Chapter 2
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'.
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"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'.
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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_!
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!
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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!
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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!
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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!
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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."
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THE PENALTY OF GENIUS
"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!
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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.
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"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!"
"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.
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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.
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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.
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"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."
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IN FERVENT PRAISE OF PICNICS
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.
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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!--
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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!
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THE BEST TIMES
_When Old Folks they wuz young like us_ _An' little as you an' me_,--
_Them wuz the best times ever wuz_ _Er ever goin' to be_!
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"HIK-TEE-DIK!"
THE WAR-CRY OF BILLY AND BUDDY
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!
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!
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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--
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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!
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!
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"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_!"
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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_!"
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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,
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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.--
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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?"
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II
UNCLE BRIGHTENS UP--
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.
Uncle Sidney's vurry proud Of little Leslie-Janey, 'Cause she's so smart, an' goes to school Clean 'way in Pennsylvany!
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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.
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III
SINGS A "WINKY-TOODEN" SONG--
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!
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IV
AND MAKES NURSERY RHYMES
1
THE DINERS IN THE KITCHEN
Our dog Fred Et the bread.
Our dog Dash Et the hash.
Our dog Pete Et the meat.
Our dog Davy Et the gravy.
Our dog Toffy Et the coffee.
Our dog Jake Et the cake.
Our dog Trip Et the dip.
And--the worst, From the first,--
Our dog Fido Et the pie-dough.
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2
THE IMPERIOUS ANGLER
Miss Medairy Dory-Ann Cast her line and caught a man,
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.
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3
THE GATHERING OF THE CLANS
[_Voice from behind high board-fence_.]
"Where's the crowd that dares to go Where I dare to lead?--you know!"
"Well, here's _one_!" Shouts Ezry Dunn.
"Count me _two_!" Yells Cootsy Drew.
"Here's yer _three_!" Sings Babe Magee.
"Score me _four_!" Roars Leech-hole Moore.
"Tally--_five_!" Howls Jamesy Clive.
"I make _six_!" Chirps Herbert Dix.
"Punctchul!--_seven_!" Pipes Runt Replevin.
"Mark me _eight_!" Grunts Mealbag Nate.
"I'm yet _nine_!" Growls "Lud'rick" Stein.
"Hi! here's _ten_!" Whoops Catfish Ben.
"And now we march, in daring line, For the banks of Brandywine!"
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4
"IT"
A wee little worm in a hickory-nut Sang, happy as he could be,--