Chapter 3
'Twas then the Jolly Miller he trimbled and he quailed-- And his wife choked until her breath come back, 'n' she _wailed!_ And "_O!"_ cried she, "it is _the Flea_, All white and pale and wann-- He's got you in his clutches, and _He's bigger than a man!_"
"_Ho! ho! my Jolly Miller," (fer 'twas the Flea, fer shore!) "I reckon you'll not rack my bones ner scrunch 'em any more!_" And then _the Ghost_ he grabbed him clos't, With many a ghastly smile, And from the doorstep stooped and hopped About four hundred mile!
OUR HIRED GIRL
Our hired girl, she's 'Lizabuth Ann; An' she can cook best things to eat! She ist puts dough in our pie-pan, An' pours in somepin' 'at's good and sweet, An' nen she salts it all on top With cinnamon; an' nen she'll stop An' stoop an' slide it, ist as slow, In th' old cook-stove, so's 'twon't slop An' git all spilled; nen bakes it, so It's custard pie, first thing you know! An' nen she'll say: "Clear out o' my way! They's time fer work, an' time fer play!-- Take yer dough, an' run, Child; run! Er I cain't git no cookin' done!"
When our hired girl 'tends like she's mad, An' says folks got to walk the chalk When _she's_ around, er wisht they had, I play out on our porch an' talk To th' Raggedy Man 'at mows our lawn; An' he says "_Whew!"_ an' nen leans on His old crook-scythe, and blinks his eyes An' sniffs all around an' says,--"I swawn! Ef my old nose don't tell me lies, It 'pears like I smell custard-pies!" An' nen _he'll_ say,-- "'Clear out' o' my way! They's time fer work an' time fer play! Take yer dough, an' run, Child; run! Er _she_ cain't git no cookin' done!'"
Wunst our hired girl, one time when she Got the supper, an' we all et, An' it was night, an' Ma an' me An' Pa went wher' the "Social" met,-- An' nen when we come home, an' see A light in the kitchen-door, an' we Heerd a maccordeum, Pa says "Lan'-- O'Gracious! who can _her_ beau be?" An' I marched in, an' 'Lizabuth Ann Wuz parchin' corn fer the Raggedy Man! _Better_ say "Clear out o' the way! They's time fer work, an' time fer play! Take the hint, an' run, Child; run! Er we cain't git no _courtin_' done!'"
THE BOYS' CANDIDATE
Las' time 'at Uncle Sidney come, He bringed a watermelon home-- An' half the boys in town, Come taggin' after him.--An' he Says, when we et it,--_"Gracious me! 'S the boy-house fell down?"_
THE PET COON
Noey Bixler ketched him, and fetched him in to me When he's ist a little teenty-weenty baby-coon 'Bout as big as little pups, an' tied him to a tree; An' Pa gived Noey fifty cents, when he come home at noon. Nen he buyed a chain fer him, an' little collar, too, An' sawed a hole in a' old tub an' turnt it upside-down; An' little feller'd stay in there and won't come out fer you-- 'Tendin' like he's kindo' skeered o' boys 'at lives in town.
_Now_ he aint afeard a bit! he's ist so fat an' tame, We on'y chain him up at night, to save the little chicks. Holler "Greedy! Greedy!" to him, an' he knows his name, An' here he'll come a-waddle-un, up fer any tricks! He'll climb up my leg, he will, an' waller in my lap, An' poke his little black paws 'way in my pockets where They's beechnuts, er chinkypins, er any little scrap Of anything, 'at's good to eat--an' _he_ don't care!
An' he's as spunky as you please, an' don't like dogs at all.-- Billy Miller's black-an'-tan tackled him one day, An' "Greedy" he ist kindo' doubled all up like a ball, An' Billy's dog he gived a yelp er two an' runned away! An' nen when Billy fighted me, an' hit me with a bone, An' Ma she purt'nigh ketched him as he dodged an' skooted thro' The fence, she says, "You better let my little boy alone, Er 'Greedy,' next he whips yer dog, shall whip you, too!"
THE OLD HAY-MOW
The Old Hay-mow's the place to play Fer boys, when it's a rainy day! I good-'eal ruther be up there Than down in town, er anywhere!
When I play in our stable-loft, The good old hay's so dry an' soft, An' feels so fine, an' smells so sweet, I 'most ferget to go an' eat.
An' one time wunst I _did_ ferget To go 'tel dinner was all et,-- An' they had short-cake--an'--Bud he Hogged up the piece Ma saved fer me!
Nen I won't let him play no more In our hay-mow where I keep store An' got hen-eggs to sell,--an' shoo The cackle-un old hen out, too!
An' nen, when Aunty she was here A-visitun from Rensselaer, An' bringed my little cousin,--_he_ Can come up there an' play with me.
But, after while--when Bud he bets 'At I can't turn no summersetts,-- I let him come up, ef he can Ac' ha'f-way like a gentleman!
ON THE SUNNY SIDE
Hi and whoop-hooray, boys! Sing a song of cheer! Here's a holiday, boys, Lasting half a year! Round the world, and half is Shadow we have tried; Now we're where the laugh is,-- On the sunny side!
Pigeons coo and mutter, Strutting high aloof Where the sunbeans flutter Through the stable roof. Hear the chickens cheep, boys, And the hen with pride Clucking them to sleep, boys, On the sunny side!
Hear the clacking guinea; Hear the cattle moo; Hear the horses whinny, Looking out at you! On the hitching-block, boys, Grandly satisfied, See the old peacock, boys, On the sunny side!
Robins in the peach-tree; Bluebirds in the pear; Blossoms over each tree In the orchard there! All the world's in joy, boys, Glad and glorified As a romping boy, boys, On the sunny side!
Where's a heart as mellow? Where's a soul as free? Where is any fellow We would rather be? Just ourselves or none, boys, World around and wide, Laughing in the sun, boys, On the sunny side!
A SUDDEN SHOWER
Barefooted boys scud up the street Or skurry under sheltering sheds; And schoolgirl faces, pale and sweet, Gleam from the shawls about their heads.
Doors bang; and mother-voices call From alien homes; and rusty gates Are slammed; and high above it all, The thunder grim reverberates.
And then, abrupt,--the rain! the rain!-- The earth lies gasping; and the eyes Behind the streaming window-pane Smile at the trouble of the skies.
The highway smokes; sharp echoes ring; The cattle bawl and cowbells clank; And into town comes galloping The farmer's horse, with streaming flank.
The swallow dips beneath the eaves, And flirts his plumes and folds his wings; And under the catawba leaves The caterpillar curls and clings.
The bumble-bee is pelted down The wet stem of the hollyhock; And sullenly, in spattered brown, The cricket leaps the garden walk.
Within, the baby claps his hands And crows with rapture strange and vague; Without, beneath the rosebush stands A dripping rooster on one leg.
GRANDFATHER SQUEERS
"My grandfather Squeers," said The Raggedy Man, As he solemnly lighted his pipe and began--
"The most indestructible man, for his years, And the grandest on earth, was my grandfather Squeers!
"He said, when he rounded his three-score-and-ten, 'I've the hang of it now and can do it again!'
"He had frozen his heels so repeatedly, he Could tell by them just what the weather would be;
"And would laugh and declare, 'while the _Almanac_ would Most falsely prognosticate, _he_ never could!'
"Such a hale constitution had grandfather Squeers That, 'though he'd used '_navy_' for sixty odd years,
"He still chewed a dime's-worth six days of the week, While the seventh he passed with a chew in each cheek:
"Then my grandfather Squeers had a singular knack Of sitting around on the small of his back,
"With his legs like a letter Y stretched o'er the grate Wherein 'twas his custom to ex-pec-tor-ate.
"He was fond of tobacco in _manifold_ ways, And would sit on the door-step, of sunshiny days,
"And smoke leaf-tobacco he'd raised strictly for The pipe he'd used all through The Mexican War."
And The Raggedy Man said, refilling the bowl Of his own pipe and leisurely picking a coal
From the stove with his finger and thumb, "You can see What a tee-nacious habit he's fastened on me!
"And my grandfather Squeers took a special delight In pruning his corns every Saturday night
"With a horn-handled razor, whose edge he excused By saying 'twas one that his grandfather used;
"And, though deeply etched in the haft of the same Was the ever-euphonious Wostenholm's name,
"'Twas my grandfather's custom to boast of the blade As 'A Seth Thomas razor--the best ever made!'
"No Old Settlers' Meeting, or Pioneers' Fair, Was complete without grandfather Squeers in the chair
"To lead off the programme by telling folks how 'He used to shoot deer where the Court-House stands now'--
"How 'he felt, of a truth, to live over the past, When the country was wild and unbroken and vast,
"'That the little log cabin was just plenty fine For himself, his companion, and fambly of nine!--
"'When they didn't have even a pump, or a tin, But drunk surface-water, year out and year in,
"'From the old-fashioned gourd that was sweeter, by odds, Than the goblets of gold at the lips of the gods!'"
Then The Raggedy Man paused to plaintively say It was clockin' along to'rds the close of the day--
And he'd _ought_ to get back to his work on the lawn,-- Then dreamily blubbered his pipe and went on:
"His teeth were imperfect--my grandfather owned That he couldn't eat oysters unless they were 'boned';
"And his eyes were so weak, and so feeble of sight, He couldn't sleep with them unless, every night,
"He put on his spectacles--all he possessed,-- Three pairs--with his goggles on top of the rest.
"And my grandfather always, retiring at night, Blew down the lamp-chimney to put out the light;
"Then he'd curl up on edge like a shaving, in bed, And puff and smoke pipes in his sleep, it is said:
"And would snore oftentimes as the legends relate, Till his folks were wrought up to a terrible state,--
"Then he'd snort, and rear up, and roll over; and there, In the subsequent hush they could hear him chew air.
"And so glaringly bald was the top of his head That many's the time he has musingly said,
"As his eyes journeyed o'er its reflex in the glass,-- 'I must set out a few signs of _Keep Off the Grass!_'
"So remarkably deaf was my grandfather Squeers That he had to wear lightning-rods over his ears
"To even hear thunder--and oftentimes then He was forced to request it to thunder again."
THE PIXY PEOPLE
It was just a very Merry fairy dream!-- All the woods were airy With the gloom and gleam; Crickets in the clover Clattered clear and strong, And the bees droned over Their old honey-song.
In the mossy passes, Saucy grasshoppers Leapt about the grasses And the thistle-burs; And the whispered chuckle Of the katydid Shook the honeysuckle Blossoms where he hid.
Through the breezy mazes Of the lazy June, Drowsy with the hazes Of the dreamy noon, Little Pixy people Winged above the walk, Pouring from the steeple Of a mullein-stalk.
One--a gallant fellow-- Evidently King,-- Wore a plume of yellow In a jewelled ring On a pansy bonnet, Gold and white and blue, With the dew still on it, And the fragrance, too.
One--a dainty lady,-- Evidently Queen,-- Wore a gown of shady Moonshine and green, With a lace of gleaming Starlight that sent All the dewdrops dreaming Everywhere she went.
One wore a waistcoat Of roseleaves, out and in, And one wore a faced-coat Of tiger-lily-skin; And one wore a neat coat Of palest galingale; And one a tiny street-coat, And one a swallow-tail.
And Ho! sang the King of them, And Hey! sang the Queen; And round and round the ring of them Went dancing o'er the green; And Hey! sang the Queen of them, And Ho! sang the King-- And all that I had seen of them --Wasn't anything!
It was just a very Merry fairy dream!-- All the woods were airy With the gloom and gleam; Crickets in the clover Clattered clear and strong, And the bees droned over Their old honey-song!
A LIFE-LESSON
There! little girl; don't cry! They have broken your doll, I know; And your tea-set blue, And your play-house, too, Are things of the long ago; But childish troubles will soon pass by.-- There! little girl; don't cry!
There! little girl; don't cry! They have broken your slate, I know; And the glad, wild ways Of your school-girl days Are things of the long ago; But life and love will soon come by.-- There! little girl; don't cry!
There! little girl; don't cry! They have broken your heart, I know; And the rainbow gleams Of your youthful dreams Are things of the long ago; But Heaven holds all for which you sigh.-- There! little girl; don't cry!
A HOME-MADE FAIRY-TALE
Bud, come here to your Uncle a spell, And I'll tell you something you mustn't tell-- For it's a secret and shore-nuff true, And maybe I oughtn't to tell it to you!-- But out in the garden, under the shade Of the apple-trees where we romped and played Till the moon was up, and you thought I'd gone Fast asleep.--That was all put on! For I was a-watchin' something queer Goin' on there in the grass, my dear! 'Way down deep in it, there I see A little dude-Fairy who winked at me, And snapped his fingers, and laughed as low And fine as the whine of a mus-kee-to! I kept still--watchin' him closer--and I noticed a little guitar in his hand, Which he leant 'ginst a little dead bee--and laid His cigarette down on a clean grass-blade; And then climbed up on the shell of a snail-- Carefully dusting his swallowtail-- And pulling up, by a waxed web-thread, This little guitar, you remember, I said! And there he trinkled and trilled a tune-- "My Love, so Fair, Tans in the Moon!" Till presently, out of the clover-top He seemed to be singing to, came k'pop! The purtiest, daintiest Fairy face In all this world, or any place! Then the little ser'nader waved his hand, As much as to say, "We'll excuse _you_!" and I heard, as I squinted my eyelids to, A kiss like the drip of a drop of dew!
THE BEAR STORY
THAT ALEX "IST MAKED UP HIS-OWN-SE'F"
W'y, wunst they wuz a Little Boy went out In the woods to shoot a Bear. So, he went out 'Way in the grea'-big woods--he did.--An' he Wuz goin' along--an' goin' along, you know, An' purty soon he heerd somepin' go "_Wooh!"_-- Ist thataway--"_Woo-ooh!"_ An' he wuz _skeered_, He wuz. An' so he runned an' clumbed a tree-- A grea'-big tree, he did,--a sicka-_more_ tree. An' nen he heerd it ag'in: an' he looked round, An' _'t'uz a Bear!--a grea'-big shore-nuff Bear!_-- No: 't'uz _two_ Bears, it wuz--two grea'-big Bears-- _One_ of 'em wuz--ist _one's_ a _grea'-big_ Bear.-- But they ist _boff_ went "_Wooh!_"--An' here _they_ come To climb the tree an' git the Little Boy An' eat him up!
An' nen the Little Boy He 'uz skeered worse'n ever! An' here come The grea'-big Bear a-climbin' th' tree to git The Little Boy an' eat him up--Oh, _no!_-- It 'uzn't the _Big_ Bear 'at clumb the tree-- It 'uz the _Little_ Bear. So here _he_ come Climbin' the tree--an' climbin' the tree! Nen when He git wite _clos't_ to the Little Boy, w'y nen The Little Boy he ist pulled up his gun An' _shot_ the Bear, he did, an' killed him dead! An' nen the Bear he falled clean on down out The tree--away clean to the ground, he did-- _Spling-splung!_ he falled _plum_ down, an' killed him, too! An' lit wite side o' where the _Big_ Bear's at.
An' nen the Big Bear's awful mad, you bet!-- 'Cause--'cause the Little Boy he shot his gun An' killed the _Little_ Bear.--'Cause the _Big_ Bear He--he 'uz the Little Bear's Papa.--An' so here _He_ come to climb the big old tree an' git The Little Boy an' eat him up! An' when The Little Boy he saw the _grea'-big Bear_ A-comin', he uz badder skeered, he wuz, Than _any_ time! An' so he think he'll climb Up _higher_--'way up higher in the tree Than the old _Bear_ kin climb, you know.--But he-- He _can't_ climb higher 'an old _Bears_ kin climb,-- 'Cause Bears kin climb up higher in the trees Than any little Boys in all the Wo-r-r-ld!
An' so here come the grea'-big-Bear, he did,-- A-climbin' up--an' up the tree, to git The Little Boy an' eat him up! An' so The Little Boy he clumbed on higher, an' higher, An' higher up the tree--an' higher--an' higher-- An' higher'n iss-here _house_ is!--An' here come Th' old Bear--clos'ter to him all the time!-- An' nen--first thing you know,--when th' old Big Bear Wuz wite clos't to him--nen the Little Boy Ist jabbed his gun wite in the old Bear's mouf An' shot an' killed him dead!--No; I _fergot_,-- He didn't shoot the grea'-big Bear at all-- 'Cause _they 'uz no load in the gun_, you know-- 'Cause when he shot the _Little_ Bear, w'y, nen No load 'uz anymore nen _in_ the gun!
But th' Little Boy clumbed _higher_ up, he did-- He clumbed _lots_ higher--an' on up _higher_--an' higher An' _higher_--tel he ist _can't_ climb no higher, 'Cause nen the limbs 'uz all so little, 'way Up in the teeny-weeny tip-top of The tree, they'd break down wiv him ef he don't Be keerful! So he stop an' think: An' nen He look around--An' here come th' old Bear!
An' so the Little Boy make up his mind He's got to ist git out o' there _some_ way!-- 'Cause here come the old Bear!--so clos't, his bref's Purt 'nigh so's he kin feel how hot it is Ag'inst his bare feet--ist like old "Ring's" bref When he's ben out a-huntin' an's all tired. So when th' old Bear's so clos't--the Little Boy Ist gives a grea'-big jump fer '_nother_ tree-- No!--no he don't do that!--I tell you what The Little Boy does:--W'y, nen--w'y, he--Oh, _yes_-- The Little Boy _he finds a hole up there 'At's in the tree_--an' climbs in there an' _hides_-- An' _nen_ th' old Bear can't find the Little Boy At all!--But, purty soon th' old Bear finds The Little Boy's _gun_ 'at's up there--'cause the _gun_ It's too _tall_ to tooked wiv him in the hole. So, when the old Bear fin' the _gun_, he knows The Little Boy's ist _hid_ 'round _somers_ there,-- An' th' old Bear 'gins to snuff an' sniff around, An' sniff an' snuff around--so's he kin find Out where the Little Boy's hid at.--An' nen--nen-- Oh, _yes!_--W'y, purty soon the old Bear climbs 'Way out on a big limb--a grea'-long limb,-- An' nen the Little Boy climbs out the hole An' takes his ax an' chops the limb off!... Nen The old Bear falls _k-splunge!_ clean to the ground An' bust an' kill hisse'f plum dead, he did!
An' nen the Little Boy he git his gun An' 'menced a-climbin' down the tree ag'in-- No!--no, he _didn't_ git his _gun_--'cause when The _Bear_ falled, nen the _gun_ falled, too--An' broked It all to pieces, too!--An' _nicest_ gun!-- His Pa ist buyed it!--An' the Little Boy Ist cried, he did; an' went on climbin' down The tree--an' climbin' down--an' climbin' down!-- _An'-sir!_ when he 'uz purt'-nigh down,--w'y, nen _The old Bear he jumped up ag'in_--an' he Ain't dead at all--ist _'tendin'_ thataway, So he kin git the Little Boy an' eat Him up! But the Little Boy he 'uz too smart To climb clean _down_ the tree.--An' the old Bear He can't climb _up_ the tree no more--'cause when He fell, he broke one of his--he broke _all_ His legs!--an' nen he _couldn't_ climb! But he Ist won't go'way an' let the Little Boy Come down out of the tree. An' the old Bear Ist growls 'round there, he does--ist growls an' goes "_Wooh!--woo-ooh!"_ all the time! An' Little Boy He haf to stay up in the tree--all night-- An' 'thout no _supper_ neether!--On'y they Wuz _apples_ on the tree!--An' Little Boy Et apples--ist all night--an' cried--an' cried! Nen when 'tuz morning th' old Bear went _"Wooh!"_ Ag'in, an' try to climb up in the tree An' git the Little Boy.--But he _can't_ Climb t'save his _soul_, he can't!--An' _oh!_ he's _mad!_-- He ist tear up the ground! an' go _"Woo-ooh!"_ An'--_Oh, yes!_--purty soon, when morning's come All _light_--so's you kin _see_, you know,--w'y, nen The old Bear finds the Little Boy's _gun_, you know, 'At's on the ground.--(An' it ain't broke at all-- I ist _said_ that!) An' so the old Bear think He'll take the gun an' _shoot_ the Little Boy:-- But _Bears they_ don't know much 'bout shootin' guns; So when he go to shoot the Little Boy, The old Bear got the _other_ end the gun Ag'in' his shoulder, 'stid o' _th' other_ end-- So when he try to shoot the Little Boy, It shot _the Bear_, it did--an' killed him dead! An' nen the Little Boy clumb down the tree An' chopped his old woolly head off:--Yes, an' killed The _other_ Bear ag'in, he did--an' killed All _boff_ the bears, he did--an' tuk 'em home An' _cooked_ 'em, too, an' _et_ 'em! --An' that's all.
ENVOY
Many pleasures of youth have been buoyantly sung-- And, borne on the winds of delight, may they beat With their palpitant wings at the hearts of the Young, And in bosoms of Age find as warm a retreat!-- Yet sweetest of all of the musical throng, Though least of the numbers that upward aspire, Is the one rising now into wavering song, As I sit in the silence and gaze in the fire.
'Tis a Winter long dead that beleaguers my door And muffles his steps in the snows of the past: And I see, in the embers I'm dreaming before, Lost faces of love as they looked on me last:-- The round, laughing eyes of the desk-mate of old Gleam out for a moment with truant desire-- Then fade and are lost in a City of Gold, As I sit in the silence and gaze in the fire.
And then comes the face, peering back in my own, Of a shy little girl, with her lids drooping low, As she faltering tells, in a far-away tone, The ghost of a story of long, long ago.-- Then her dewy blue eyes they are lifted again; But I see their glad light slowly fail and expire, As I reach and cry to her in vain, all in vain!-- As I sit in the silence and gaze in the fire.
Then the face of a Mother looks back, through the mist Of tears that are welling; and, lucent with light, I see the dear smile of the lips I have kissed As she knelt by my cradle at morning and night; And my arms are outheld, with a yearning too wild For any but God in His love to inspire, As she pleads at the foot of His throne for her child,-- As I sit in the silence and gaze in the fire.
O pathos of rapture! O glorious pain! My heart is a blossom of joy over-run With a shower of tears, as a lily with rain That weeps in the shadow and laughs in the sun. The blight of the frost may descend on the tree, And the leaf and the flower may fall and expire, But ever and ever love blossoms for me, As I sit in the silence and gaze in the fire.
End of Project Gutenberg's Riley Child-Rhymes, by James Whitcomb Riley