAMILY + + +[Illustration] + + Wunst, 'way West in Illinoise, + Wuz two Bears an' their two boys: + An' the two boys' names, you know, + Wuz--like _ours_ is,--Jim an' Jo; + An' their _parunts'_ names wuz same's, + All big grown-up people's names,-- + Ist _Miz_ Bear, the neighbers call + 'Em, an' _Mister_ Bear--'at's all. + Yes--an' Miz Bear scold him, too, + Ist like grown folks _shouldn't_ do! + +[Illustration] + + Wuz a grea'-big river there, + An', 'crosst that, 's a mountain where + Old Bear said some day he'd go, + Ef she don't quit scoldin'so! + So, one day when he been down + The river, fishin', 'most to town, + An' come back 'thout no fish a-tall, + An' Jim an' Jo they run an' bawl + An' tell their ma their pa hain't fetch' + No fish,--she scold again an' ketch + Her old broom up an' biff him, too.-- + +[Illustration] + + An' he ist cry, an' say, "_Boo-hoo_! + I _told_ you what I 'd do some day'." + An' he ist turned an' runned away + To where's the grea'-big river there, + An' ist _splunged_ in an' swum to where + The mountain's at, 'way th'other side, + An' clumbed up there. An' Miz Bear _cried_-- + An' little Jo an' little Jim-- + Ist like their ma--bofe cried fer him!-- + But he clumbed on, _clean out o' sight_, + He wuz so mad!--An' served 'em right! + + Nen--when the Bear got 'way on top + The mountain, he heerd somepin' flop + Its wings--an' somepin' else he heerd + A-rattlin'-like.--An' he wuz _skeerd_, + An' looked 'way up, an'--_Mercy sake!_-- + +[Illustration] + + It wuz a' Eagul an' a SNAKE! + An'-sir! the Snake, he bite an' kill' + The Eagul, an' they bofe fall till + They strike the ground--_k'spang-k'spat!_-- + Wite where the Bear wuz standin' at! + An' when here come the Snake at him, + The Bear he think o' little Jim + An' Jo, he did--an' their ma, too,-- + All safe at home; an' he ist flew + Back down the mountain--an' could hear + The old Snake rattlin', sharp an' clear, + Wite clos't behind!--An' Bear he's so + All tired out, by time, you know, + He git down to the river there, + He know' he can't _swim_ back to where + His folks is at. But ist wite nen + He see a boat an' six big men + +[Illustration] + + 'At's been a-shootin' ducks: An' so + He skeerd them out the boat, you know, + An' ist jumped in--an' Snake _he_ tried + To jump in, too, but failed outside + Where all the water wuz; an' so + The Bear grabs one the things you row + The boat wiv an' ist whacks the head + Of the old Snake an' kills him dead!-- + + An' when he's killed him dead, w'y, nen + _The old Snake's drownded dead again_! + Nen Bear set in the boat an' bowed + His back an' rowed--an' rowed--an' rowed-- + Till he's safe home--so tired he can't + Do nothin' but lay there an' pant + An' tell his childern, "Bresh my coat!" + An' tell his wife, "Go chain my boat!" + An' they're so glad he's back, they say + "They _knowed_ he's comin' thataway + To ist surprise the dear ones there!" + An' Jim an' Jo they dried his hair + +[Illustration] + + An' pulled the burrs out; an' their ma + She ist set there an' helt his paw + Till he wuz sound asleep, an' nen + She tell' him she won't scold again-- + Never--never--never-- + Ferever an' ferever! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: SOME SONGS AFTER MASTER SINGERS] + + + + +SOME SONGS AFTER MASTER SINGERS + + +I + +SONG + +[W.S.] + + + With a hey! and a hi! and a hey-ho rhyme! + O the shepherd lad + He is ne'er so glad + As when he pipes, in the blossom-time, + So rare! + While Kate picks by, yet looks not there. + So rare! so rare! + _With a hey! and a hi! and a ho!_ + _The grasses curdle where the daisies blow!_ + + With a hey! and a hi! and a hey-ho vow! + Then he sips her face + At the sweetest place-- + And ho! how white is the hawthorn now!-- + So rare!-- + And the daisied world rocks round them there. + So rare! so rare! + _With a hey! and a hi! and a ho!_ + _The grasses curdle where the daisies blow!_ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "WHILE KATE PICKS BY, YET LOOKS NOT THERE."] + + * * * * * + + + + +II + +TO THE CHILD JULIA + +[R.H.] + + + Little Julia, since that we + May not as our elders be, + Let us blithely fill the days + Of our youth with pleasant plays. + First we'll up at earliest dawn, + While as yet the dew is on + The sooth'd grasses and the pied + Blossomings of morningtide; + Next, with rinsed cheeks that shine + As the enamell'd eglantine, + We will break our fast on bread + With both cream and honey spread; + Then, with many a challenge-call, + We will romp from house and hall, + Gypsying with the birds and bees + Of the green-tress'd garden trees. + In a bower of leaf and vine + Thou shalt be a lady fine + Held in duress by the great + Giant I shall personate. + Next, when many mimics more + Like to these we have played o'er, + +[Illustration] + + We'll betake us home-along + Hand in hand at evensong. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + + +III + +THE DOLLY'S MOTHER + +[W.W.] + + + A little maid, of summers four-- + Did you compute her years,-- + And yet how infinitely more + To me her age appears: + + I mark the sweet child's serious air, + At her unplayful play,-- + The tiny doll she mothers there + And lulls to sleep away, + + Grows--'neath the grave similitude-- + An infant real, to me, + And _she_ a saint of motherhood + In hale maturity. + +[Illustration] + + So, pausing in my lonely round, + And all unseen of her, + I stand uncovered--her profound + And abject worshipper. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "LEND ME THE BREATH OF A FRESHENING GALE."] + + * * * * * + + + + +IV + +WIND OF THE SEA + +[A.T.] + + + Wind of the Sea, come fill my sail-- + Lend me the breath of a freshening gale + And bear my port-worn ship away! + For O the greed of the tedious town-- + The shutters up and the shutters down! + Wind of the Sea, sweep over the bay + And bear me away!--away! + + Whither you bear me, Wind of the Sea, + Matters never the least to me: + Give me your fogs, with the sails adrip, + Or the weltering path thro' the starless night-- + On, somewhere, is a new daylight + And the cheery glint of another ship + As its colors dip and dip! + +[Illustration] + + Wind of the Sea, sweep over the bay + And bear me away!--away! + + * * * * * + + + + +V + +SUBTLETY + +[R.B.] + + + Whilst little Paul, convalescing, was staying + Close indoors, and his boisterous classmates paying + +[Illustration] + + Him visits, with fresh school-notes and surprises,-- + With nettling pride they sprung the word "Athletic," + With much advice and urgings sympathetic + Anent "Athletic exercises." Wise as + Lad might look, quoth Paul: "I've pondered o'er that + 'Athletic,' but I mean to take, before that, + Downstairic and outdooric exercises." + + * * * * * + + + + +VI + +BORN TO THE PURPLE + +[W.M.] + + + Most-like it was this kingly lad + Spake out of the pure joy he had + In his child-heart of the wee maid + Whose eerie beauty sudden laid + A spell upon him, and his words + Burst as a song of any bird's:-- + + A peerless Princess thou shalt be, + Through wit of love's rare sorcery: + To crown the crown of thy gold hair + Thou shalt have rubies, bleeding there + Their crimson splendor midst the marred + Pulp of great pearls, and afterward + +[Illustration] + + Leaking in fainter ruddy stains + Adown thy neck-and-armlet-chains + Of turquoise, chrysoprase, and mad + Light-frenzied diamonds, dartling glad + Swift spirts of shine that interfuse + As though with lucent crystal dews + That glance and glitter like split rays + Of sunshine, born of burgeoning Mays + When the first bee tilts down the lip + Of the first blossom, and the drip + Of blended dew and honey heaves + Him blinded midst the underleaves. + For raiment, Fays shall weave for thee-- + Out of the phosphor of the sea + And the frayed floss of starlight, spun + With counterwarp of the firm sun-- + A vesture of such filmy sheen + As, through all ages, never queen + Therewith strove truly to make less + One fair line of her loveliness. + Thus gowned and crowned with gems and gold, + Thou shalt, through centuries untold, + Rule, ever young and ever fair, + As now thou rulest, smiling there. + + * * * * * + + + + +OLD MAN WHISKERY-WHEE-KUM-WHEEZE + + + Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze + Lives 'way up in the leaves o' trees. + An' wunst I slipped up-stairs to play + In Aunty's room, while she 'uz away; + An' I clumbed up in her cushion-chair + An' ist peeked out o' the winder there; + An' there I saw--wite out in the trees-- + Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze! + + An' Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze + Would bow an' bow, with the leaves in the breeze, + An' waggle his whiskers an' raggledy hair, + An' bow to me in the winder there! + An' I 'd peek out, an' he'd peek in + An' waggle his whiskers an' bow ag'in, + Ist like the leaves'u'd wave in the breeze-- + Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "BOW TO ME IN THE WINDER THERE!"] + + * * * * * + + An' Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze, + Seem-like, says to me: "See my bees + A-bringin' my dinner? An' see my cup + O' locus'-blossoms they've plum' filled up?" + An' "_Um-yum, honey!_" wuz last he said, + An' waggled his whiskers an' bowed his head; + An' I yells, "Gimme some, won't you, please, + Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze?" + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration] + + + + +LITTLE-GIRL-TWO-LITTLE-GIRLS + + + I'm twins, I guess, 'cause my Ma say + I'm two little girls. An' one o' me + Is _Good_ little girl; an' th'other 'n' she + Is _Bad little girl as she can be!_ + An' Ma say so, 'most ever' day. + + An' she's the _funniest_ Ma! 'Cause when + My Doll won't mind, an' I ist cry, + W'y, nen my Ma she sob an' sigh, + An' say, "Dear _Good_ little girl, good-bye!-- + _Bad_ little girl's comed here again!" + + Last time 'at Ma act' thataway, + I cried all to myse'f awhile + Out on the steps, an' nen I smile, + An' git my Doll all fix' in style, + An' go in where Ma's at, an' say: + _"Morning to you, Mommy dear_! + _Where's that Bad little girl wuz here_? + _Bad little girl's goned clean away_, + _An' Good little girl's comed back to stay."_ + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + + +A GUSTATORY ACHIEVEMENT + + + Last Thanksgivin'-dinner we + Et at Granny's house, an' she + +[Illustration] + + Had--ist like she alluz does-- + Most an' best pies ever wuz. + + Canned _black_ burry-pie an' _goose_ + Burry, squshin'-full o' juice; + An' _roz_burry--yes, an' plum-- + Yes, an' _churry_-pie--_um-yum_! + + Peach an' punkin, too, you bet. + Lawzy! I kin taste 'em yet! + Yes, an' _custard_-pie, an' _mince!_ + + * * * * * + + An'--I--_ain't_--et--no--pie--since! + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + + +CLIMATIC SORCERY + + + When frost's all on our winder, an' the snow's + All out-o'-doors, our "Old-Kriss"-milkman goes + A-drivin' round, ist purt'-nigh froze to death, + With his old white mustache froze full o' breath. + + But when it's summer an' all warm ag'in, + He comes a-whistlin' an' a-drivin in + Our alley, 'thout no coat on, ner ain't cold, + Ner his mustache ain't white, ner he ain't old. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "OUR 'OLD-KRISS'-MILKMAN."] + + * * * * * + + + + +A PARENT REPRIMANDED + + + Sometimes I think 'at Parents does + Things ist about as bad as _us_-- + +[Illustration] + + Wite 'fore our vurry eyes, at that! + Fer one time Pa he scold' my Ma + 'Cause he can't find his hat; + An' she ist _cried_, she did! An' I + Says, "Ef you scold my Ma + Ever again an' make her cry, + Wy, you sha'n't _be_ my Pa!" + An' nen he laugh' an' find his hat + Ist wite where Ma she said it's at! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THE CHILDISH DREAMS IN HIS WISE OLD HEAD."] + + * * * * * + + + + +THE TREASURE OF THE WISE MAN + + + O the night was dark and the night was late, + And the robbers came to rob him; + And they picked the locks of his palace-gate, + The robbers that came to rob him-- + They picked the locks of his palace-gate, + Seized his jewels and gems of state, + His coffers of gold and his priceless plate,-- + The robbers that came to rob him. + + But loud laughed he in the morning red!-- + For of what had the robbers robbed him?-- + Ho! hidden safe, as he slept in bed, + When the robbers came to rob him,-- + They robbed him not of a golden shred + Of the childish dreams in his wise old head-- + "And they're welcome to all things else," he said, + When the robbers came to rob him. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration] + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Book of Joyous Children +by James Whitcomb Riley + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN *** + +***** This file should be named 15834.txt or 15834.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/8/3/15834/ + +Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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