NRLF Rihrv Verse THE HOOSIER BOOK 200*1 >THI800H T The Hoosier Book ei . nei ,oor t ~( Containing Poems in Dialect \-*Mv.o J jjiHM-al/j-tasoa JI^X By James Whitcomb Riley f/ , , > Collected and Arranged by Hewitt Hanson Howland INDIANAPOLIS THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY PUBLISHERS COPYRIGHT 1887, 1891, 1893, 1894, 1896, 1897, 1900, 1902 1903, 1904, 1907, 1909, 1913 JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY COPYRIGHT 1916 THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY HrnorjjfrfW Printed in the United States of America PRESS OF BRAUNWORTH & CO. BOOK MANUFACTUREBt BROOKLYN, N. Y. TO JOHNTY 784916 OT TrtHOI Dfli bsd ,biow sfanow ,2iodsi ^r *to noianbxo orfj T.. ?,ifij } -130 srlj a-isrh Ji io >bi;l srfi 1370 bsajsalti^ib 10 INTRODUCTION When James Whitcomb Riley was a very small boy, too young to read, he fell in love at first sight with a book, and like all intense lovers he at once desired to possess the object of his affection. By thrift and careful hoarding he got together pennies equal to the price, and the little red and gold "poetry book" fell into his eager, outstretched, freckled hands. Now he did not love this early treasure for what it con tained, but for its look, for the feel of it in his hand, as he afterward said. These same emotions were stirred when in 1911 he was presented with the first copy of The Lock erbie Book. "I like its look and the feel of it," he said, and thereupon repeated the story of his first literary love. So it came about that, at the proper time, he suggested and even urged a companion volume, to contain only dialect verse, and with that spontaneous genius for nomenclature which was so remarkably his, instantly christened the new collection : The Hoosier Book The Hoosier Book of Rilcy Verse. This was but a short time after his return to Indianapolis from a winter in the South, and only a few months before he departed on that last great journey to the land where it is always afternoon. His never imposed but always unerring taste, his gentle criticism, his tactful suggestions, all so helpful in the prep aration of The Lockerbie Book, have been wanting in the selection of poems for this volume, but the poems them- selves, every line, every word, had the final touch of his careful hand. Whether he is smiling over my labors, wondering at the inclusion of this or the exclusion of that, pleased over the order here or displeased over the lack of it there the cer tainty of one thing cheers me : he would like the look of The Hoosier Book and the feel of it in his hand. Mr. Riley s verse written in the native tongue of his native state is the verse that brought him first into public regard, is the verse by which he is most widely known, and on which his claim to immortality will unquestionably rest. Finer stanzas he may have written in the English of Eliz abeth, but in the idiom of the Hoosier he has sung the songs of a people. n THE HOOSIER BOOK ;OOH >13.I?/ rfT r THE :S HOOSIER BOOK NEGHBORLY POEMS My Philosofy I AIN T, ner don t p tend to be, Much posted on philosofy; But thare is times, when all alone, I work out idees of my own. And of these same thare is a few I d like to jest refer to you Pervidin that you don t object To listen clos t and rickollect. I allus argy that a man Who does about the best he can Is plenty good enugh to suit This lower mundane institute No matter ef his daily walk Is subject fer his neghbor s talk, And critic-minds of ev ry whim Jest all git up and go fer him ! i THE HOOSIER BOOK I knovved a feller onc t that had The yeller-janders mighty bad, And each and ev ry friend he d meet Would stop and give him some receet Fer cuorin of em. But he d say He kindo thought they d go away Without no medicin , and boast That he d git well without one doste. He kep a-yellerin* on and they Perdictin that he d die some day Before he knowed it! Tuck his bed, The feller did, and lost his head, And wundered in his mind a spell Then rallied, and, at last, got well ; But ev ry friend that said he d die Went back on him eternally ! It s natchurl enugh, I guess, When some gits more and some gits less, Fer them-uns on the slimmest side To claim it ain t a fare divide ; And I ve knowed some to lay and wait, And git up soon, and set up late, To ketch some feller they could hate Fer goin at a faster gait. The signs is bad when folks commence A-findin fault with Providence, And balkin cause the earth don t shake At ev ry prancin step they take. THE HOOSIER BOOK No man is grate tel he can see How less than little he would be Ef stripped to self, and stark and bare He hung his sign out anywhare. My doctern is to lay aside Contensions, and be satisfied : Jest do your best, and praise er blame That f oilers that, counts jest the same. I ve allus noticed grate success Is mixed with troubles, more or less, And it s the man who does the best That gits more kicks than all the rest. \>m)"Y-v>YY vAT ^ 2 The Clover i-*n3 -.!) MBS ^kifrj-aUO flUD Q OME sings of the lilly, and daisy, and rose, And the pansies and pinks that the Summertime throws In the green grassy lap of the medder that lays Blinkin up at the skyes through the sunshiney days ; But what is the lilly and all of the rest Of the flowers, to a man with a hart in his brest That was dipped brimmin full of the honey and dew Of the sweet clover-blossoms his babyhood knew? I never set eyes on a clover-field now, Er fool round a stable, er climb in the mow, But my childhood comes back jest as clear and as plane As the smell of the clover I m sniffin again; THE IIOOSIER BOOK And I wundcr away in a bare-footed dream, \Vharc I tangle my toes in the blossoms that gleam With the dew of the dawn of the morning of love Ere it wept ore the graves that I m weepin above. And so I love clover it seems like a part Of the sacerdest sorrows and joys of my hart; And wharever it blossoms, oh, thare let me bow And thank the good God as I m thankin Him now ; And I pray to Him still fer the stren th when I die, To go out in the clover and tell it good-bye, And lovin ly nestle my face in its bloom While my soul slips away on a breth of pur fume. The Tree-Toad CUR OUS-LIKE," said the tree-toad, ve twittered fer rain all day; And I got up soon, And hollered tel noon But the sun, hit blazed away, Tel I jest clumb down in a crawfish-hole, Weary at hart, and sick at soul ! Dozed away fer an hour, And I tackled the thing ag in : And I sung, and sung, Tel I knowed my lung Was jest about give in; And then, thinks I, ef hit don t rain now, They s nothin* in singin , anyhow I 4 THE HOOSIER BOOK Onc t in a while some farmer Would come a-drivin* past; And he d hear my cry, And stop and sigh Tel I jest laid back, at last, And I hollered rain tel I thought my th oat Would bust wide open at ever note ! "But I fetched her ! O / fetched her ! Cause a little while ago, As I kindo set, With one eye shet, And a-singin soft and low, A voice drapped down on my fevered brain, A-sayin , Ef you ll jest hush I ll rain! " 4 The Old Swimmin -Hole OH ! the old swimmin -hole ! whare the crick so still and deep Looked like a baby-river that was laying half asleep, And the gurgle of the worter round the drift jest below Sounded like the laugh of something we onc t ust to know Before we could remember anything but the eyes Of the angels lookin* out as we left Paradise; But the merry days of youth is beyond our controle, And it s hard to part ferever with the old swimmin -hole. Oh! the old swimmin -hole! In the happy days of yore, When I ust to lean above it on the old sickamore, Oh ! it showed me a face in its warm sunny tide That gazed back at me so gay and glorified, 5 THE HOOSIER BOOK It made me love myself, as I leaped to caress My shadder smilin up at me with sich tenderness. But them days is past and gone, and old Time s tuck his toll From the old man come back to the old swimmin -hole. Oh 1 the old swimmin -hole ! In the long, lazy days When the humdrum of school made so many run-a-ways, How plesant was the jurney down the old dusty lane, Whare the tracks of our bare feet was all printed so plane You could tell by the dent of the heel and the sole They was lots o fun on hands at the old swimmin -hole. But the lost joys is past! Let your tears in sorrow roll Like the rain that ust to dapple up the old swimmin -hole. Thare the bullrushes growed, and the cattails so tall, And the sunshine and shadder fell over it all ; And it mottled the worter with amber and gold Tel the glad lilies rocked in the ripples that rolled; And the snake-feeder s four gauzy wings fluttered by Like the ghost of a daisy dropped out of the sky, Or a wownded apple-blossom in the breeze s controle As it cut acrost some orchurd to rds the old swimmin -hole. Oh ! the old swimmin -hole ! When I last saw the place, The scenes was all changed, like the change in my face; The bridge of the railroad now crosses the spot Whare the old divin -log lays sunk and fergot. And I stray down the banks whare the trees ust to be - ,But never again will theyr shade shelter me! And I wish in my sorrow I could strip to the soul, And dive off in my grave like the old swimmin -hole. THE HOOSIER BOOK 5 How It Happened GOT to thin kin of her both her parunts dead and gone And all her sisters married off, and none but her and John A-livin all alone thare in that lonesome sorto way, And him a blame old bachelor, confirmder ev ry day ! I d knowed em all, from childern, and theyr daddy from the time He settled in the neghborhood, and hadn t ary a dime Er dollar, when he married, f er to start housekeepin on ! So I got to thinkin of her both her parunts dead and gone ! I got to thinkin of her ; and a-wundern what she done That all her sisters kep a-gittin married, one by one, And her without no chances and the best girl of the pack A old maid, with her hands, you might say, tied behind her back! And Mother, too, afore she died, she ust to jest take on, When none of em wuz left, you know, but Evaline and John, And jest declare to goodness at the young men must be bline To not see what a wife they d git ef they got Evaline I I got to thinkin of her: In my great affliction she Wuz sich a comfert to us, and so kind and neghborly, She d come, and leave her housework, fer to he p out little Jane, And talk of her own mother at she d never see again THE HOOSIER BOOK They d sometimes cry together though, fer the most part, she Would have the child so rickonciled and happy-like at we Felt lonesomer n ever when she d putt her bonnet on And say she d railly haf to be a-gittin back to John ! I got to thinkin of her, as I say, and more and more I d think of her dependence, and the burdens at she bore, Her parunts both a-bein dead, and all her sisters gone And married off, and her a-livin* thare alone with John You might say jest a-toilin and a-slavin out her life Fer a man at hadn t pride enugh to git hisse f a wife Less some one married Evaline and packed her off some day! So I got to thinkin of her and It happened thataway. 6 Thoughts fer the Discuraged Farmer fbn& ofii Jr/H Jild ,won>3! r;ov ,ti j{ sov/ rn^ 10 orion rtsff T^HE summer winds is sniffin round the bloomin locus trees ; And the clover in the pastur is a big day fer the bees, And they been a-swiggin honey, above board and on the sly, Tel they stutter in theyr buzzin and stagger as they fly. The flicker on the fence-rail pears to jest spit on his wings And roll up his feathers, by the sassy way he sings ; And the hoss-fly is a-whettin -up his forelegs fer biz, And the off-mare is a-switchin all of her tale they is. THE HOOSIER BOOK You can hear the blackbirds jawin as they f oiler up the plow Oh, theyr bound to git theyr brekfast, and theyr not a-carin how; So they quarrel in the furries, and they quarrel on the wing But theyr peaceabler in pot-pies than any other thing : And it s when I git my shotgun drawed up in stiddy rest, She s as full of tribbelation as a yeller-jacket s nest; And a few shots before dinner, when the sun s a-shinin right, Seems to kindo -sorto sharpen up a feller s appetite ! .nov They s been a heap o rain, but the sun s out to-day, And the clouds of the wet spell is all cleared away, And the woods is all the greener, and the grass is greener still; It may rain again to-morry, but I don t think it will." Some says the crops is ruined, and the corn s drownded out, And propha-sy the wheat will be a failure, without doubt ; But the kind Providence that has never failed us yet, Will be on hands onc t more at the leventh hour, I bet ! Does the medder-lark complane, as he swims high and dry Through the waves of the wind and the blue of the sky? Does the quail set up and whissel in a disappinted way, Er hang his head in silunce, and sorrow all the day? Is the chipmuck s health a-failin ? Does he walk, er does he run? Don t the buzzards ooze around up thare jest like they ve allus done? 9 THE HOOSIER BOOK Is they anything the matter with the rooster s lungs er voice? Ort a mortul be complanin* when dumb animals rejoice? Then let us, one and all, be contentud with our lot; The June is here this mornin , and the sun is shining hot. Oh ! let us fill our harts up with the glory of the day, And banish ev ry doubt and care and sorrow fur away! Whatever be our station, with Providence fer guide, Sich fine circumstances ort to make us satisfied ; Fer the world is full of roses, and the roses full of dew, And the dew is full of heavenly love that drips fer me and you. A Summer s Day THE Summer s put the idy in My head that I m a boy ag in ; And all around s so bright and gay I want to put my team away, And jest git out whare I can lay And soak my hide full of the day! But work is work, and must be done Yit, as I work, I have my fun, Jest" f ancyin these f urries here Is childhood s paths onc t more so dear : And so I walk through medder-lands, And country lanes, and swampy trails Whare long bullrushes bresh my hands ; And, tilted on the ridered rails 10 THE HOOSIER BOOK Of deadnin fences, "Old Bob White" Whissels his name in high delight, And whirrs away. I wunder still, Whichever way a boy s feet will Whare trees has fell, with tangled tops Whare dead leaves shakes, I stop f er breth, Heerin the acorn as it drops H istin my chin up still as deth, And watchin clos t, with upturned eyes, The tree where Mr. Squirrel tries To hide hisse f above the limb, But lets his own tale tell on him. I wunder on in deeper glooms Git hungry, hearin female cries From old farm-houses, whare perfumes Of harvest dinners seems to rise And ta nt a feller, hart and brane, With memories he can t explane. m a^bis -HI* Tic qhb teat, bnA I wunder through the underbresh, Whare pig-tracks, pintin to rds the crick, Is picked and printed in the fresh Black bottom-lands, like wimmern pick Theyr pie-crusts with a fork, some way, When bakin fer camp-meetin" day. I wunder on and on and on, Tel my gray hair and beard is gone, And ev ry wrinkle on my brow Is rubbed clean out and shaddered now With curls as brown and fare and fine As tenderls of the wild grape-vine .olmr HV// LnA II THE HOOSIER BOOK That ust to climb the highest tree To keep the ripest ones fer me. I wunder still, and here I am Wadin* the ford below the dam The worter chucklin round my knee At hornet-welt and bramble-scratch, And me a-slippin crost to see Ef Tyner s plums is ripe, and size The old man s wortermelon-patch, With juicy mouth and drouthy eyes. Then, after sich a. day of mirth And happiness as worlds is wurth So tired that Heaven seems nigh about, The sweetest tiredness on earth Is to git home and flatten out So tired you can t lay flat enugh, And sorto wish that you could spred Out like molasses on the bed, And jest drip off the aidges in The dreams that never comes ag in. ^vbha^irlt .ajp ot niJfiiq.^jbcit-^rq vtmtW 8 A Hymb of Faith OTHOU that doth all things devise j And fashon fer the best, He p us who sees with mortul eyes To overlook the rest. They s times, of course, we grope in doubt, And in afflictions sore; So knock the louder, Lord, without, And we ll unlock the door. 12 THE HOOSIER BOOK Make us to feel, when times looks bad And tears in pitty melts, Thou wast the only he p we had When they was nothin else. Death comes alike to ev ry man That ever was horned on earth ; Then let us do the best we can To live fer all life s wurth. Ef storms and tempusts dred to see Makes black the heavens ore, They done the same in Galilee Two thousand years before. But after all, the golden sun Poured out its floods on them That watched and waited fer the One Then borned in Bethlyham. Also, the star of holy writ Made noonday of the night, Whilse other stars that looked at it Was envious with delight. The sages then in wtirship bowed, r- 1- e r rom ev ry clime so fare ; O, sinner, think of that glad crowd That congergated thare ! They was content to fall in ranks With One that knowed the way From good old Jurden s stormy banks Clean up to Jedgmunt Day. 13 THE HOOSIER BOOK No matter, then, how all is mixed In our near-sighted eyes, All things is fer the best, and fixed Out straight in Paradise. Then take things as God sends em here, And, ef we live er die, Be more and more contenteder, Without a-astin* why. O, Thou that doth all things devise And fashon fer the best, He p us who sees with mortul eyes To overlook the rest. p Wortermelon Time OLD wortermelon time is a-comin round ag in, And they ain t no man a-livin* any tickleder n me, Fer the way I hanker after wortermelons is a sin Which is the why and wharefore, as you can plainly see. f> y/i"!f? <:};[,- t!i- /r ni nfjffi soiiKS 9fIT Oh ! it s in the sandy soil wortermelons does the best, And it s thare they ll lay and waller in the sunshine and the dew Tel they wear all the green streaks clean off of theyr breast ; And you bet I ain t a-findin any fault with them ; air you? -.yen inrrrnigh^T /ot *\n nr,y!j 14 THE HOOSIER BOOK They ain t no better thing in the vegetable line ; And they don t need much tendin , as ev ry farmer knows ; And when theyr ripe and ready fer to pluck from the vine, I want to say to you theyr the best fruit that grows. It s some likes the yeller-core, and some likes the red, And it s some says "The Little Galiforny" is the best; But the sweetest slice of all I ever wedged in my head, Is the old "Edingburg Mounting-sprout," of the West. You don t want no punkins nigh your wortermelon vines Cause, some-way-another, they ll spile your melons, shore ; I ve seed em taste like punkins, from the core to the rines, Which may be a fact you have heerd of before. But your melons that s raised right and tended to with care, You can walk around amongst em with a parent s pride and joy, And thump em on the heads with as fatherly a air As ef each one of them was your little girl er boy. f rrifisu-)-jj Jif^ia silt bnz /iiHljsl-s wob bfiR ^nb julj bnA I joy in my hart jest to hear that rippin sound When you split one down the back and jolt the halves in two, And the friends you love the best is gethered all around And you says unto your sweethart, "Oh, here s the core fer you !" THE HOOSIER BOOK And I like to slice em up in big pieces fer em all, Espeshally the childern, and watch theyr high delight As one by one the rines with theyr pink notches falls, And they holler fer some more, with unquenched appe tite. Boys takes to it natchurl, and I like to see em eat A slice of wortermelon s like a frenchharp in theyr hands, And when they "saw" it through theyr mouth sich music can t be beat Cause it s music both the sperit and the stummick under stands. Oh, they s more in wortermelons than the purty-colored meat, And the overflowin sweetness of the wortcr squshed betwixt The up ard and the down ard motions of a feller s teeth, And it s the taste of ripe old age and juicy childhood mixed. Fer I never taste a melon but my thoughts flies away To the summertime of youth ; and again I see the dawn, And the fadin afternoon of the long summer day, And the dusk and dew a-fallin , and the night a-cotnin on. And thare s the corn around us, and the lispin leaves and trees, And the stars a-peekin down on us as still as silver mice, And us boys in the wortermelons on our hands and knees, And the new-moon hangin ore us like a yeller-cored slice. 16 THE HOOSIKR BOOK Oh ! it s wortermelon time is a-comin round ag in, And they ain t no man a-livin any tickleder n me, Per the way I hanker after wortermelons is a sin Which is the why and wharefore, as you can plainly see. if! bus. no -ei.-l- t mo7 3f!.t lo fcbaaoi e>ilJ }Q lo?.?,rn v^rn ,-^auri /o When the Frost Is on the Punkin WHEN the frost is on the punkin and the fodder s in the shock, And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin turkey- cock, And the clackin of the guineys, and the cluckin of the hens, And the rooster s hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence ; O, it s then s the times a feller is a-feelin at his best, With the risin sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest, As he leaves the house, bare-headed, and goes out to feed the stock, When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder s in the shock. They s something kindo* harty-like about the atmusfere When the heat of summer s over and the coolin* fall is here Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees, And the mumble of the hummin -birds and buzzin* of the bees; 17 THE HOOSIER BOOK But the air s so appetizin ; and the landscape through the haze Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days Is a pictur that no painter has the colorin to mock When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder s in the shock. The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn, And the raspin of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn; The stubble in the furries kindo lonesome-like, but still A-preachin sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill ; The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed ; The hosses in t.heyr stalls below the clover overhead ! O, it sets my hart a-clickin* like the tickin of a clock, When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder s in the shock ! Then your apples all is getherd, and the ones a feller keeps Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps ; And your cider-makin s over, and your wimmern-folks is through With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too ! . . . I don t know how to tell it but ef sich a thing could be As the Angels wantin boardin , and they d call around on me I d want to commodate em all the whole-indurin* flock When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder s in the shock ! 18 THE HOOSIER BOOK // On the Death of Little Mahala Ash era ft "TITTLE Haly! Little Haty!" cheeps the robin in the LJL tree ; "Little Haly !" sighs the clover, "Little Haly !" moans the bee; "Little Haly ! Little Haly !" calls the killdeer at twilight ; And the katydids and crickets hollers "Haly !" all the night. :/- -: ,"j bn/ The sunflowers and the hollyhawks droops over the garden fence ; The old path down the garden walks still holds her foot prints dents ; And the well-sweep s swingin bucket seems to wait fer her to come And start it on its wortery errant down the old bee-gum. The beehives all is quiet ; and the little Jersey steer, When any one comes nigh it, acts so lonesome-like and queer ; And the little Banty chickens kindo cutters faint and low, Like the hand that now was f eedin em was one they didn t know. .; bnirbd .}}>] w\ol o<- Loorfblrfb ^m }oo!imiJ I z A f They s sorrow in the wavin leaves of all the apple-trees; And sorrow in the harvest-sheaves, and sorrow in the breeze ; And sorrow in the twitter of the swallers round the shed ; And all the song her redbird sings is "Little Haly s dead !" a ^Ij } (> jeom rrfj ni>Inidt-i; fonA THE HOOSIER BOOK The medder pears to miss her, and the pathway through the grass, Whare the dewdrops ust to kiss her little bare feet as she passed ; And the old pin in the gate-post seems to kindo -sorto doubt That Haly s little sunburnt hands ll ever pull it out. Did her father er her mother ever love her more n me, Er her sisters er her brother prize her love more tendurly? I question and what answer ? only tears, and tears alone, And ev ry neghbor s eyes is full o tear-drops as my own. "Little Haly ! Little Haly !" cheeps the robin in the tree ; "Little Haly!" sighs the clover, "Little Haly!" moans the bee; "Little Haly ! Little Haly !" calls the killdeer at twilight, And the katydids and crickets hollers "Haly !" all the night. 12 The Mulberry Tree f jibil) vsnfj rjno a,sw nr/ ^nliwj"} si . n v/oii Jin t biiJJii o*i! j/i;. L OIT S many s the scenes which is dear to my mind j As I think of my childhood so long left behind ; The home of my birth, with its old puncheon-floor, And the bright morning-glorys that growed round the door ; The warped clabboard roof whare the rain it run off Into streams of sweet dreams as I laid in the loft, Countin all of the joys that was dearest to me, And a-thinkin the most of the mulberry tree. 20 THE HOOSIER BOOK And to-day as I dream, with both eyes wide-awake, I can see the old tree, and its limbs as they shake, And the long purple berries that rained on the ground Whare the pastur was bald whare we trommpt it around. And again, peekin up through the thick leafy shade, I can see the glad smiles of the friends when I strayed With my little bare feet from my own mother s knee To foller them off to the mulberry tree. Leanin up in the forks, I can see the old rail, And the boy climbin up it, claw, tooth, and toe-nail, And in fancy can hear, as he spits on his hands, The ring of his laugh and the rip of his pants. But that rail led to glory, as certin and shore As I ll never climb thare by that rout any more What was all the green lauruls of Fame unto me, With my brows in the boughs of the mulberry tree ! Then it s who can fergit the old mulberry tree That he knowed in the days when his thoughts was as free As the flutterin* wings of the birds that flew out Of the tall wavin tops as the boys come about? O, a crowd of my memories, laughin and gay, Is a-climbin the fence of that pastur to-day, And a-pantin with joy, as us boys ust to be, They go racin acrost fer the mulberry tree. ;Xv7fi biiTecv/ nua srh irjd ,n9vr,-?rf eln oJ ?3vo ^m borrm* I rji ; o>tif r >hob %fl lift A bwJ ii 3*)cf J nbsrf Ji }y .trio l>y//cfft -i973n I) g9^9 xi bnA ai THE HOOSIER BOOK ij To My Old Friend, William Leachman FER forty year and better you have been a friend to me, Through days of sore afflictions and dire adversity, You allus had a kind word of counsul to impart, Which was like a healin intrnent to the sorrow of my hart. When I burried my first womern, William Leachman, it was you Had the only consolation that I could listen to Fer I knowed you had gone through it and had rallied from the blow, And when you said I d do the same, I knowed you d ort to , know. But that time I ll long remember; how I wundered here and thare Through the settin -room and kitchen, and out in the open air And the snowflakes whirlin , whirling and the fields a frozen glare, And the neghbors sleds and wagons congergatin ev ry- whare. I turned my eyes to rds heaven, but the sun was hid away ; I turned my eyes to rds earth again, but all was cold and gray ; And the clock, like ice a-crackin , clickt the icy hours in two And my eyes d never thawed out ef it hadn t been f er you ! 22 THE HOOSIER BOOK We set thare by the smoke-house me and you out thare alone Me a-thinkin you a-talkin in a soothin undertone You a-talkin me a-thinkin of the summers long ago, And a-writin "Marthy Marthy" with my finger in the snow ! William Leachman, I can see you jest as plane as I could then ; And your hand is on my shoulder, and you rouse me up again ; .And I see the tears a-drippin from your own eyes, as you say: "Be rickonciled and bear it we but linger f er a day !" At the last Old Settlers Meetin we went j intly, you and me Your bosses and my w r agon, as you wanted it to be ; And sence I can remember, from the time we ve neghbored here, In all sich friendly actions you have double-done your sheer. It was better than the meetin , too, that nine-mile talk we had Of the times when we first settled here and travel was so bad; When we had to go on boss-back, and sometimes on "Shanks s mare," And "blaze" a road fer them behind that had to travel thare. THE HOOSIER BOOK And now we was a-trottin long a level gravel pike, In a big two-boss road-wagon, jest as easy as you like Two of us on the front reat, and our wimmern-folks be hind, A-settin in theyr Winsor-cheers in perfect peace of mind ! And we pinted out old landmarks, nearly faded out of sight : Thare they ust to rob the stage-coach ; thare Gash Morgan had the fight With the old stag-deer that pronged him how he battled fer his life, And lived to prove the story by the handle of his knife. Thare the first griss-mill was put up in the Settlement, and we Had tuck our grindin to it in the Fall of Forty-three When we tuck our rifles with us, techin elbows all the way, And a-stickin right together ev ry minute, night and day. Thare ust to stand the tavern that they called the "Trav elers Rest," And thare, beyent the covered bridge, "The Counterfitters Nest" Whare they claimed the house was ha nted that a man was murdered thare, And hurried underneath the floor, er round the place some- whare. And the old Plank-road they laid along in Fifty-one er two You know we talked about the times when the old road was new: 24 THE HOOSIER BOOK How "Uncle Sam" put down that road and never taxed the State Was a problem, don t you rickollect, we couldn t dimon- strate? , MTI oi jlaPgi Vji ifo odi nariw *%* b!o srfa 2! Ways was devius, William Leachman, that me and you has past; But as I found you true at first, I find you true at last; And, now the time s a-comin mighty nigh our jurney s end, I want to throw wide open all my soul to you, my friend. With the stren th of all my bein , and the heat of hart and brane, And ev ry livin drop of blood in artery and vane, I love you and respect you, and I venerate your name, Fer the name of William Leachman and True Manhood s jest the same ! 14 My Fiddle MY fiddle? Well, I kindo* keep her handy, don t you know! Though I ain t so much inclined to tromp the strings and switch the bow As I was before the timber of my elbows got so dry, And my fingers was more limber-like and caperish and spry ; Yit I can plonk and plunk and plink, And tune her up and play, And jest lean back and laugh and wink At ev ry rainy day ! 25 THE HOOSIER BOOK My playin s only middlin tunes I picked up when a boy The kindo -sorto fiddlin that the folks calls "cordaroy" ; "The Old Fat Gal," and "Rye-straw," and "My Sailyor s on the Sea," Is the old cowtillions I "saw" when the ch ice is left to me ; And so I plunk and plonk and plink, And rosum-up my bow And play the tunes that makes you think The devil s in your toe ! I was allus a romancin , do-less boy, to tell the truth, A-fiddlin and a-dancin , and a-wastin of my youth, And a-actin and a-cuttin -up all sorts o silly pranks That wasn t worth a botton of anybody s thanks I But they tell me, when I ust to plink And plonk and plunk and play, My music seemed to have the kink O drivin cares away ! That s how this here old fiddle s won my hart s indurin* love ! From the strings acrost her middle, to the schreechin* keys above From her "apern," over "bridge," and to the ribbon round her throat, She s a wooin , cooin* pigeon, singin* "Love me" ev ry note ! And so I pat her neck, and plink Her strings with lovin hands, And, list nin clos t, I sometimes think She kindo* understands ! 26 THE HOOSIER BOOK /5 Erasmus Wilson T> AS WILSON, I respect you, cause * * You re common, like you allus was Afore you went to town and s prised The world by gittin "reckonized," And yit perservin , as I say, Your common hoss-sense ev ry way I And when that name o yourn occurs On hand-bills, er in newspapers, Er letters writ by friends at ast About you, same as in the past, And neghbors and relations low You re out o* the tall timber now, And "gittin thare" about as spry s The next ! as / say, when my eyes, Er ears, lights on your name, I mind The first time at I come to find You and my Rickollection yells, Jest jtibilunt as old sleigh-bells " Ras Wilson ! Say ! Hold up I and shake A paw, f er old acquaintance sake !" My Rickollection, more n like, Hain t overly too apt to strike The what s-called "cultchurd public eye" As wisdom of the deepest dye, And yit my Rickollection makes So blame lots fewer bad mistakes, Regardin human-natur* and The fellers at I ve shook theyr hand, THE HOOSIER BOOK Than my best jedgenmnt s done, the day I ve met em fore I got away, At Well, Ras Wilson, let me grip Your hand in warmest pardnership ! iflliiiiio.^ b.rfii ,rromfno3 31*110 / * -* Dad-burn ye ! Like to jest haul back A old flat-hander, j est che-whack ! And take you twixt the shoulders, say, Sometime you re lookin t other way ! Er, maybe whilse you re speakin to A whole blame Court-house-full o thu- Syastic friends, I d like to jest Come in-like and break up the nest Afore you hatched another cheer, And say : " Ras, / can t stand hitched here All night ner wouldn t ef I could ! But Little Bethel Neghborhood, You ust to live at, s sent some word Fer you, ef ary chance occurred To git it to ye, so ef you Kin stop, I m waitin* f er ye to 1" You re common, as I said afore You re common, yit oncommon more. You allus kindo pear, to me, What all mankind had ort to be Jest natchurl, and the more hurraws You git, the less you know the cause Like as ef God Hisse f stood by Where best on earth hain t half knee-high, THE HOOSIER BOOK And seein like, and knowin He S the Only Grate Man really, You re jest content to size your hight With any feller man s in sight. And even then they s scrubs, like me, Feels stuck-up, in your company ! . .h.TH-.i ofLj aJKf! r>f!J ?2$r Ji an. /o- isCT Like now : I want to go with you Plum out o town a mile er two Clean past the Fair-ground whare s some hint O pennyrile er peppermint, And bottom-lands, and timber thick Enugh to sorto* shade the crick! I want to see you want to set Down somers, whare the grass hain t wet, And kindo* breathe you, like puore air And taste o your tobacker thare, And talk and chaw ! Talk o the birds We ve knocked with cross-bows. Afterwards Drop, mayby, into some dispute Bout "pomgrannies," er cal mus-root And how they growed, and whare? on tree Er vine? Who s best boy-memory! And wasn t it gingsang, insted O cal mus-root, growed like you said? Er how to tell a coon-track from A mussrat s ; er how milksick come Er ef cows brung it? Er why now We never see no "muley"-cow Ner "frizzly"-chicken ner no "clay- Bank" mare ner nothin thataway ! idjiexfjo v/{ lirnicn 29 THE HOOSIER BOOK And what s come o the yellow-core Old wortermelons ? hain t no more. Tomattusus, the :;ame all red- Uns nowadays All past joys fled Each and all jest gone k-whizz! Like our days o childhood is ! Dag-gone it, Ras ! they hain t no friend, It pears-like, left to comperhend Sich things as these but you, and see How dratted sweet they air to me ! But you, at s loved em allus, and Kin sort em out and understand Em, same as the fine books you ve read, And all fine thoughts you ve writ, er said, Er worked out, through long nights o rain, And doubts and fears, and hopes, again, As bright as morning when she broke, You know a tear-drop from a joke! And so, Ras Wilson, stop and shake A paw, f er old acquaintance sake ! 16 My Ruthers [Writ durin* State Fair at Indanoplis, whilse visitin a Soninlaw then residin thare, who has sence got back to the country whare he says a man that s raised there ort to a-stayed in the first place.] T TELL you what I d ruther do JL Ef I only had my ruthers, I d ruther work when I wanted to Than be bossed round by others ; 30 THE HOOSIER BOOK I d rutlier kindo git the swing O what was needed, first, I jing! Afore I swet at anything! Ef I only had my ruthers ; In fact I d aim to be the same With all men as my brothers ; And they d all be the same with me Ef I only had my ruthers. I wouldn t likely know it all Ef I only had my ruthers ; I d know some sense, and some baseball- Some old jokes, and some others: I d know some politics, and low Some tarif -speeches same as now, Then go hear Nye on "Branes and How To Detect Theyr Presence." T others, That stayed away, I d let em stay All my dissentin brothers Could chuse as shore a kill er cuore, Ef I only had my ruthers. The pore ud git theyr dues sometimes Ef I only had my ruthers, And be paid dollars stid o dimes, Fer childern, wives and mothers : Theyr boy that slaves ; theyr girl that sews- Fer others not herself, God knows ! The grave s her only change of clothes ! . . . Ef I only had my ruthers, THE HOOSIER BOOK They d all have "stuff" and time enugh To answer one-another s Appealin prayer fer "lovin care" Ef I only had my ruthers. They d be few folks ud ast fer trust, Ef I only had my ruthers, And blame few business men to bu st Theyrselves, er harts of others : Big Guns that come here durin Fair- Week could put up jest anywhare, And find a full-and-plenty thare, Ef I only had my ruthers : The rich and great ud sociate With all theyr lowly brothers, Feelin we done the honorun Ef I only had my ruthers. 17 A Old Playcd-Out Song IT S the curiousest thing in creation, Whenever I hear that old song "Do They Miss Me at Home," I m so bothered, My life seems as short as it s long! Fer everything pears like adzackly It peared in the years past and gone, When I started out sparkin , at twenty, And had my first neckercher on ! THE HOOSIER BOOK Though I m wrinkleder, older and grayer Right now than my parents was then, You strike up that song "Do They Miss Me," And I m jest a youngster again! I m a-standin back thare in the furries A-wishin fer evening to come, And a-whisperin over and over Them words "Do They Miss Me at Home?" You see, Marthy Ellen she sung it The first time I heerd it ; and so, As she was my very first sweethart, It reminds me of her, don t you know ; How her face ust to look, in the twilight, As I tuck her to Spellin ; and she Kep* a-hummin that song tel I ast her, Pint-blank, ef she ever missed me! I can shet my eyes now, as you sing it, And hear her low answerin words ; And then the glad chirp of the crickets, As clear as the twitter of birds ; And the dust in the road is like velvet, And the ragweed and fennel and grass Is as sweet as the scent of the lilies Of Eden of old, as we pass. ,;.[ >n-> t )r (j r>:-jfr .* ;?.,+/?:.?"> fh/m nl "Do They Miss Me at Home?" Sing it lower And softer and sweet as the breeze That powdered our path with the snowy White bloom of the old locus -trees I 33 THE IIOOSIER BOOK Let the whipperwills he p you to sing it, And the echoes way over the hill, Tel the moon boolges out, in a chorus Of stars, and our voices is still. But, oh ! "They s a chord in the music That s missed when her voice is away !" Though I listen from midnight tel morning, And dawn tel the dusk of the day! And I grope through the dark, lookin up ards And on through the heavenly dome, With my longin soul singin and sobbin The words "Do They Miss Me at Home?" 18 "Coon-Dog Wess" "/^OON-DOG WESS" he allus went \^4 Mongst us here by that-air name. Moved in this-here Settlement From next county he laid claim, Lived down in the bottoms whare Ust to be some coons in thare ! In nigh Clayton s, next the crick, Mind old Billy ust to say Coons in thare was jest that thick, He p him corn-plant any day ! And, in rostneer-time, be then Aggin him to plant again ! 34 THE I-IOOSIER BOOK Well, In Spring o 67, This-here "Coon-dog Wess" he come Fetchin long bout forty- leven Ornriest-lookin hounds, I gum ! Ever niortul-man laid eyes On sence dawn o Christian skies ! Wife come traipsin at the rag- Tag-and-bobtail of the crowd, Dogs and childern, with a bag Corn-meal and some side-meat, Proud And as independunt My! Yit a mild look in her eye. Well this "Coon-dog Wess" he jest Moved in that-air little pen Of a pole-shed, aidgin west On The Slues o Death," called then. Otter- and mink-hunters ust To camp thare fore game vam-moosd. Abul-bodied man, and lots Call fer choppers and fer hands To git cross-ties out. But what s Work to sich as understands Ways appinted and is hence Under special providence? "Coon-dog W ess s" holts was hounds And coon-huntin ; and he knowed His own range, and stayed in bounds And left work fer them at showed Talents fer it same as his Gifts regardin coon-dogs is. 35 THE HOOSIER BOOK Hounds of ev ry mungerl breed Ever whelped on earth ! Had these Yeller kind, with punkin-seed Marks above theyr eyes and fleas Both to sell and keep! Also These-here lop-yeerd hounds, you know. Yes-and brindle hounds and long, Ga nt hounds, with them eyes they got So blame sorry, it seems wrong, Most, to kick em as to not ! Man, though, wouldn t dast, I guess, Kick a hound fer "Coon-dog Wess" ! Tended to his own affairs Stric ly ; made no brags,- and yit You could see at them hounds cares Teared like his, and he d a fit Fer em, same as wife er child ! Them facts made folks rickonciled, Sorto , fer to let him be And not pester him. And then Word begin to spread at he Had brung in as high as ten Coon-pelts in one night and yit Didn t pear to boast of it ! Neghborhood made some complaints Bout them plague-gone hounds at night Howlin fit to wake the saints, Clean from dusk tel plum daylight ! But to "Coon-dog Wess" them-thare Howls was "music in the air" ! 36 THE HOOSIER BOOK Fetched his pelts to Gilson s Store Newt he shipped fer him, and said, Sence he d cooned thare, he d shipped more Than three hundred pelts ! "By Ned ! Git shet of my store," Newt says, "I d go in with Coon-dog Wess* !" And the feller peared to be Makin best and most he could Of his rale prospairity: Bought some household things and good; Likewise, wagon-load onc t come From wharever he d moved from. But pore feller s huntin -days, Bout them times, was glidin* past ! Goes out onc t one night and stays! . . . Neghbors they turned out, at last, Headed by his wife and one Half-starved hound and search begun. Boys said, that blame hound, he led Searchin* party, bout a half Mile ahead, and bellerin , said, Worse n ary yearlin calf ! Tel, at last, come fur-off sounds Like the howl of other hounds. ! lw;>T And-sir, shore enugh, them signs Fetched em in a* hour er two Whare the pack was ; and they finds "Coon-dog Wess" right thare; And you Would admitted he was right Staying as he had, all night! 37 THE HOOSIER BOOK Facts is, cuttin down a tree, The blame thing had sorto fell In a twist-like mercy me! And had ketched him. Couldn t tell, Wess said, how he d managed yit He d got both legs under it ! Fainted and come to, I s pose, Bout a dozen times whilse they Chopped him out! And wife she froze To him ! bresh his hair away And smile cheerful only when He d faint. Cry and kiss him the n. ^YBh- fjiifmn a -nlbl -rroq inff Had his nerve ! And nussed him through,- Neghbors he pped her all she d stand. Had a loom, and she could do Carpet-weavin railly grand! " Sides," she ust to laugh and say, "She d have Wess, now, night and day!" As fer him, he d say, says-ee, "I m resigned to bein lame : They was four coons up that tree, And hounds got em, jest the same!" Feared like, one er two legs less Never worried "Coon-dog Wess" ! THE HOOSIER BOOK Ip A Talc of the Airly Days OH ! tell me a tale of the airly days Of the times as they used to be; "Filler of Fi-er" and "Shakespeare s Plays" Is a most too deep f er me ! I want plane facts, and I want plane words, Of the good old-fashioned ways, When speech run free as the songs of birds Way back in the airly days. Tell me a tale of the timber-lands Of the old-time pioneers; Somepin a pore man understands With his feelin s s well as ears. Tell of the old log house, about The loft, and the puncheon flore The old fi-er-place, with the crane swung out, And the latch-string thrugh the door. Tell of the things jest as they was They don t need no excuse ! Don t tetch em up like the poets does, Tel theyr all too fine f er use ! Say they was leven in the fambily Two beds, and the chist, below, .And the trundle-beds that each helt three, And the clock and the old bureau. Then blow the horn at the old back-door 7el the echoes all halloo, And the childern gethers home onc t more, Jest as they ust to do : 39 THE HOOSIER BOOK Blow for Fap tel he hears and comes, With Tonips and Elias, too, A-marchin home, with the fife and drums And the old Red White and Blue ! Blow and blow tel the sound draps low As the moan of the whipperwill, And wake up Mother, and Ruth and Jo, All sleepin at Bethel Hill : Blow and call tel the faces all Shine out in the back-log s blaze, And the shadders dance on the old hewed wall As they did in the airly days. 20 "Mylo Jones s Wife" -* yr YLO JONES S wife" was all iYJL I heerd, mighty near, last Fall Visitun relations down T other side of Morgantown ! Mylo Jones s wife she does This and that, and "those" and "thus" ! Can t bide babies in her sight Ner no childern, day and night, Whoopin round the premises Ner no no thin else, I guess ! Mylo Jones s wife she lows She s the boss of her own house ! Mylo consequences is Stays whare things seem some like his, Uses, mostly, with the stock Coaxin "Old Kate" not to balk, 40 THE HOOSIER BOOK Ner kick boss-flics branes out, ner Act, I s pose, so much like her! Yit the wimern-folks tells you She s perfection. Yes they do ! Mylo s wife she says she s found Home hain t home with men-folks round When they s work like hern to do Picklin pears and butcher n , too, And a-render n lard, and then Cookin fer a pack of men To come trackin up the flore She s scrubbed id she ll scrub no more! Yit she d keep things clean ef they Made her scrub tel Jedgmunt Day ! Mylo Jones s wife she sews Carpet-rags and patches clothes Jest year in and out! and yit Whare s the livin use of it? She asts Mylo that. And he Gits back whare he d ruther be, With his team; jest plows and don t Never sware like some folks won t! Think ef he d cut loose, I gum ! D hc p his heavenly chances some ! Mylo s wife don t see no use, Ner no reason ner excuse Fer his pore relations to Hang round like they allus do ! Thare bout onc t a year and she She jest ga nts em, folks tells me, THE HOOSIER BOOK On spiced pears ! Pass Mylo one, He says "No, he don t chuse none !" Workin men like Mylo they D ort to have meat ev ry day ! Dad-burn Mylo Jones s wife ! Ruther rake a blame case-knife Crost my wizzen than to see Sich a womern rulin* me! Ruther take and turn in and Raise a fool mule-colt by hand ! Mylo, though od-rot the man ! Jest keeps ca m like some folks can- And low sich as her, I s pose, Is Man s he pmeet! Mercy knows! 21 Old John Clevcngcr on Buckeyes OLD John Clevenger lets on, Allus, like he s purty rough Timber. He s a grate old John ! "Rough ?" don t swaller no sich stuff ! Moved here, sence the war was through From Ohio somers near Old Bucyrus, loyal, too, As us "Hoosiers" is to here! Git old John stirred up a bit On his old home stompin -ground Talks same as he lived thare yit, When some subject brings it round 42 THE HOOSIER BOOK Like, fer instunce, Sund y last, Fetched his wife, and et and stayed All night with us. Set and gassed Tel plum midnight cause I made Some remark bout "buckeyes" and "What was buckeyes good fer ?" So, Like I lowed, he waved his hand And lit in and let me know : " What is Buckeyes good fer? What s Pineys and fcr-git-me-nots? Honeysuckles, and sweet peas, And sweet-williamsuz, and these Johnny-jump-ups ev rywhare, Growin round the roots o trees In Spring-weather ? what air they Good fer? kin you tell me Hey? Good to look at ? Well they air ! Specially when Winter s gone, Clean dead-ccrt in! and the wood s Green again, and sun feels good s June ! and shed your blame boots on The back porch, and lit out to Roam round like you ust to do, Bare-foot, up and down the crick, Whare the buckeyes growed so thick, And witch-hazel and pop-paws, And hackberries and black-haws With wild-pizen vines jis knit Over and en-nundcr it, And wove round it all, I jing! Tel you couldn t hardly stick A durn case-knife through the thing! 43 THE HOOSIER BOOK Wriggle round through that; and then All het-up, and scratched and tanned, And muskeeter-bit and mean- Feelin all at onc t again, Come out suddent on a clean Slopin little hump o green Dry soft grass, as fine and grand As a pollor-sofy! And Jis pile down thare ! and tell tne Anywharcs you d ruther be Ceptin right thare, with the wild- Flowrs all round ye, and your eyes Smilin with em at the skies, Happy as a little child ! Well ! right here, 7 want to say, Poets kin talk all they please Bout wild-flowrs, in colors gay, And sweet blossoms flauntin* theyr Beauteous fragrunce on the breeze But the sight o buckeyes jis Sweet to me as blossoms is ! "I m Ohio-born right whare People s all called Buckeyes thare Cause, I s pose, our buckeye crap s Biggest in the world, perhaps ! Ner my head don t stretch my hat Too much on account o that! Cause it s Natchur s ginerus hand Sows em broadcast ore the land, With eye-single fer man s good And the gineral neghborhood ! 44 THE HOOSIER BOOK So buckeyes jis natchurly Pears like kith-and-kin to me! S like the good old sayin wuz, Turty is as purty does! We can t eat em, cookd er raw Yit, I mind, tomattusus Wuz considered pizenus Onc t and dasent eat em ! Pshaw T wouldn t take me by supprise, Someday, ef we et buckeyes! That, though, s nuther here ner thare ! Jis the Buckeye whare we air, In the present times, is what Ockuppies my lovin care And my most perfotmdest thought ! . . . Guess, this minute, what I got: In my pocket, at I ve packed Purt nigh forty year. A dry, Slick and shiny, warped and cracked, Wilted, weazened old buckeye! What s it thare fer? W T hat s my hart In my brcst fer? Cause it s part Of my life and tends to biz Like this buckeye s bound to act Cause it tends to Rhumath! ". . . Ketched more rhumatiz than fish Seinen , onc t and pants froze on My blame legs !-r And ust to wish I wuz well er dead and gone! .Ji C ? oj i- j-// nio-}1 F>hgw txi J ibiiioa ,bfiA ! bnfl 1373 H uov vj)* jnod oVl 45 THE HOOSIER BOOK Doc give up the case, and shod His old hoss again and stayed On good roads! And thare I laid! Pap he tuck some bluegrass sod Steeped in whisky, bilin -hot, And socked that on ! Then I got Sorto* holt o him, somehow Kindo* crazy-like, they say And I d killed him, like as not, Ef I hadn t swooned away! Smell my scortcht pelt purt nigh now! Well to make a long tale short I hung on the blame disease Like a shavin -hoss ! and sort O wore it out by slow degrees Tel my legs wuz straight enugh To poke through my pants again And kick all the doctor-stuff In the fi-er-place! Then turned in And tuck Daddy Craig s old cuore Jls a buckeye and that s shore. Hain t no case o rhumatiz Kin subsist whare buckeyes is !" 22 The Hoss THE hoss he is a splendud beast; He is man s friend, as heaven desined, And, search the world from west to east, No honester you ll ever find ! 46 THE HOOSIER BOOK Some calls the boss "a pore dumb brute," And yit, like Him who died fer you, I say, as I theyr charge refute, " Fergive ; they know not what they do ! " No wiser animal makes tracks Upon these earthly shores, and hence Arose the axium, true as facts, Extoled by all, as "Good hoss-sense !" The hoss is strong, and knows his stren th, You hitch him up a time er two And lash him, and he ll go his len th And kick the dashboard out fer you ! But, treat him allus good and kind, And never strike him with a stick, Ner aggervate him, and you ll find He ll never do a hostile trick. A hoss whose master tends him right And worters him with daily care, Will do your biddin with delight, And act as docile as you air. He ll paw and prance to hear your praise, Because he s learnt to love you well ; And, though you can t tell what he says, He ll nicker all he wants to tell. He knows you when you slam the gate At early dawn, upon your way Unto the barn, and snorts elate, To git his corn, er oats, er hay. 47 THE HOOSIER BOOK He knows you, as the orphant knows The folks that loves her like theyr own, And raises her and "finds" her clothes, And "schools" her tel a womern-grown ! I claim no hoss will harm a man, Ner kick, ner run away, cavort, Stump-suck, er balk, er "catamaran," Ef you ll jest treat him as you ort. But when I see the beast abused, And clubbed around as I ve saw some, I want to see his owner noosed, And jest yanked up like Absolum! Of course they s differunce in stock, A hoss that has a little yeer, And slender build, and shaller hock, Can beat his shadder, mighty near ! Whilse one that s thick in neck and chist And big in leg and full in flank, That tries to race, I still insist He ll have to take the second rank. And I have jest laid back and laughed, And rolled and wallered in the grass At fairs, to see some heavy-draft Lead out at first, yit come in last! Each hoss has his appinted place, The heavy hoss should plow the soil ; The blooded racer, he must race, And win big wages fer his toil. 48 THE HOOSIER BOOK I never bet ner never wrought Upon my feller man to bet And yit, at times, I ve often thought Of my convictions with regret. ,XW anioa ,nnn siLt ^m** uifj HE Ju3 I bless the hoss from hoof to head From head to hoof, and tale to mane!--= I bless the hoss, as I have said, From head to hoof, and back again ! jsw bus \ib .^Dnjjiaixs I love my God the first of all, Then Him that perished on the cross, And next, my wife, and then I fall Down on my knees and love the hoss. 23 Wet-Weather Talk IT hain t no use to grumble and complane; It s jest as cheap and easy to rejoice. When God sorts out the weather and sends rain, W y, rain s my choice. Men ginerly, to all intents Although they re apt to grumble some Puts most theyr trust in Providence, And takes things as they come That is, the commonality Of men that s lived as long as me Has watched the world en ugh to learn They re not the boss of this concern. 49 THE HOOSIER BOOK With some, of course, it s different I ve saw young men that knowed it all, And didn t like the way things went On this terrestchul ball; But all the same, the rain, some way, Rained jest as hard on picnic day; Er, when they railly wanted it, It mayby wouldn t rain a bit ! In this existunce, dry and wet Will overtake the best of men- Some little ski ft o clouds ll shet The sun off now and then. And mayby, whilse you re wundern who You ve fool-like lent your umbrell to, And want it out ll pop the sun, And you ll be glad you hain t got none! It aggervates the farmers, too They s too much wet, er too much sun, Er work, er waitin* round to do Before the plowin s done: And mayby, like as not, the wheat, Jest as it s lookin hard to beat, Will ketch the storm and jest about The time the corn s a-jintm out. These-here cy-clones a-foolin round And back ard crops ! and wind and rain !- And yit the corn that s wallerd down May elbow up again ! THE HOOSIER BOOK They hain t no sense, as I can see, Per mortuls, sich as us, to be A-faultin Natchur s wise intents, And lockin horns with Providence ! It hain t no use to grumble and complane ; It s jest as cheap and easy to rejoice. When God sorts out the weather and sends rain, W y, rain s my choice. 24 Ezra House [These lines was writ, in ruther high sperits, jest at the close of what s called the Anti Bellum Days, and more to be a-foolin than anything else, though they is more er less facts in it. But some of the boys, at the time we was all a-singin it, ferEzry s benefit, to the old tune of "The Oak and the Ash and the Bonny Wilier Tree," got it struck off in the weekly, without leave er lisence of mine; and so sence they s allus some of em left to rigg me about it yit, I might as well claim the thing right here and now, so here goes. I give it jest as it appeared, fixed up and grammati- sizcd consider ble, as the editer told me he took the liburty of doin , in that sturling old home paper THE ADVANCE as sound a paper yit to-day and as stanch and abul as you ll find in a hunderd.] COME listen, good people, while a story I do tell, Of the sad fate of one which I knew so passing well; He enlisted at McCordsville, to battle in the South, And protect his country s union ; his name was Ezra House. THE HOOSIER BOOK He was a young school-teacher, and educated high In regards to Ray s arithmetic, and also Algebra : He give good satisfaction, but at his country s call He dropped his position, his Algebra and all. "It s oh, I m going to leave you, kind scholars," he said For he wrote a composition the last day and read ; And it brought many tears in the eyes of the school, To say nothing of his sweetheart he was going to leave so soon. "I have many recollections to take with me away, Of the merry transpirations in the schoolroom so gay; And of all that s past and gone I will never regret I went to serve my country at the first of the outset !" He was a good penman, and the lines that he wrote On that sad occasion was too fine for me to quote, For I was there and heard it, and I ever will recall It brought the happy tears to the eyes of us all. And when he left, his sweetheart she fainted away, And said she could never forget the sad day When her lover so noble, and gallant and gay, Said "Fare you well, my true love !" and went marching away. But he hadn t been gone for more than two months, When the sad news come "he was in a skirmish once, And a cruel Rebel ball had wounded him full sore In the region of the chin, through the canteen he wore." 52 THE IIOOSIER BOOK But his health recruited up, and his wounds they got well, But whilst he was in battle at Bull Run or Malvern Hill, The news come again, so sorrowful to hear "A sliver from a bombshell cut off his right ear." But he stuck to the boys, and it s often he would write, That "he wasn t afraid for his country to fight." But oh, had he returned on a furlough, I believe He would not, to-day, have such cause to grieve. For in another battle the name I never heard He was guarding the wagons when an accident occurred, A comrade who was under the influence of drink, Shot him with a musket through the right cheek, I think. But his dear life was spared ; but it hadn t been for long, Till a cruel Rebel colonel come riding along, And struck him with his sword, as many do suppose, For his cap-rim was cut off, and also his nose. But Providence, who watches o er the noble and the brave, Snatched him once more from the jaws of the grave; And just a little while before the close of the war, He sent his picture home to his girl away so far. And she fell into decline, and she wrote in reply, "She had seen his face again and was ready to die" ; And she wanted him to promise, when she was in her tomb. He would only visit that by the light of the moon. But he never returned at the close of the war, And the boys that got back said he hadn t the heart ; But he got a position in a powder-mill, and said He hoped to meet the doom that his country denied. 53 THE HOOSIER BOOK ?5 A Pen-Pictur of a C erf in Friv- volus Old Man MOST ontimely old man yit! Tear-like sometimes he jest trie* His fool-self, and takes the bitt In his teeth and jest de-fies All perpryties ! Lay and swet Doin* nothin only jest Sorto speckillatun on Whare old summer-times is gone, And bout things that he loved best When a youngster ! Heerd him say Spring-times made him thataway Speshully on Sund ys when Sun shines out and in again, And the lonesome old hens they Git off under the old kern- Bushes, and in deep concern Talk-like to theyrselves, and scratch Kindo* absunt-minded, jest Like theyr thoughts was fur away In some neghbor s gyarden-patch Folks has tended keerfullest! Heerd the old man dwell on these Idys time and time again ! Heerd him claim that orchurd-trees Bloomin , put the mischief in His old hart sometimes that bad And owdacious that he "had To break loose someway" says he s "Ornry as I ust to be !" 54 THE HOOSIER BOOK Heerd him say one time when I Was a sorto standin by, And the air so still and clear, Heerd the bell f er church clean here !- Said : "Ef I could climb and set On the old three-cornered rail Old home-place, nigh Maryette , Swop my soul off, hide and tale !" And-sir ! blame ef tear and laugh Didn t ketch him half and half ! "Oh !" he says, "to wake and be Barefoot, in the airly dawn In the pastur ! thare," says he, "Standin whare the cow s slep* on The cold, dewy grass that s got Print of her jest steamy hot Fer to warm a feller s heels In a while ! How good it feels ! Sund y ! Country ! Morning ! Hear Nothin but the silunce see Nothin but green woods and clear Skies and unwrit poetry By the acre ! . . . Oh !" says he, "What s this voice of mine? to seek To speak out, and yit can t speak ! "Think! the lazyest of days" Takin his contrairyest leap, He went on, "git up, er sleep Er whilse feedin , watch the haze Dancin crost the wheat, and keep 55 THE HOOSIER BOOK My pipe goin laisurely Puff and whiff as pleases me, Er I ll leave a trail of smoke Through the house! no one ll say Throw that nasty thing away! Pear-like nothin* sacerd s broke, Goin barefoot ef I chuse ! I have fiddled; and dug bait And "went fishin ; pitched hoss-shoes Whare they couldn t see us from The main road. And I ve beat some. I ve set round and had my joke With the thrashers at the barn And I ve swapped em yarn f er yarn ! Er I ve he pped the childern poke Per hens -nests agged on a match Twixt the boys, to watch em scratch And paw round and rip and tare, And bu st buttons and pull hair To theyr rompin harts content And me jest a-settin thare Hatchin out more devilment ! "What you s pose now ort to be Done with sich a man?" says he "Sich a f ool-old-rnan as me !" THE HOOSIER BOOK 26 Thoughts on a Pore Joke I LIKE fun and I like jokes Bout as well as most o folks ! Like my joke, and like my fun ; But a joke, I ll state right here, S got some p int er I don t keer Fer no joke that hain t got none. I hain t got no use, I ll say, Fer a pore joke, anyway! F r instunce, now, when some folks gits To relyin on theyr wits, Ten to one they git too smart And spile it all, right at the start ! Feller wants to jest go slow And do his thinkin first, you know. F I can t think up somepin good, I set still and chaw my cood ! F you think nothin jest keep on, But don t say it er you re gone I nib -r.vjbbx tfno ;.-n onJ ?!i,>a 27 A Mortul Prayer OH ! Thou that veileth from all eyes The glory of Thy face, And setteth throned behind the skies In Thy abiding-place : Though I but dimly reco nize Thy purposes of grace; 57 THE HOOSIER BOOK And though with weak and wavering Deserts, and vexed with fears, I lift the hands I can not wring All dry of sorrow s tears, Make puore my prayers that daily wing Theyr way unto Thy ears ! Oh ! with the hand that tames the flood And smooths the storm to rest, Make ba mmy dews of all the blood That stormeth in my brest, And so refresh my hart to bud And bloom the loveliest. Lull all the clammer of my soul To silunce ; bring release Unto the brane still in controle Of doubts ; bid sin to cease, And let the waves of pashun roll And kiss the shores of peace. Make me love my feller man- Yea, though his bitterness Doth bite as only adders can Let me the fault confess, And go to him and clasp his hand And love him none the less. So keep me, Lord, f erever free From vane concete er whim ; And he whose plus eyes can see My faults, however dim, Oh ! let him pray the least f er me. And me the most fer him. 58 THE HOOSIER BOOK 28 The First Bluebird "3 :, Ur aiiUB y:iiboibaiq r. cr^UKr JEST rain and snow! and rain again! And dribble ! drip ! and blow ! Then snow ! and thaw ! and slush ! and then- Some more rain and snow ! This morning I was most afeard To wake up when, I jing! I seen the sun shine out and heerd The first bluebird of Spring! Mother she d raised the winder some ; And in acrost the orchurd come, Soft as a angel s wing, A breezy, treesy, beesy hum, Too sweet fer anything! The winter s shroud was rent apart- The sun bu st forth in glee, And when that bluebird sung, my hart Hopped out o bed with me ! 29 On Any Or denary Man In a High State of Lauc/hture and Delight AS it s give me to perceive, I most cert in y believe When a man s jest glad plum through, God s pleased with him, same as 59 THE HOOSIER BOOK jo Town and Country THEY S a predjudice allus twixt country and town Which I wisht in my hart wasent so. You take city people, jest square up and down, And they re mighty good people to know : And whare s better people a-livin , to-day, Than us in the country? Yit good As both of us is, we re divorsed, you might say, And won t compermise when we could ! Now as nigh into town fer yer Pap, ef you please, Is what s called the sooburbs. Fer thare You ll at least ketch a whiff of the breeze and a sniff Of the breth of wild-flowrs ev rywhare. They s room fer the childern to play, and grow, too And to roll in the grass, er to climb Up a tree and rob nests, like they orient to do, But they ll do anyhow ev ry time ! My Son-in-law said, when he lived in the town, He jest natchurly pined, night and day, Fer a sight of the woods, er a acre of ground Whare the trees wasent all cleared away ! And he says to me onc t, whilse a-visitin us On the farm, "It s not strange, I declare, That we can t coax you folks, without raisin* a fuss, To come to town, visitin thare !" And says T, "Then gil back whare you sorto* belong And Madaline, too, and yer three Little childern," says I, "that don t know a bird-song, Ner a hawk from a chicky-dee-dee ! 60 THE HOOSIER BOOK Git back," I-says-I, "to the blue of the sky And the green of the fields, and the shine Of the sun, with a laugh in yer voice and yer eye As harty as Mother s and mine !" Well long-and-short of it, he s compermised some He s moved in the sooburbs. And now They don t haf to coax, when they want us to come, Cause we turn in and go anyhow! Per thare well, they s room fer the songs and purfume Of the grove and the old orchurd-ground, And they s room fer the childern out thare, and they s room Fer theyr Gran pap to waller em round ! ji Decoration Day on tile Place IT S lonesome sorto* lonesome, it s a Sund y-day, to me, It pears-like more n any day I nearly ever see ! Yit, with the Stars and Stripes above, a-flutterin in the air, On ev ry Soldier s grave I d love to lay a lily thare. They say, though, Decoration Day is giner ly observed Most ev rywhares espeshally by soldier-boys that s served. But me and Mother s never went we seldom git away, In p int o* fact, we re allus home on Decoration Day. 61 THE HOOSIER BOOK They say the old boys marches through the streets in colum s grand, A-follerin the old war-tunes they re playin on the band i And citizuns all jinin in and little childern, too All marchin , under shelter of the old Red White and Blue. With roses 1 roses ! roses ! ev rybody in the town ! And crowds o* little girls in white, jest fairly loaded down ! Oh ! don t THE BOYS know it, from theyr camp acrost the hill? Don t they see theyr com ards comin* and the old flag wavin still? Oh ! can t they hear the bugul and the rattle of the drum? Ain t they no way under heavens they can rickollect us some? Ain t they no way we can coax em, through the roses, jest to say They know that ev ry day on earth s theyr Decoration Day ? We ve tried that me and Mother, whare Elias takes his rest, In the orchurd in his uniform, and hands acrost his brest, And the flag he died f er, smilin and a-ripplin in the breeze Above his grave and over that, the robin in the trees! And yit if s lonesome lonesome ! It s a Sund y-day, to me, It pears-like more n any day I nearly ever see ! Still, with the Stars and Stripes above, a-flutterin in the air, On ev ry Soldier s grave I d love to lay a lily thare. 62 THE HOOSIER BOOK 32 The Rcssz ille Lectur Course [Set down from the real facts of the case that come un der notice of the author whilse visitun far distant relatives who ivuz then residin at Rossville, Mich.] FOLKS up here at Rossville got up a Lectur Course : All the leadin citizens they wuz out in force ; Met and talked at Williamses , and greed to meet ag in ; And helt another corkus when the next reports wuz in : Met ag in at Samuelses ; and met ag in at Moore s And Johnts putt the shutters up and jest barr d the door! And yit, I ll jest be dagg-don d ! eft didn t take a week Fore we d settled whare to write to git a man to speak ! Found out whare the "Bureau" wuz; and then and thara agreed To strike whilse the iron s hot and foller up the lead. Simp wuz Secatary; so he tuk his pen in hand, And ast em what they d tax us fer the one on "Holy Land" "One of Colonel J. De-Koombs s Abelust and Best Lectur s," the circ lar stated, "Give East er West !" Wanted fifty dollars and his kyar-fare to and from, And Simp wuz hence instructed fer to write him not t<\ come. Then we talked and jawed around another week er so, And writ the "Bureau" bout the town a-bein sorto slow Old-fogey-like, and pore as dirt, and lackin interprise And ignornter n any other, cordin to its size: 63 THE HOOSIER BOOK Tel finully the "Bureau" said they d send a cheaper man Per forty dollars, who would give "A Talk About Japan" "A reg lar Japanee hise f," the pamphlet claimed ; and so, Nobody knowed his languige, and of course we let him go ! Kindo* then let up a spell but rallied onc t ag in, And writ to price a feller on what s called the "violin" A Swede, er Pole, er somepin but no matter what he wuz, Doc Cooper said he d heerd him, and he wuzn t wuth a kuss ! And then we ast fer Swlngse s terms; and Cook, and Ing er soil And blame ! ef forty dollars looked like anything at all ! And then Burdette, we tried fer him; and Bob he writ to say He wuz busy writin ortographts and couldn t git away. At last along in Aprile we signed to take this-here Bill Nye of Californy, at wuz posted to appear "The Comicalest Funny Man at Ever Jammed a Hall !" So we made big preperations, and swep* out the church and all! And night he wuz to lectur , and the neghbors all wuz thare, And strangers packed along the aisles at come from ev ry- whare, Committee got a telegrapht the preacher read, at run "Got off at Rossville, Indiany, stid of Michigun." THE HOOSIER BOOK A Dos t o Blues I GOT no patience with blues at all ! And I list to kind o talk Ag inst em, and claim, tel along last Fall, They wuz none in the f ambly stock ; But a nephew of mine, from Eelinoy, That visitud us last year, He kind o convinct me differunt Whilse he wuz a-stayin here. From ev ry-which-way that blues is from, They d pester him ev ry-ways ; They d come to him in the night, and come On Sund ys, and rainy days ; They d tackle him in corn-plantin time, And in harvest, and airly Fall, But a dos t o blues in the Winter-time, He lowed, wuz the worst of all ! Said "All diseases that ever he had The mumps, er the rhumatiz Er ev ry-other-day-aigger bad As ever the blame thing is ! Er a cyarbuncle, say, on the back of his neck, Er a felon on his thumb, But you keep the blues away from him, And all o the rest could come !" And he d moan, "They s nary a leaf below I Ner a spear o grass in sight! And the whole wood-pile s clean under snow ! And the days is dark as night 1 THE HOOSIER BOOK You can t go out ner you can t stay in- Lay down stand up ner set!" And a tetch o regular tyfoid-blues Would double him jest clean shetl I writ his parunts a postal-kyard He could stay tel Spring-time come ; And Aprile first, as I rickollect Wuz the day we shipped him home ! Most o his relatives, sence then, Has eether give up, er quit, Er jest died off; but I understand He s the same old color yit ! 34 Pap s Old Sayin* PAP had one old-fashioned sayin That I ll never quite fergit And they s seven growed-up childern Of us rickollects it yit! Settin* round the dinner-table, Talkin bout our friends, perhaps, Er abusin* of our neghbors, I kin hear them words o Pap s "Shet up, and eat yer vittels !" Pap he d never argy with us, Ner cut any subject short Whilse we all kep clear o gossip, And wuz actin as we ort : 66 THE HOOSIER BOOK But ef we d git out o order Like sometimes a fambly is,? Faultin folks, er one another, Then we d hear that voice o his "Shet up, and eat yer vittels 1" Wuz no hand hisse f at talkin Never hadn t much to say, Only, as I said, pervidin When we d rile him thataway: Then he d allus lose his temper Spite o fate, and jerk his head And slam down his case-knife vicious* Whilse he glared around and said "Shet up, and eat yer vittels !" Mind last time at Pap was ailin* With a misery in his side, And had hobbled in the kitchen Jest the day before he died, Laury Jane she ups and tells him, "Pap, you re pale as pale kin be Hain t ye feard them-air cowcumbers Hain t good f er ye ?" And says he, "Shet up, and eat yer vittels !" Well ! I ve saw a-many a sorrow, Forty year , through thick and thin ; I ve got best, and I ve got worsted, Time and time and time ag in ! THE HOOSIER BOOK But I ve met a-many a trouble That I hain t run on to twice, Haltin -like and thinkin over Them-air words o* Pap s advice : "Shet up, and eat yer vittels 1" J5 An Old Man s Memory THE delights of our childhood is soon passed away, And our gloryus youth it departs, And yit, dead and hurried, they s blossoms of May Ore theyr medderland graves in our harts. So, friends of my barefooted days on the farm, Whether truant in city er not, God prosper you same as He s prosperin* me, Whilse your past hain t despised er forgot. Oh ! they s nothin , at morn, that s as grand unto me As the glorys of Natchur so fare, With the Spring in the breeze, and the bloom in the trees, And the hum of the bees ev rywhare ! The green in the woods, and the birds in the boughs, And the dew spangled over the fields ; And the bah of the sheep and the bawl of the cows And the call from the house to your meals ! Then ho ! f er your brekf ast ! and ho ! f er the toil That waiteth alike man and beast ! Oh ! it s soon with my team I ll be turnin up soil, Whilse the sun shoulders up in the East 68 THE HOOSIER BOOK Ore the tops of the ellums and beeches and oaks, To smile his Godspeed on the plow, And the furry and seed, and the Man in his need, And the joy of the swet of his brow 1 Lines to Perfesser John Clark Rldpath [Cumposed by A Old Friend of the Fambily sence way back in the Forties, when they Settled nigh Fillntore, Put nam County, this State, whare John was borned and growed up, you might say, like the wayside flower.] YOUR neghbors in the country, whare you come from, hain t f ergot ! We knowed you even better than your own-self, like as not. We profissied your runnin -geers ud stand a soggy load And pull her, purty stiddy, up a mighty rocky road : We been a-watchin your career sence you could write your name But way you writ it first, I ll say, was jest a burnin shame ! Your "J. C." in the copy-book, and "Ridpath" mercy- sakes ! Quiled up and tide in dubble bows, lookt like a nest o snakes ! But you could read it, I suppose, and kindo gloted on A-bein "/. C. Ridpath" when we only called you "John." 69 THE HOOSIER BOOK But you d work s well as fool, and what you had to do was done : We ve watched you at the wood-pile not the wood-shed wasent none, And snow and sleet, and haulin , too, and lookin* after stock, And milkin , nights, and feedin* pigs, then turnin back the clock, So s you could set up studyin your Rethmatic, and fool Your Parents, whilse a-piratin your way through winter school I And I ve heerd tell from your own folks you ve set and baked your face A-readin Plutark Slives all night by that old fi-er-place. Yit, bout them times, the blackboard, onc t, had on it, I tf^-clare, "Yours truly, /. Clark Ridpath." And the teacher left it thare ! And they was other symptums, too, that pinted, plane as day, To nothin short of College! and one was the lovin way Your mother had of cheerin you to efforts brave and strong, And puttin more faith in you, as you needed it along : She d pat you on the shoulder, er she d grab you by the hands, And laugh sometimes, er cry sometimes. They s few that understands Jest what theyr mother s drivin at when they act that- away ; But I ll say this fer you, John-Clark, you answered, night and day, 7Q THE HOOSIER BOOK To ev ry trust and hope of hers and half your College fame Was battled fer and won fer her and glory of her name. The likes of you at College! But you went thare. How you paid Your way nobody s astin but you worked, you hain t afraid, Your clothes was, more n likely, kindo out o style, perhaps, And not as snug and warm as some at hid the other chaps ; But when it come to Intullect they tell me yourn was dressed A leetle mite siipcrber-like than any of the rest! And there you stayed and thare you ve made your rickord, fare and square Tel now it s Fame at writes your name, approving ev ry- whare Not jibblets of it, nuther, but all John Clark Ridpath, set Plum at the dashboard of the whole-endurin Alfabet ! J7 Us. Farmers in the Country US farmers in the country, as the seasons go and come, Is purty much like other folks, we re apt to grumble some ! The Spring s too back ard fer us, er too for ard ary one We ll jaw about it anyhow, and have our way er none! 71 THE HOOSIER BOOK The thaw s set in too suddent; er the frost s stayed in the soil Too long to give the wheat a chance, and crops is bound to spoil. The weather s eether most too mild, er too outrageous rough, And altogether too much rain, er not half rain enugh ! Now what I d like and what you d like is plane enugh to see: It s jest to have old Providence drop round on you and me And ast us what our views is first, regardin shine er rain, And post em when to shet her off, er let her on again ! And yit I d ruther, after all consider n other chores I got on hands, a-tendin* both to my affares and yours I d ruther miss the blame I d git, a-rulin* things up thare, And spend my extry time in praise and gratitude and prayer. AFTERWHILES A Rome-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- nuf 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 Til! the moon was up, and you thought I d gone Fast asleep, That was all put on ! For I was a-watchin something queer Coin 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 g hist 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 thrilled 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 I 73 THE HOOSIER BOOK The purtiest, dainties* 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! X jp Old-Fashioned Roses THEY ain t no style about em, And they re sort o pale and faded, Yit the doorway here, without em, Would be lonesomer, and shaded With a good eal blacker shadder Than the morning-glories makes, And the sunshine would look sadder Per their good old-fashion sakes. I like em cause they kind o Sort o make a feller like em ! And I tell you, when I find a Bunch out whur the sun kin strike em, It allus sets me thinkin O the ones at used to grow And peek in thro* the chinkin* O the cabin, don t you know ! And then I think o mother, And how she ust to love em When they wuzn t any other, Less she found em up above em! 74 THE HOOSIER BOOK And her eyes, afore she shut em, Whispered with a smile and said We must pick a bunch and putt em In her hand when she wuz dead. But, as I wuz a-sayin , They ain t no style about em Very gaudy er displayin , But I wouldn t be without em Cause I m happier in these posies, And the hollyhawks and sich, Than the hummin -bird at noses In the roses of the rich. 40 Griggsby s Station PAP S got his pattent-right, and rich as all creation ; But where s the peace and comfort that we all had before? Lc s go a-visitin back to Griggsby s Station Back where we ust to be so happy and so pore ! The likes of us a-livin here ! It s jest a mortal pity To see us in this great big house, with cyarpets on the stairs, And the pump right in the kitchen! And the city! city! city! And nothin but the city all around us ever wheres ! 75 THE HOOSIER BOOK Climb clean above the roof and look from the steeple, And never see a robin, nor a beech or ellum tree ! And right here in ear-shot of at least a thousan people, And none that neighbors with us or we want to go and see! Le s go a-visitin back to Griggsby s Station Back where the latch-string s a-hangin* from the door, And ever neighbor round the place is dear as a relation- Back where we ust to be so happy and so pore ! I want to see the Wiggenses, the whole kit-and-bilin , A-drivin up from Shallor Ford to stay the Sunday through ; And I want to see em hitchin* at their son-in-law s and pilin* Out there at Lizy Ellen s like they ust to do ! I want to see the piece-quilts the Jones girls is makin ; And I want to pester Laury bout their freckled hired hand, And joke her bout the widower she come purt nigh a-takin , Till her Pap got his pension lowed in time to save his land. Le s go a-visitin back to Griggsby s Station Back where they s nothin aggervatin any more, Shet away safe in the woods around the old location Back where we ust to be so happy and so pore I THE HOOSIER BOOK 1 want to see Marindy and he p her with her sewin , And hear her talk so lovin of her man that s dead and gone, And stand up with Emanuel to show me how he s growin , And smile as I have saw her fore she putt her mournin on. And I want to see the -Samples, on the old lower eighty, Where John, our oldest boy, he was tuk and hurried for His own sake and Katy s and I want to cry with Katy As she reads all his letters over, writ from The War. , ,,-:- lib ?^ t -r. \-A 3tlj eA A What s in all this grand life and high situation, And nary pink nor hollyhawk a-bloomin at the door ? Le s go a-visitin back to Griggsby s Station- Back where we ust to be so happy and so pore ! Knee-Deep in June TELL you what I like the best Long about knee-deep in June, Bout the time strawberries melts On the vine, some afternoon Like to j es git out and rest, And not work at nothin* else ! THE HOOSIER BOOK Orchard s where I d ruther be Needn t fence it in f er me ! Jes the whole sky overhead, And the whole airth underneath* Sort o so s a man kin breathe Like he ort, and kind o has Elbow-room to keerlessly Sprawl out len thways on the grass Where the shadders thick and soft As the kivvers on the bed Mother fixes in the loft Allus, when they s company 1 in Jes a-sort o lazin there S lazy, at you peek and peer Through the wavin* leaves above, Like a feller at s in love And don t know it, ner don t keer ! Ever thing you hear and see Got some sort o interest Maybe find a bluebird s nest Tucked up there conveenently Fer the boy at s ap to be Up some other apple-tree ! Watch the swallers skootin past Bout as peert as you could ast ; Er the Bob-white raise and whiz Where some other s whistle is. 78 THE HOOSIER BOOK IV Ketch a shadder down below, And look up to find the crow Er a hawk, away up there, Tearantly jroze in the air ! Hear the old hen squawk, and squat Over ever chick she s got, Suddent-like ! and she knows where That-air hawk is, well as you ! You jes bet yer life she do! Eyes a-glitterin like glass, Waitin till he makes a pass ! Fee-wees singin , to express My opinion, s second class, Yit you ll hear em more er less ; Sapsucks gittin down to biz, Weedin out the lonesomeness ; Mr. Bluejay, full o sass, In them base-ball clothes o* hcs, Sportin round the orchard jes Like he owned the premises ! Sun out in the fields kin sizz, But flat on yer back, I guess, In the shade s where glory is ! That s jes what I d like to do Stiddy f er a year er two ! 79 THE HOOSIER BOOK VI Plague ! ef they ain t somepin in Work at kind o goes ag in My convictions ! long about Here in June especially ! Under some old apple-tree, Jes a-restin through and through,, I could git along without Nothin else at all to do Only jes a-wishin* you Wuz a-gittin there like me, And June was eternity ! VII Lay out there and try to see Jes how lazy you kin be ! Tumble round and souse yer head In the clover-bloom, er pull Yer straw hat acrost yer eyes And peek through it at the skies, Thinkin of old chums at s dead, Maybe, smilin back at you In betwixt the beautiful Clouds o* gold and white and blue!- Month a man kin railly love June, you know, I m talkin* of ! So THE HOOSIER BOOK VIII March ain t never nothin* new ! Aprile s altogether too Brash fer me! and May I jes Bominate its promises, Little hints o sunshine and Green around the timber-land A few blossoms, and a few Chip-birds, and a sprout er two, >.fb Drap asleep, and it turns in Fore daylight and snows ag in ! But when June comes Clear my th oat With wild honey ! Rench my hair In the dew ! and hold my coat ! Whoop out loud ! and th ow my hat !- June wants me, and I m to spare! Spread them shadders anywhere, I ll git down and waller there, And obleeged to you at that ! 42 When the Hearse Comes Back \ THING at s bout as tryin as a healthy man kin meet /\ Is some poor feller s funeral a-joggin long the street : The slow hearse and the hosses slow enough, to say the least, Fer to even tax the patience of the gentleman deceased ! The low scrunch of the gravel and the slow grind of the wheels, The slow, slow go of ev ry woe at ev rybody feels ! 81 THE HOOSIER BOOK So I ruther like the contrast when I hear the whip-lash crack A quickstep fer the hosses, When the Hearse Comes Back! Meet it goin to ards the cimet ry, you ll want to clrap yer eyes But ef the plumes don t fetch you, it ll ketch you other wise You ll haf to see the caskit, though you d ort to look away And conomize and save yer sighs fer any other day I Yer sympathizin won t wake up the sleeper from his rest Yer tears won t thaw them hands o his at s froze acrost his hreast! And this is why when airth and sky s a-gittin blurred and black I like the flash and hurry When the Hearse Comes Back! It s not cause I don t predate it ain t no time fer jokes, Ner cause I got no common human f eelin fer the folks ; I ve went to funerals mys ef, and tuk on some, perhaps Fer my heart s bout as mal able as any other chap s, I ve buried father, mother But I ll haf to jes git you To "excuse me" as the feller says. The p int I m drivin to THE HOOSIER BOOK Is, simply, when we re plum broke down and all knocked out o whack, It he ps to shape us up, like, When the Hearse Comes Back! The idy ! wadin round here over shoe-mouth deep in woe, When they s a graded pike o joy and sunshine, don t you know ! When evening strikes the pastur , cows ll pull out fer the bars, And skittish-like from out the night ll prance the happy stars. And so when my time comes to die, and I ve got ary friend At wants expressed my last request I ll, mebby, rickom- mend To drive slow, ef they haf to, goin long the out ard track, But I ll smile and say, "You speed em When the Hearse Comes Back !" A Canary at the Farm FOLKS has be n to town, and Sahry Fetched er home a pet canary, And of all the blame , contrary, Aggervatin things alive! 83 THE HOOSIER BOOK I love music that s I love it When it s free and plenty of it; But I kindo git above it, At a dollar-eighty-five ! Reason s plain as I m a-sayin%-^ Jes* the idy, now, o layin* Out yer money, and a-payin* Fer a wilier-cage and bird, When the medder-larks is wingin* Round you, and the woods is ringin 9 With the beautifullest singin That a mortal ever heard ! Sahry s sot, tho . So I tell her He s a purty little feller, With his wings o* creamy-yeller, And his eyes keen as a cat; And the twitter o the critter Pears to absolutely glitter ! Guess I ll haf to go and git her A high-priceter cage n that! A Liz-Town Humorist O ETTIN round the stove, last night, ^-^ Down at Wess s store, was me And Mart Strimples, Tunk, and White, And Doc Bills, and two er three Fellers o the Mudsock tribe No use tryin* to describe ! And says Doc, he says, says he, 84 THE HOOSIER BOOK "Talkin* bout good things to eat, Ripe mushmillon s hard to beat !" I chawed on. And Mart he lowed Wortermillon beat the mush. "Red," he says, "and juicy Hush! I ll jes leave it to the crowd !" Then a Mudsock chap, says he, "Punkin s good enough fer me Punkin pies, I mean," he says, "Them beats trillions ! What say, Wess T I chawed on. And Wess says, "Well, You jes fetch that wife of mine All yer wortermillon-nw^ And she ll bile it down a spell In with sorghum, I suppose, And what else, Lord only knows ! But I m here to tell all hands Them p serves meets my demands !" I chawed on. And White he says, > "Well, I ll jes stand in with Wess I m no hog !" And Tunk says, "I Guess I ll pastur out on pie With the Mudsock boys !" says he ; "Now what s yourn ?" he says to me : I chawed on fer quite a spell Then I speaks up, slow and dry, "Jes tobacker !" I-says-I. And you d ort o heerd em yell ! THE HOOSIER BOOK Kingry s Mill ON old Brandywine about Where White s Lots is now laid ou And the old crick narries down To the ditch that splits the town, Kingry s Mill stood. Hardly see Where the old dam ust to be ; Shallor, long, dry trought o grass Where the old race ust to pass ! That s be n forty years ago Forty years o frost and. snow Forty years o shade and shine Sence them boyhood-days o mine ! All the old landmarks o town Changed about, er rotted down ! Where s the Tanyard? Where s the Still? Tell me where s old Kingry s Mill? Don t seem furder back, to me, I ll be dogg d ! than yisterd y, Since us fellers, in bare feet And straw hats, went through the wheat Cuttin crost the shortest shoot Fer that-air old ellum root Jest above the mill-dam where The blame cars now crosses there ! 86 THE HOOSIER BOOK Through the willers down the crick We could see the old mill stick Its red gable up, as if It jest knowed we d stol d the skiff! See the winders in the sun Blink like they wuz wunderun What the miller ort to do With sich boys as me and you ! But old Kingry ! who could fear That old chap, with all his cheer? Leanin at the winder-sill, Er the half-door o the mill, Swappin lies, and pokin fun, N jigglin* like his hoppers done Laughin grists o gold and red Right out o the wagon-bed ! What did he keer where we went?- "Jest keep out o devilment, And don t fool around the belts, Bolts, ner burrs, ner nothin else Bout the blame machinery, And that s all I ast !" says-ee. Then we d climb the stairs, and play In the bran-bins half the day! Rickollect the dusty wall, And the spider-webs, and all ! Rickollect the trimblin spout Where the meal come josslin out THE HOOSIER BOOK Stand and comb yer fingers through The fool-truck an hour er two- Felt so sort o warm-like and. Soothin to a feller s hand ! Climb, high up above the stream, And "coon" out the wobbly beam And peek down from out the lof Where the weather-boards was off- Gee-mun-nee! w y, it takes grit Even jest to think of it! Lookin way down there below On the worter roarin so ! Rickollect the flume, and wheel, And the worter slosh and reel And jest ravel out in froth Flossier n satin cloth! Rickollect them paddles jest Knock the bubbles galley-west, And plunge under, and come up, Drippin like a worter-pup ! And, to see them old things gone That I onc t was bettin on, In rale p int o fact, I feel Kind o like that worter-wheel, Sort o drippy-like and wet Round the eyes but paddlin yet, And, in mem ry, loafin still Down around old Kingry s Milll 88 THE HOOSIER BOOK 46 Joney HAD a harelip Joney had : Spiled his looks and Joney knowed it Fellers tried to bore him, bad But ef ever he got mad, He kep still and never showed it. Druther have his mouth all pouted And split up, and like it wuz, Than the ones at laughed about it. Purty is as purty does ! Had to listen ruther clos t Fore you knowed what he wuz givin* You ; and yet, without no boast, Joney he wuz jest the most Entertainin talker livin ! Take the Scriptur s and run through em, Might say, like a auctioneer, And ud argy and review em At wuz beautiful to hear ! Harelip and impediment, Both wuz bad and both ag in him But the old folks where he went, Feared like, knowin his intent, Scused his mouth fer what wuz in him. And the childern all loved Joney And he loved em back, you bet ! Putt their arms around him on y None had ever kissed him yet! THE HOOSIER BOOK In young company, someway, Boys ud grin at one another On the sly ; and girls ud lay Low, with nothin much to say, Er leave Joney with their mother. Many and many a time he s fetched em Candy by the paper-sack, And turned right around and ketched em Makin mouths behind his back! S prised, sometimes, the slurs he took. Chap said onc t his mouth looked sorter Like a fish s mouth ud look When he d be n jerked off the hook And plunked back into the worter. Same durn feller it s su prisin , But it s facts at stood and cherred From the bank that big babtizin Pike-bridge accident occurred! Cherred for Joney while he give Life to little childern drowndin l Which wuz fittenest to live Him at cherred, er him at div* And saved thirteen lives? . . . They found one Body, three days later, floated Down the by-o, eight mile south, All so colored-up and bloated On y knowed him by his mouth 1 9 THE HOOSIER BOOK Had a harelip Joney bad- Folks at filed apast all knowed it. Them at ust to smile looked sad, But ef he thought good er bad, He kep still and never showed it. Druther have that mouth, all pouted And split up, and like it wuz, Than the ones at laughed about it.-^ Purty is as purty does ! Granny RANNY S come to our house, And ho ! my lawzy-daisy ! All the childern round the place Is ist a-runnin crazy ! Fetched a cake f er little Jake, And fetched a pie fer Nanny, And fetched a pear fer all the pack That runs to kiss their Granny 1 Lucy Ellen s in her lap, And Wade and Silas Walker Both s a-ridin on her foot, And Polios on the rocker ; And Marthy s twins, from Aunt Marinn s, And little Orphant Annie, All s a-eatin gingerbread And giggle-un at Granny I 91 THE HOOSIER BOOK Tells us all the fairy tales Ever thought er wundered And bundance o other, stories -> Bet she knows a hunderd ! Bob s the one fer "Whittington," And "Golden Locks" fer Fanny! Hear em laugh and clap their hands, Listenin at Granny! "Jack the Giant-Killer" s good; And "Bean-Stalk" s another! So s the one of "Cinderell " And her old godmother ; That-un s best of all the rest Bestest one of any, Where the mices scampers home Like we runs to Granny ! Granny s come to our house, Ho ! my lawzy-daisy ! All the childern round the place Is ist a-runnin crazy! Fetched a cake fer little Jake, And fetched a pie fer Nanny, And fetched a pear fer all the pack That runs to kiss their Granny! 92 THE HOOSIER BOOK 48 The Train-Misser AT UNION STATION TL where in the world my eyes has bin 1 -Lj Ef I hain t missed that train ag inl Chuff ! and whistle ! and toot ! and ring ! But blast and blister the dasted train ! How it does it I can t explain ! Git here thirty-five minutes before The durn thing s due ! and, drat the thing! It ll manage to git past shore 1 The more I travel around, the more I got no sense ! To stand right here And let it beat me ! LI ding my melts 1 I got no gumption, ner nothin else ! Ticket Agent s a dad-burned bore ! Sell you a ticket s all they keer I* Ticket Agents ort to all be Prosecuted and that s jes what! How d I know which train s fer me? And how d I know which train was not? Goern and comin and gone astray, And backin* and switchin ever -which-way ! Ef I could jes sneak round behind Myse f, where I could git full swing, I d lift my coat, and kick, by jing! Till I jes got jerked up and fined ! "/! *3 93 THE HOOSIER BOOK Fer here I stood, as a durn fool s apt To, and let that train jes chuff and choo Right apast me and mouth jes gapped Like a blamed old sandwitch warped in two ! 49 Like His Mother Used to Make "UNCLE JAKE S PLACE," ST. jo, MISSOURI, 1874 "T WAS born in Indiany," says a stranger lank and slim, JL As us fellers in the restarunt was kind o guyin him, And Uncle Jake was slidin* him another punkin pie And a* extry cup o coffee, with a twinkle in his eye, "I was born in Indiany more n forty year ago And I hain t be n back in twenty and I m workin back- ards slow ; But I ve et in ever* restarunt twixt here and Santy Fee, And I want to state this coffee tastes like gittin home, to me! "Pour us out another, Daddy," says the feller, warmin up, A-speakin crost a saucerful, as Uncle tuk his cup, "When I seed yer sign out yander," he went on, to Uncle Jake,- " Come in and git some coffee like yer mother used to make I thought of my old mother, and the Posey County farm, And me a little kid ag in, a-hangm in her arm, As she set the pot a-bilin , broke the eggs and poured em And the feller kind o halted, with, a trimble in his chin : 94 THE HOOSIER BOOK And Uncle Jake he fetched the feller s coffee back, and stood As solemn, f er a minute, as a undertaker would ; Then he sort o turned and tiptoed to rds the kitchen door and nex , Here comes his old wife out with him, a-rubbin of her specs And she rushes fer the stranger, and she hollers out, "It s him! Thank God we ve met him comin ! Don t you know yer mother, Jim?" And the feller, as he grabbed her, says, "You bet I hain t forgot^- But," wipin of his eyes, says he, "yer coffee s mighty hotl" 50 Old October LD October s purt nigh gone, And the frosts is comin on Little heavier every day Like our hearts is thataway! Leaves is changin overhead Back from green to gray and red Brown and yeller, with their stems Loosenin on the oaks and e ms ; And the balance of the trees Gittin balder every breeze Like the heads we re scratchin* on 1 Old October s purt nigh gone. 95 THE HOOSIER BOOK I love Old October so, I can t bear to see her go Seems to me like losin some Old-home relative er chum Tears like sort o settin by Some old friend at sigh by sigh Was a-passin out o sight Into everlastin night ! Hickernuts a feller hears Rattlin down is more like tears Drappin* on the leaves below-^ I love Old October so ! Can t tell what it is about Old October knocks me out ! 3 I sleep well enough at night And the blamedest appetite Ever mortal man possessed, Last thing et, it tastes the best! Warnuts, butternuts, pawpaws, lies and limbers up my jaws Fer raal service, sich as new Pork, spareribs, and sausage, too.- Yit, fer all, they s somepin bout Old October knocks me out I THE HOOSIER BOOK jj Jim HE was jes a plain, ever -day, all-round kind of a jour.. Consumpted-lookin but la ! The jokeiest, wittiest, story-tellin , song-singin , laughin est j oiliest Feller you ever saw ! Worked at jes coarse work, but you kin bet he was fin* enough in his talk, And his f eelin s too ! Lordy ! ef he was on y back on his bench ag in to-day, a-carryin* on Like he ust to do 1 Any shopmate ll tell you there never was, on top o dirt, A better f eller n Jim ! You want a favor, and couldn t git it anywheres else You could git it o him ! Most free-heartedest man thataway in the world, I guess ! Give up ever nickel he s worth And, ef you d a-wanted it, and named it to him, and it was his, He d a* give you the earth ! Allus a-reachin out, Jim was, and a-he ppin some Pore feller on to his feet He d a never a keered how hungry he was hisse f, So s the feller got somepin to eat\ Didn t make no differ nce at all to him how he was dressed, He ust to say to me, "You togg out a tramp purty comfortable in winter-time, a-huntin a job, And he ll git along!" says he. 97 THE HOOSIER BOOK Jim didn t have, ner never could git ahead, so overly much O this world s goods at a time. Fore now I ve saw him, more n onc t, lend a dollar, and haf to, more n likely, Turn round and borry a dime ! Mebby laugh and joke about it hisse f fer a while then jerk his coat, And kind o square his chin, Tie on his apern, and squat hisse f on his old shoe-bench, And go to peggin ag in ! Patientest feller, too, I reckon, at ever jes natchurly Coughed hisse f to death ! Long enough after his voice was lost he d laugh in a whis per and say He could git ever thing but his breath "You fellers," he d sort o twinkle his eyes and say, "Is a-pilin on to me A mighty big debt fer that-air little weak-chested ghost o mine to pack Through all Eternity !" Now there was a man at jes peared-like, to me, At ortn t a never a died ! "But death hain t a-showin no favors," the old boss said "On y to Jim!" and cried: And Wigger, who puts up the best sewed-work in the shop Er the whole blame neighberhood, He says, "When God made Jim, I bet you He didn t do anything else that day But jes set around and feel good!" THE HOOSIER BOOK 52 A New Year s Time at Willards s i THE HIRED MAN TALKS HP HERE S old man Willards; an his wife; JL An Marg et S repty s sister; an There s me an I m the hired man ; An Tomps McClure, you bet yer life! Well, now, old Willards hain t so bad, Considerin the chance he s had. Of course, he s rich, an sleeps an eats Whenever he s a mind to : Takes An leans back in the Amen-seats An* thanks the Lord fer all he makes. That s purty much all folks has got Ag inst the old man, like as not ! But there s his woman jes the turn Of them-air two wild girls o hern Marg et an S repty allus in Fer any cuttin -up concern Church festibals, and foolishin Round Christmas-trees, an New Year s sprees- Set up to watch the Old Year go An New Year come sich things as these ; An turkey-dinners, don t you know ! 99 THE HOOSIER BOOK S repty s younger, an more gay, An purtier, an finer dressed Than Marg et is but, lawsy-day ! She hain t the independentest ! "Take care !" old Willards used to say, "Take care ! Let Marg et have her way, An* S repty, you go off an play On your melodeum !" But, best Of all, comes Tomps ! An* I ll be bound, Ef he hain t the beatin est Young chap in all the country round ! Ef you knowed Tomps you d like him, shore! They hain t no man on top o ground Walks into my affections more! An* all the Settlement ll say That Tomps was liked jes thataway By ever body, till he tuk A shine to S repty Willards. Then You d ort o see the old man buck An* h ist hisse f, an paw the dirt, An* hint that "common workin -men That didn t want their f eelin s hurt Ud better hunt fer comp ny where The folks was pore an didn t care !" The pine-blank facts is, the old man, Last Christmas was a year ago, Found out some presents Tomps had got Fer S repty, an hit made him hot Set down an tuk his pen in hand An* writ to Tomps an told him so IOQ THE HOOSIER BOOK On legal cap, in white an black, An* give him jes to understand "No Christmas-gifts o lily white An bear s-ile could fix matters right/ An wropped em up an sent em back! Well, S repty cried an snuffled round Consid able. But Marg et she Toed out another sock, an wound Her knittin up, an drawed the tea, An then set on the supper-things, An* went up in the !ot an dressed An through it all you d never guessed What she was up to ! An she brings Her best hat with her an her shawl, An gloves, an redicule, an all, An injirubbers, an comes down An tells em she s a-goin to town To he p the Christmas goin s-on Her Church got up. An go she does The best hosswoman ever was ! "An what ll WE do while you re gone ? " The old man says, a-tryin to be Agreeable. "Oh! you?" says she, "You kin jaw S repty, like you did, An slander Tomps !" An off she rid ! Now, this is all I m goin to tell Of this-here story that is, I Have done my very level best As fur as this, an here I "dwell," As auctioneers says, winkin* sly : Hit s old man Willards tells the rest. 101 THE HOOSIER BOOK THE OLD MAN TALKS Adzackly jes one year ago, This New Year s day, Tomps comes to me > In my own house, an whilse the folks Was gittin dinner, an he poke" His nose right in, an says. ->ays he : "I got yer note an re?--i it slow! You don t like tie, ner I don t you" He says, we re even there, you know I But you ve said, f urder, that no gal Of yourn kin marry me, er shall, An I d best shet off comin , too !" An* then he says, "Well, them s YOUR views ; s But, havin talked with S repty, we Have both agreed to disagree With your peculiar notions some; An that s the reason, I refuse To quit a-comin here, but come Not fer to threat, ner raise no skeer An spile yer turkey-dinner here, But jes fer S repty s sake, to sheer Yer New Year s. Shall I take a cheer ? >l Well, blame-don ! ef I ever see Sich impidence ! I couldn t say Not nary word ! But Mother she Sot out a cheer fer Tomps, an they Shuk hands an turnt their back on me. Then I riz mad as mad could be ! 102 THE HOOSIER BOOK But Marg et says, "Now, Pap ! you set Right where you re settin ! Don t you fret ! An , Tomps you warm yer feet!" says she, "An throw yer mitts an comfert on The bed there ! Where is S repty gone? The cabbage is a-scortchin ! Ma, Stop cryin there an stir the slaw !" Well! what was Mother cryin fer? I half riz up but Marg et s chin Hit squared an I set down ag in I allus was afeard o her, I was, by jucks ! So there I set, Betwixt a sinkin -chill an sweat, An scuffled with my wrath an shet My teeth to mighty tight, you bet ! An yit, fer all that I could do, I eeched to jes git up an whet The carvin -knife a rasp er two On Tomps s ribs an so would you ! Fer he had riz an faced around, An stood there, smilin , as they brung The turkey in, all stuffed an browned Too sweet fer nose er tooth er tongue ! With sniffs o sage, an p r aps a dash Of old burnt brandy, steamin -hot, Mixed kind o in with apple-mash An mince-meat, an the Lord knows v^at j Nobody was a-talkin then, To filiate any awk ardness No noise o any kind but jes The rattle o the dishes when They d fetch em in an set em down 103 THE HOOSIER BOOK An fix an* change em round an round, Like women does till Mother says, "Vittels is ready ; Abner, call Down S repty she s up-stairs, I guess." And Marg et she says, "Ef you bawl Like that, she ll not come down at all ! Besides, we needn t wait till she Gits down ! Here, Tomps, set down by me, An Pap : say grace !" . . . Well, there I was !- What could I do ! I drapped my head Behind my fists an groaned, an said : "Indulgent Parent ! in Thy cause We bow the head an* bend the knee, An* break the bread, an* pour the wine, Feelin " (The stair-door suddently Went bang! an S repty flounced by me) "Feelin ," I says, "this feast is Thine This New Year s feast" an rap-rap-rap! Went Marg et s case-knife on her plate An* next, I heerd a sasser drap, Then I looked up, an , strange to state, There S repty set in Tomps s lap An huggin him, as shore as fate ! An Mother kissin him k-slap ! An Marg et she chips in to drap The ruther peert remark to me : "That grace o yourn," she says, "won t gee This hain t no New Year s feast, " says she, "This is a INFAIR-Dinner, Pap!" A.n so it was ! be n married f er ]*urt nigh a week ! Twas Marg et planned 104 THE HOOSIER BOOK The whole thing fer em, through an through. I m rickonciled ; an , understand, I take things jes as they occur, Ef Marg et liked Tomps, Tomps ud do ! But I-says-I, a-holt his hand, "I m glad you didn t marry HER Cause Marg et s my guardeen yes-sir! An S repty s good enough fer you !" Regardin Terry Hut SENCE I tuk holt o Gibbses Churn And be n a-handlin the concern, I ve traveled round the grand old State Of Indiany, lots, o late! I ve canvassed Crawferdsville and sweat Around the town o Layf ayette ; I ve saw a many a County-seat I ust to think was hard to beat : At constant dreenage and expense I ve worked Greencastle and Vincennei Drapped out o Putnam into Clay, Owen, and on down thataway Plum into Knox, on the back-track Fer home ag in and glad I m back ! I ve saw these towns, as I say but They s none at beats old Terry Hut ! It s more n likely you ll insist I claim this cause I m predjudist, 105 THE HOOSIER BOOK Bein born d here in ole Vygo In sight o Terry Hut ; but no, Yer clean dead wrong ! and I maintain They s nary drap in ary vein O mine but what s as free as air To jes take issue with you there! Cause, boy and man, fer forty year, I ve argied ag inst livin here, And jawed around and traded lies About our lack o enterprise, And tuk and turned in and agreed All other towns was in the lead, When drat my melts ! they couldn t cut No shine a-tall with Terry Hut ! Take, even, statesmanship, and wit, And ginerel git-up-and-git, Old Terry Hut is sound clean through ! Turn old Dick Thompson loose, er Dan For^hees and where* s they any man Kin even hold a candle to Their eloquence ? And where s as clean A fi-nan-seer as Rile* McKeen Er puorer, in his daily walk, In railroad er in racin stock ! And there s Gene Debs a man at stands And jes holds out in his two hands As warm a heart as ever beat Betwixt here and the Jedgment Seat ! All these is reasons why I putt Sich bulk o faith in Terry Hut. 106 THE HOOSIER BOOK So I ve come back, with eyes at sees My faults, at last, to make my peace With this old place, and truthful swear Like Gineral Tom Nelson does, "They hain t no city anywhere On God s green earth lays over us !" Our city government is grand "Ner is they better farmin -land Sun-kissed" as Tom goes on and says "Er dower d with sich advantages I" And I ve come back, with welcome tread, From journeyin s vain, as I have said, To settle down in ca m content, And cuss the towns where I have went, And brag on ourn, and boast and strut Around the streets o Terry Hut! 4 Down on Wriggle Crick Best time to kill a hog s when he s fat." OLD SAW. MOSTLY, folks is law-abidin Down on Wriggle Crick, Seein they s no Squire residin* In our bailywick ; No grand juries, no suppeem es, Ner no vested rights to pick Out yer man, jerk up and jail ef He s outragin Wriggle Crick! 107 THE HOOSIER BOOK Wriggle Crick hain t got no lawin , Ner no suits to beat ; Ner no court-house gee-and-hawin Like a County-seat; Hain t no waitin round f er verdicks, Ner non-gittin witness-fees ; Ner no thiefs at gits "new hearin s," By some lawyer slick as grease ! Wriggle Crick s leadin spirit Is old Johnts Culwell, Keeps post-office, and right near it Owns what s called "The Grand Hotel" (Warehouse now) buys wheat and ships it: Gits out ties, and trades in stock, And knows all the high-toned drummers Twixt South Bend and Mishawauk. Last year comes along a feller Sharper an a lance Stovepipe-hat and silk umbreller, And a boughten all-wool pants, Tinkerin of clocks and watches ; Says a trial s all he wants And rents out the tavern-office Next to Uncle Johnts. Well. He tacked up his k dentials, And got down to biz. Captured Johnts by cuttin stenchils Fer them old wheat-sacks o his.-* 108 THE HOOSIER BOOK Fixed his clock, in the post-office Painted fer him, clean and slick, Crost his safe, in gold-leaf letters, "J. Culwell s, Wriggle Crick." Any kind o job you keered to Resk him with, and bring, He d fix fer you jes appeared to Turn his hand to anything ! Rings, er earbobs, er umbrellers Glue a cheer er chany doll, W y, of all the beatin fellers, He jes beat em all! Made his friends, but wouldn t stop there, e. One mistake he learnt, That was, sleepin in his shop there. And one Sund y night it burnt ! Come in one o jes a-sweepin All the whole town high and dry And that feller, when they waked him, Suffocatin , mighty nigh ! Johnts he drug him from the buildin , He pless peared to be, And the women and the childern Drenchin him with sympathy! But I noticed Johnts helt on him With a extry lovin grip, And the men-folks gathered round him In most warmest pardnership ! i^l i!r:iM.rrj ^hiw : .zi ilorffi^T nv/uT slMil^rf 109 THE HOOSIER BOOK That s the whole mess, grease-and-dopin ! Johnts s safe was saved But the lock was found sprung open, And the inside caved. Was no trial ner no jury Ner no jedge ner court-house-click. Circumstances alters cases Down on Wriggle Crick ! 55 The Little Town o Tailholt YOU kin boast about yer cities, and their stiddy growth and size, And brag about yer County-seats, and business enterprise, And railroads, and factories, and all sich foolery But the little Town o Tailholt is big enough f er me ! You kin harp about yer churches, with their steeples in the clouds, And gas about yer graded streets, and blow about yer crowds ; You kin talk about yer "Waters," and all you ve got to see But the little Town o Tailholt is show enough f er me ! They hain t no style in our town hit s little-like and small They hain t no "churches," nuther, jes the meetin -house is all ; They s no sidewalks, to speak of but the highway s allus free, And the" little Town o Tailholt is wide enough fer me! no THE HOOSIER BOOK Some find it discommodin -like, I m willing to admit, To hev but one post-office, and a womern keepin hit, And the drug-store, and shoe-shop, and grocery, all three But the little Town o Tailholt is handy nough fer me ! You kin smile and turn yer nose up, and joke and hev yer fun, And laugh and holler "Tail-holts is better holts n none !" Ef the city suits you better, w y, hit s where you d ort o be- But the little Town o Tailholt s good enough fer me ! 56 Little Orphant Annie E TTLE Orphant Annie s come to our house to stay, An wash the cups an saucers up, an brush the crumbs away, An shoo the chickens off the porch, an dust the hearth, an sweep, An* make the fire, an bake the bread, an earn her board- an -keep ; An all us other childern, when the supper things is done, We set around the kitchen fire an has the mostest fun A-list nin to the witch-tales at Annie tells about, An the Gobble-uns at gits you Ef you Don t Watch Out! Ill THE HOOSIER BOOK Wunst they wuz a little boy wouldn t say his prayers, An when he went to bed at night, away up-stairs, His Mammy heerd him holler, an his Daddy heerd him bawl, An* when they turn t the kivvers down, he wuzn t there at all! An* they seeked him in the rafter-room, an cubby-hole, an press, An seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an ever wheres, I guess ; But all they ever found wuz thist his pants an* round about : An the Gobble-uns 11 git you Ef you Don t Watch. Out! <\n one time a little girl ud allus laugh and grin, An make fun of ever one, an all her blood-an -kin ; An wunst, when they was "company," an ole folks wuz there, She mocked em an shocked em, an* said she didn t care ! An thist as she kicked her heels, an turn t to run an hide, They wuz two great big Black Things a-standin by her side, An they snatched her through the ceilin fore she knowed what she s about! An the Gobble-uns 11 git you Ef you Don t Watch Out! 112 THE HOOSIER BOOK An little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue, An the lamp-wick sputters, an the wind goes woo-oo! An you hear the crickets quit, an the moon is gray, An the lightnin -bugs in dew is all squenched away, You better mind yer parunts, an yer teachurs fond an dear, An churish them at loves you, an dry the orphant s tear, An he p the pore an needy ones at clusters all about, Er the Gobble-uns 11 git you Ef you Don t Watch Out! PIPES O PAN AT ZEKESBURY 57 Down Around the River NOON-TIME and June-time, down around the river ! Have to f urse with Lizey Ann but lawzy ! I f ergive her! Drives me off the place, and says at all at she s a-wishin , Land o gracious ! time ll come I ll git enough o fishin ! Little Dave, a-choppin wood, never pears to notice ; Don t know where she s hid his hat, er keerin where his coat is, Specalatin , more n like, he hain t a-goin to mind me, And guessin v/here, say twelve o clock, a feller d likely find me. Noon-time and June-time, down around the river ! Clean out o sight o home, and skulkin under kivver Of the sycamores, jack-oaks, and swamp-ash and ellum Idies all so jumbled up you kin hardly tell em! Tired, you know, but lovin it, and smilin jes to think at Any sweeter tiredness you d fairly want to drink it. Tired o fishin tired o fun line out slack and slacker All you want in all the world s a little more tobacker ! Hungry, but a-hidin it, er jes a-not a-keerin : Kingfisher gittin* up and skootin out o hearin ; Snipes on the t other side, where the County Ditch is, Wadin up and down the aidge like they d rolled their britches ! 114 THE HOOSIER BOOK Old turkle on the root kind o sort o drappin Tntoo th worter like he don t know how it happen ! Worter, shade and all so mixed, don t know which you d orter Say, th worter in the shadder shaddcr in the worter. Somebody hollerin way around the bend in Upper Fork where yer eye kin jes ketch the endin Of the shiney wedge o wake some muss-rat s a-makin With that pesky nose o his ! Then a sniff o bacon, Corn-bread and dock-greens and little Dave a-shinnin Crost the rocks and mussel-shells, a-limpin and a-grinnin , With yer dinner fer ye, and a blessin from the giver. Noon-time and June-time down around the river ! 5<? Romancin* IB EN a-kindo "musin " as the feller says, and I m About o the conclusion that they hain t no better time, When you come to cipher on it, than the times we used to know When we swore our first "dog-gone-it" sorto solem -like and low ! You git my idy, do you ? Little tads, you understand Jest a-wishin time and thue you that you on y wuz a man. Yit here I am, this minute, even sixty, to a day, And fergittin all that s in it, wishin jes the other way! US THE HOOSIER BOOK I hain t no hand to lectur on the times, er demonstrate Whare the trouble is, er hector and domineer with Fate, But when I git so flurried, and so pestered-like and blue, And so rail owdacious worried, let me tell you what I do ! I jest gee-haw the hosses, and unhook the swingle-tree, Whare the hazel-bushes tosses down theyr shadders over me, And I draw my plug o navy, and climb the fence, and set Jest a-thinkin* here, i gravy ; tel my eyes is wringin wet ! Tho I still kin see the trouble o the presunt, I kin see Kindo like my sight wuz double all the things that ust to be; And the flutter o the robin, and the teeter o the wren Sets the wilier-branches bobbin "howdy-do" thum Now to Then! The deadnin and the thicket s jest a-bilin full of June, Thum the rattle o the cricket, to the yallar-hammer s tune ; And the catbird in the bottom, and the sap-suck on the snag, Seems ef they can t od-rot em! jest do nothin* else but brag! They s music in the twitter of the bluebird and the jay, And that sassy little critter jest a-peckin all the day; They s music in the "flicker," and they s music in the thrush, And they s music in the snicker o the chipmunk in the brush ! They s music all around me! And I go back, in a dream Sweeter yit than ever found me fast asleep, and in the stream 116 THE HOOSIER BOOK That ust to split the medder whare the dandylions growed I stand knee-deep, and redder than the sunset down the road. Then s when I b en a-fishin ! and they s other fellers, too, With theyr hickry poles a-swishin out behind em ; and a few Little "shiners" on our stringers, with theyr tails tiptoein* bloom, As we dance em in our fingers all the happy jurney home. T kin see us, true to Natur , thum the time we started out With a biscuit and a tater in our little "roundabout" ! I kin see our lines a-tanglin , and our elbows in a jam, And our naked legs a-danglin thum the apern o the dam. I kin see the honeysuckle climbin up around the mill ; And kin hear the worter chuckle, and the wheel a-growlin still; And thum the bank below it I kin steal the old canoe, And jest git in and row it like the miller ust to do. W y, I git my fancy focused on the past so mortal plain I kin even smell the locus -blossoms bloomin in the lane ; And I hear the cow-bells clinkin sweeter tunes n "Money- musk" Fer the lightnin -bugs a-blinkin and a-dancin in the dusk. And when I ve kep* on "musin ," as the feller says, tel I m Firm-fixed in the conclusion that they hain t no better time, When you come to cipher on it, than the old times, I de-clare, I kin wake and say "dog- gone-it 3" jest as soft as anj 117 THE HOOSIER BOOK Soniep n Common-Like O OMEP N at s common-like, and good ^-J And plain, and easy understood ; Somep n at folks like me and you Kin understand, and relish, too, And find some sermint in at hits The spot, and sticks and benefits. We don t need nothin* extry fine; Cause, take the run o minds like mine, r And we ll go more on good horse-sense Than all your flowery eloquence ; And we ll jedge best of honest acts By Nature s statement of the facts- So when you re wantin to express Your misery, er happiness, Er anything at s wuth the time O telling in plain talk er rhyme Jes sort o let your subject run As ef the Lord wuz listenun. 60 The Little Tiny Kickshaiv " And any little tiny kickshazu." SHAKESPEARE. E little tiny kickshaw that Mither sent tae me, JL Tis sweeter than the sugar-plum that reepeiis on the tree, Wi denty flavorin s o spice an musky rosemarie, The little tiny kickshaw that Mither sent tae me. 118 THE HOOSIER BOOK Tis luscious wi the stalen tang o fruits frae ower the sea, An e en its fragrance gars we laugh wi langin lip an ee, Till a its frazen scheen o* white maun melten hinnie be Sae weel I luve the kickshaw that Mither sent tae me. I luve the tiny kickshaw, an* I smack my lips wi glee Aye mickle do I luve the taste o sic a luxourie, But maist I luve the luvein han s that could the giftie gie the little tiny kickshaw that Mither sent tae me. 61 The Stepmother ,rrm[ j iiJ I mirl T>} nj(j< r tScii JB<J niirl y.&o~J FIRST she come to our house, Tommy run and hid ; And Emily and Bob and me We cried jus like we did When Mother died, and we all said At we all wisht at we was dead ! ! ->A T>rUom itmw od oi J/I.K // zi lymocri lunw so oJ 1rt Vv And Nurse she couldn t stop us, And Pa he tried and tried, We sobbed and shook and wouldn t look, But only cried and cried ; And nen some one we couldn t jus* Tell who was cryin same as us ! "!<dt laihom imIv/.3cToMij7/ !i I jfaomijvllwsd.Ql insW" Our Stepmother ! Yes, it was her, Her arms around us all Cause Tom slid down the bannister And peeked in from the hall. And we all love her, too, because She s purt nigh good as Mother was I 119 THE HOOSIER BOOK i\ ?Jiuil o gfusJ nslsla orf) iw euobeul efT /<? <? JFViwr Mother Is ^1 sinntrf n;>Jbm nujsnt oJirrw o nrcrbs rtdsjnl e)i .s HIT WANT to be whur mother is! Want to be whur mother is 1" Jeemses Rivers ! won t some one ever shet that howl o* his ? That-air yellin drives me wild ! Cain t none of ye stop the child? Want yer Daddy? "Naw." Gee whizz I "Want to be whur mother is !" "Want to be whur mother is ! Want to be whur mother is?" Coax him, Sairy! Mary, sing somepin fer him! Lift him, Liz- Bang the clock-bell with the key Er the mcat-axl Gee-mun-nee! Listen to them lungs o his ! "Want to be whur mother is !" "Want to be whur mother is ! Want to be whur mother is !" Jr readier guess ii pound all night on that old pulpit o his ; Pears to me some wimmin jest Shows religious interest Mostly fore their f ambly s riz ! "Want to be whur mother is !" "Want to be whur mother is ! Want to be whur mother is !" Nights like these and whipper wills allus brings that voice of his 1 Sairy; Mary; Lizabeth; Don t set there and ketch yer death In the dew er rheumatiz Want to be whur mother is? 120 THE HOOSIER BOOK fiwob i^rfa ^rfj bii ,qu bswoig sw na/IW <5j Marthy Ellen rpHEY S nothin in the name to strike JL A feller more n common like ! Taint liable to git no praise Ner nothin like it nowadays ; An* yit that name o her n is jest As purty as the purtiest And more n that, I m here to say I ll live a-thinkin thataway And die f er Marthy Ellen ! It may be I was prejudust In favor of it from the fust Cause I kin ricollect jest how We met, and hear her mother now A-callin of her down the road And, aggervatin little toad! I see her now, jest sort o half- Way disapp inted, turn and laugh And mock her "Marthy Ellen ! Our people never had no fuss, And yit they never tuck to us ; We neighbered back and foreds some ; Until they see she liked to come To our house and me and her Was jest together ever whur And all the time and when they d see That I liked her and she liked me, They d holler "Marthy Ellen !" 121 THE HOOSIER BOOK When we growed up, and they shet down On me and her a-runnin roun Together, and her father said He d never leave her nary red, So he p him, ef she married me, And so on and her mother she Jest agged the gyrl, and said she lowed She d ruther see her in her shroud, I writ to Marthy Ellen That is, I kind o tuck my pen In hand, and stated whur and when The undersigned would be that night, With two good hosses, saddled right Fer lively travelin , in case Her folks ud like to jine the race. She sent the same note back, and writ "The rose is red !" right under it "Your n allus, Marthy Ellen." That s all, I reckon Nothin more To tell but what you ve heerd afore The same old story, sweeter though Fer all the trouble, don t you know. Old-fashioned name! and yit it s jest As purty as the purtiest; And more n that, I m here to say I ll live a-thinkin* that away, And die fer Marthy Ellen! r nsifw britr aniil $iti Iffi bnA 122 THE HOOSIER BOOK rtlfl bvfilld^O *vi I JJJ.H Claus Wuz JES a little bit o* feller I remember still, Ust to almost cry fer Christmas, like a youngster will. Fourth o July s nothin to it ! New-Year s ain t a smell : Easter-Sunday Circus-Day jes all dead in the shell! Lordy, though ! at night, you know, to set around and hear The old folks work the story off about the sledge and deer, And "Santy" skootin* round the roof, all wrapped in fur and fuzz Long afore I knowed who "Santy-Claus" wuzl llsw Ust to wait, and set up late, a week or two ahead : Couldn t hardly keep awake, ner wouldn t go to bed : Kittle stewin on the fire, and Mother settin here Darnin socks, and rockin in the skreeky rockin -cheer ; Pap gap , and wunder where it wuz the money weni, And quar l with his frosted heels, and spill his liniment : And me a-dreamin* sleigh-bells when the clock ud whir and buzz, Long afore I knowed who "Santy-Claus" wuz! Size the fireplace up, and figger how "Old Santy" could Manage to come down the chimbly, like they said he would : Wisht that I could hide and see him wundered what he d say Ef he ketched a feller layin fer him thataway ! THE HOOSIER BOOK But I bet on him, and liked him, same as ef he had Turned to pat me on the back and say, "Look here, my lad, Here s my pack, jes he p yourse f, like all good boys does !" ,IIi}?,,i^kn5ms>i I i9ij3i o JiJ swti 2H Long afore I knowed who "Santy-Claus" wuz ! Wisht that yarn was true about him, as it peared to be Truth made out o lies like that-un s good enough f er me ! Wisht I still wuz so confidin* I could jes go wild Over hangin up my stockin s, like the little child Climbin in my lap to-night, and beggin me to tell Bout them reindeers, and "Old Santy" that she loves so well I m half sorry fer this little-girl-sweetheart , of his Long afore She knows who "Santy-Claus" is ! bit ifji>I:> t>if) ii-jffv/ L-n^d-rfgbfa Maw Jones THIS man Jones was what you d call A feller at had no sand at all; Kind o consumpted, and undersize, And sailor-complected, with big sad eyes, And a kind-of-a sort-of-a hang-dog style, And a sneakin sort-of-a half-way smile At kind o give him away to us As a preacher, maybe, er somepin* wuss. 124 THE HOOSIER BOOK Didn t take with the gang well, no But still we managed to use him, though,* Coddin the gilly along the rout , And drivin the stakes at he pulled out Per I was one of the bosses then, And of course stood in with the canvasmen ; And the way we put up jobs, you know, On this man Jones jes beat the show 1 1^ : - Ust to rattle him scandalous, And keep the feller a-dodgin us, And a-shyin round half skeered to death, And afeerd to whimper above his breath; Give him a cussin , and then a kick, And then a kind-of-a back-hand lick Jes fer the fun of seein him climb Around with a head on most the time. But what was the curioust thing to me, Was along o the party let me see, Who was our "Lion Queen" last year ? Mamzelle Zanty, or De La Pierre ? Well, no matter a stunnin mash, With a red-ripe lip, and a long eyelash, And a figger sich as the angels owns And one too many fer this man Jones. !; \*H no bsfana bns byAw sri* *rv; fanA He d allus wake in the afternoon, As the band waltzed in on the lion-tune, And there, from the time at she d go in Till she d back out of the cage ajj in, 125 THE HOOSIER BOOK He d stand, shaky and limber-kneed Specially when she come to "feed The beasts raw meat with her naked hand"- And all that business, you understand. jisrfJ 298eotf 3flJ }<> - c jrro 8W I taft And it was resky in that den Fer I think she juggled three cubs then, And a big "green" lion at used to smash Collar-bones fer old Frank Nash; And I reckon now she hain t fergot The afternoon old "Nero" sot His paws on her! but as fer me, It s a sort-of-a mixed-up mystery: ,>bi.}| fi imll bos /nlgguo & cnirf e> /iO Kind o remember an awful roar, And see her back fer the bolted door- See the cage rock heerd her call "God have mercy !" and that was all Fer they ain t no livin man can tell What it s like when a thousand yell In female tones, and a thousand more Howl in bass till their throats is sore ! But the keeper said at dragged her out, They heerd some feller laugh and shout "Save her ! Quick ! I ve got the cuss !" And yit she waked and smiled on us! And we daren t flinch, fer the doctor said, Seein as this man Jones was dead, Better to jes not let her know Nothin o that fer a week er so. 126 tHE HOOSIER BOOK 66 When the Green Gits Back in the Trees IN spring, when the green gits back in the trees, And the sun comes out and stays, And yer boots pulls on with a good tight squeeze, And you think of yer barefoot days ; When you ort to work and you want to not, And you and yer wife agrees It s time to spade up the garden-lot, When the green gits back in the trees Well! work is the least o my idees When the green, you know, gits back in the trees ! When the green gits back in the trees, and bees T t . , , ,. Is a-buzzin aroun ag in, In that kind of a lazy go-as-you-please Old gait they bum roun in ; When the groun s all bald where the hay-rick stood, And the crick s riz, and the breeze Coaxes the bloom in the old dogwood, And the green gits back in the trees, I like, as I say, in sich scenes as these, The time when the green gits back in the trees I ; vButi airf las ted t *oa on i nis j>rf H 3 oor!i-2i9li2 Jii?. When the whole tail-feathers o Winter-time Is all pulled out and gone ! And the sap it thaws and begins to climb, And the swet it starts out on . .t>T5i{) inlly} srb ffoJs^I o) 13} ni&ri9D drmto ^Iiurioijsn b uoY 127 THE HOOSIER BOOK A feller s forred, a-gittin down At the old spring on his knees 1 kindo like jest a-loaferin roun When the green gits back in the trees Jest a-potterin roun as I durn please When the green, you know, gits back in the trees ! of i^o JJOY rwi a: rj}iw iT{- IHIS ncr/ bnA 67 Doc Sifers OF all the doctors I could cite you to in this- ere town Doc Sifers is my favorite, jes take him up and down! Count in the Bethel Neighberhood, and Rollins, and Big Bear, And Sifers standin s jes as good as ary doctor s there! There s old Doc Wick, and Glenn, and Hall, and Wurgler, and McVeigh, But I ll buck Sifers g inst em all and down em any day ! Most old Wick ever knowed, I s pose, was whisky! Wurg ler well, He et morphine ef actions shows, and facts reliable ! ! 8397$ ail* ni >Lwf lis naarg ^tlt rpdw pmb $riT But Sifers though he ain t no sot, he s got his faults; and yit When you git Sifers onc t, you ve got a doctor, don t f ergit ! He ain t much at his office, er his house, er anywhere You d natchurly think certain f er to ketch the feller there. 128 THE HOOSIER BOOK But don t blame Doc: he s got all sorts o cur ous no tions as The feller says, his odd-come-shorts, like smart men mostly has. He ll more n like be potter n round the Blacksmith Shop ; er in Some back lot, spadin up the ground, er gradin it ag in. Er at the work bench, planin things ; er buildin* little traps To ketch birds; galvenizin rings; er graftin plums, per haps. Make anything ! good as the best ! a gun-stock er a flute ; He whittled out a set o chesstmen onc t o laurel root, Dunn* the Army got his trade o surgeon there I own To-day a finger-ring Doc made out of a Sesesh bone! An glued a fiddle onc t fer me jes all so busted you D a throwed the thing away, but he fixed her as good as new ! ohwitffmwh :. And take Doc, now, in ager, say, er biles, er rheumatis, And all afflictions thataway, and he s the best they is ! Er janders milksick I don t keer k-yore anything he tries A abscess ; getherin in yer yeer ; cr granilated eyes ! There was the Widder Daubenspeck they all give up fer dead ; A blame cowbuncle on her neck, and clean out of her head! 129 THE HOOSIER BOOK First had this doctor, what s-his-name, from "Puddles- burg," and then This little red-head, "Burnin Shame" they call him Dr. Glenn. And they "consulted" on the case, and claimed she d haf to die, I jes was joggin by the place, and heerd her dorter cry, And stops and calls her to the fence ; and I-says-I, "Let me Send Sifers bet you fifteen cents he ll k-yore licr !" "Well," says she, "Light out !" she says : And, lipp-tee-cut I loped in town, and rid Bout two hours more to find him, but I kussed him when I did! He was down at the Gunsmith Shop a-stuffin birds I Says he, "My sulky s broke." Says I, "You hop right on and ride with me !" I got him there. "Well, Aunty, ten days k-yores you," Sifers said, "But what s yer idy livin* when yer jes as good as dead?" And there s Dave Banks jes back from war without a scratch one day Got ketched up in a sickle-bar, a reaper runaway. His shoulders, arms, and hands and legs jes sawed in strips ! And Jake Dunn starts fer Sifers feller begs to shoot him fer God- sake. 130 THE HOOSIER BOOK Doc, course, was gone, but he had penned the notice, "At Big Bear Be back to-morry; Gone to tend the Bee Convention there." But Jake, he tracked him rid and rode the whole en- durin* night ! And bout the time the roosters crowed they both hove into sight. Doc had to ampitate, but greed to save Dave s arms, and swore He could V saved his legs ef he d b en there the day before. Like when his wife s own mother died fore Sifers could be found, And all the neighbers fer and wide a* all jes chasin round ; Tel finally I had to laugh it s jes like Doc, you know, Was learnin fer to telegraph, down at the old deepo. But all they re faultin Sifers fer, there s none of em kin say He s biggoty, er keerless, er not posted anyway ; He ain t built on the common plan of doctors now-a-days, He s jes a great, big, brainy man that s where the trouble lays! 68 Whatever the Weather May Be WHATEVER the weather may be," says he "Whatever the weather may be, It s plaze, if ye will, an I ll say me say, Supposin to-day was the winterest day, THE HOOSIER BOOK Wud the weather be changing because ye cried, Or the snow be grass were ye crucified ? The best is to make yer own summer," says he, "Whatever the weather may be," says he "Whatever the weather may be ! "Whatever the weather may be," says he "Whatever the weather may be, It s the songs ye sing, an the smiles ye wear, That s a-makin the sun shine everywhere; An the world of gloom is a world of glee, Wid the bird in the bush, an the bud in the tree, An* the fruit on the stim o the bough," says he, "Whatever the weather may be," says he "Whatever the weather may be ! ,:>oCl 5>irf - s3{, g*ti rf;p.t?j?f o? hr.ri 1 "Whatever the weather may be," says he "Whatever the weather may be, Ye can bring the Spring, wid its green an* gold, An* the grass in the grove where the snow lies cold ; An* ye ll warm yer back, wid a smiling face, As ye sit at yer heart, like an owld fireplace, An* toast the toes o yer sowl," says he, "Whatever the weather may be," says "Whatever the weather may be !" i v/ 3f!i anw vsb-o* V 132 THE HOOSIER BOOK _. Trr , TJ . - b l 60 The Way It Wuz y j iuods ?.^{. sir// bnA LYS July-and, I persume Bout as hot As the ole Gran -jury room M b Whare they sot !- Fight twixt Mike an Doc McGreff . . j^ n Pears to me jes like as ef I d a-dremp the whole blame thing Allus ha nts me roun the gizzard When they s nightmares on the wing, And a feller s blood s jes friz! Seed the row from A to Izzard Cause I wuz a-standin as clos t to em As me and you is! Tell you the way it wuz- And I don t u>ant to see, T M r 11 j Like some fellers does, When they s goern to be Any kind o fuss On y makes a rumpus wuss Per to interfere When theyr dander s riz- Might as lif to cheer! But I wuz a-standin as clos t to em As me and you is! xii >boG .irio b<)lbbr>iq?. HJG ,(bl bnA I wuz kind o strayin Past the b iame saloon Heerd some fiddler playin That ole "hce-cup tune !" 133 THE HOOSIER BOOK I d stopped-\ike, you know, Fer a minit er so, And wuz jes about Settin down, when Jeemses whizz! Whole durn winder-sash fell out! And there laid Doc McGreff, and Mike A-straddlin him, all bloody-like, And both a-gittin down to biz ! And I wuz a-standin as clos t to em As me and you is ! I wuz the on y man aroun* (Durn old-fogey town ! Feared more like, to me, o j> .1.1 o j. j> . \ Sundy than Saturay!) Dog come crost the road And tuk a smell And putt right back ; Mishler driv by ith a load O cantalo pes he couldn t sell Too mad, i jack ! To even ast What wuz up, as he went past ! Weather most outrageous hot ! Fairly hear it sizz Roun Dock and Mike till Dock he shot And Mike he slacked that grip o his And fell, all spraddled out. Dock riz Bout half up, a-spittin red, And shuck his head And I wuz a-standin as clos t to em As me and you is ! 134 THE HOOSIER BOOK And Dock he says, A-whisperin -like, "It hain t no use A-tryin ! Mike He s jes ripped my daylig its loose! Git that blame-don fiddler to Let up, and come out here You Got some burryin to do, Mike makes one, and, I expects, Bout ten seconds I ll make two!" And he drapped back, whare he riz, Crost Mike s body, black and blue, Like a great big letter X! And I wuz a-standin as clos t to em As me and you is ! bingfz fri A moT te bi>v/ond aw Tom Johnson s Quit ,xn o bnivl e>v/ ai-jfll briB n^rlJ l nA A PASSEL o the boys last night- An me amongst em kind o got To talkin Temper nce left an right, An workin up "blue-ribbon," hot; An while we was a-countin jes How many lied gone into hit An signed the pledge, some feller says,^ w "Tom Johnson s quit !" We laughed, of course cause Tom, you know, Has spiled more whisky, boy an man, And seed more trouble, high an* low, Than any chap but Tom could stand : 135 THE HOOSIER BOOK And so, says J, "He s too nigh dead Per Temper nce to benefit!" The feller sighed ag in, and said "Tom Johnson s quit !" vrn We all liked Tom, an that was why We sort o simmered down ag in, And ast the feller ser ously Ef he wa n t tryin to draw us in : He shuck his head tuck off his hat Helt up his hand an opened hit, An says, says he, "I ll swear to that Tom Johnson s quit !" Well, we was stumpt, an* tickled too, Because we knowed ef Tom hed signed There wa n t no man at wore the "blue" At was more honester inclined: An then and there we kind o* riz, The hull dern gang of us at bit An th owed our hats and let er whizz, "Tom Johnson s quit!" I ve heerd em holler when the balls Was buzzin round us wus n bees, An when the ole flag on the walls Was flappin o er the enemy s, I ve heerd a-many a wild "hooray" At made my heart git up an git But Lord ! to hear em shout that way ! "Tom Johnson s quit!" s !)tt}3 bfuoD rnoT Jud qxih vnc neilT 136 THE HOOSIER BOOK But when we saw the chap at fetched The news wa n t jinin in the cheer, But stood there solemn-like, an reched An kind o wiped away a tear, We someway sort o stilled ag in, And listened-I kin hear him yit, His voice a-wcbblin with his chin, "Tom Johnson s quit- jjvod "I hain t a-givin you no game I wisht I was ! ... An hour ago, This operator what s his name The one at works at night, you know ? Went out to flag that Ten Express, And sees a man in front of hit Th ow up his hands an stagger yes, Tom Johnson s quit." * ?\ gvbfic bnK m zrnuJ /turn i)li ,-. , oos 77 The Old Home by the Mill THIS is "The old Home by the Mill" fer we still call it so, Although the old mill, roof and sill, is all gone long ago. The old home, though, and old folks and the old spring, and a few Old cattails, weeds and hartychokes, is left to welcome Here, Marg et, fetch the man a tin to drink out of! Our spring Keeps kindo -sorto cavin in, but don t "taste" anything 1 137 THE HOOSIER BOOK She s kindo agin , Marg et is "the old process," like me, All ham-stringed up with rhumatiz, and on in seventy- three. , Jes me and Marg et lives alone here like in long ago; The childern all putt off and gone, and married, don t you know? One s millin way out West somewhare; two other miller- boys In Mim^opolis they air; and one s in Illinoise. The oldest gyrl the first that went married and died right here ; The next lives in Winn s Settlement for purt nigh thirty year ! And youngest one was allus fer the old home here but no! Her man turns in and packs her way off to Idyho ! I don t miss them like Marg et does cause I got her, you see; And when she pines for them that s cause she s only jes got me! I laugh, and joke her bout it all. But talkin* sense, I ll say, When she was tuk so bad last Fall, I laughed then t other way! v/?l K hns I hain t so favor ble impressed bout dyin ; but ef I Found I was only second-best when us two come to die, I d dopt the "new process," in full, ef Marg et died, you see, I d jes crawl in my grave and pull the green grass over me! 138 H ;IHT ; R BOOK bio DflJ aimniO ,^K?J b l POEMS OF CHILDHOOD s l :jiy ? t qt* bDv/oTg tn yov rrsr! // Mo :nft .rfofreq-ngMjsrcg bio t>iIT Uncle Sidney .iUoTSMiiamofcj bio 3ffT Q OMETIMES, when I bin bad, ks3 An Pa "currecks" me nen, An Uncle Sidney he comes here, I m allus good again; Cause Uncle Sidney says, An takes me up an* smiles, The goodest mcns they is ain t good As baddcst little childs! Waitin Per the Cat to Die LWZY! don t I rickollect That-air old swing in the lane ! Right and proper, I expect, Old times can t come back again ; But I want to state, ef they Could come back, and I could say What my pick ud be, i jing! I d say, Gimme the old swing Nunder the old locus -trees On the old place, ef you please! Danglin there with half-shet eye, Waitin f er the cat to die ! 139 THE HOOSIER BOOK I d say, Gimme the old gang O barefooted, hungry, lean, Ornry boys you want to hang When you re growed up twic t as mean! The old gyarden-patch, the old Truants, and the stuff we stol d ! The old stompin -groun , where we Wore the grass off, wild and free As the swoop o the old swing, Where we ust to climb and cling, And twist roun , and fight, and lie Waitin f er the cat to die ! Pears like I most alms could Swing the highest of the crowd Jes sail up there tel I stood Downside-up, and screech out loud, Ketch my breath, and jes drap back Per to let the old swing slack, Yit my towhead dippin still In the green boughs, and the chill Up my backbone taperin down, With my shadder on the groun Slow and slower trailin by Waitin f er the cat to die ! Now my daughter s little Jane s Got a kind o baby-swing On the porch, so s when it rains She kin play there little thing ! And I d limped out t other day With my old cheer thisaway, 140 THE -ROOSTER BOOK Swingin her and rockin too, Thinkin how / ust to do At her age, when suddently, "Hey, Gran pap !" she says to me, "Why you rock so slow?" . . . Says I, "Waitin f er the cat to die !" *nA 74 TVz? Happy Little Cripple -6) Ilfi ."-/ ?"?-r;;I) jjs* m;l/f ttfttiLI srfT jrterB-trt iriJsW orfW" I M thist a little crippled boy, an never goin to grow An git a great big man at all ! cause Aunty told me so. When I was thist a baby onc t I failed out of the bed An got "The Curv ture of the Spine" at s what the Doc tor said. I never had no Mother nen fer my Pa runned away An dassn t come back here no more cause he was drunk one day An stobbed a man in thish-ere town, an couldn t pay his fine! An nen my Ma she died an I got "Curv ture of the Spine" ! I m nine years old ! An you can t guess how much I weigh, I bet! Last birthday I weighed thirty-three! An* I weigh thirty flit i yet! I Imrw <tdl mln I m awful little fer my size I m purt nigh littler nan Some babies is ! an neighbers all calls me "The Little Man" ! 141 TOE HOOSIER BOOK An Doc one time he laughed an said : "I spect, first thing you know, You ll have a little spike-tail coat an travel with a show !" An* nen I laughed till I looked round an Aunty was a-cryin Sometimes she acts like that, cause I got "Curv ture of the Spine" ! I set while Aunty s washin on my little long-leg stool, An watch the little boys an girls a-skippin by to school ; An I peck on the winder, an holler out an say: "Who wants to fight The Little Man at dares you all to day?" An nen the boys climbs on the fence, an little girls peeks through, An they all says : " Cause you re so big, you think we re feard o you !" An nen they yell, an shake their fist at me, like I shake mine _ They re thist in fun, you know, cause I got "Curv ture of the Spine" ! At evening, when the ironin s done, an* Aunty s fixed the fire, An filled an lit the lamp, an trimmed the wick an* turned it higher, An fetched the wood all in fer night, an locked the kitchen door, An stuffed the old crack where the wind blows in up through the floor itrftLI 3({-T" 9irr attad -Itx: jnaklrfs&ft . ns !zi asittad smoH 142 THE HOOSIER BOOK She sets the kittle on the coals, an biles an makes the tea, An fries the liver an the mush, an cooks a egg fer me; An sometimes when I cough so hard her elderberry wine Don t go so bad fer little boys with "Curv ture of the Spine"! ".jrii" ?,e rf -ji!>. -,Mi*fif<jfp/8 bldiWfehrjzfid isltJaaiTrev^ hHrio ni Aii&f^ An* nen when she putts me to bed an* fore she does she s got My blanket-nighty, at she maked, all good an warm an hot, Hunged on the rocker by the fire she sings me hymns, an tells Me bout The Good Man yes, an Elves, an Old En chanter spells ; An tells me more an more an more ! tel I m asleep, purt nigh Only I thist set up ag in an kiss her when she cry, A-tellin on bout some boy s Angel-mother an it s mine! . . . My Ma s a Angel but I m got "The Curv ture of the Spine" ! But Aunty s all so childish-like on my account, you see, I m most afeard she ll be took down an at s what bothers me! Cause ef my good old Aunty ever would git sick an die, I don t know what she d do in Heaven till / come, by an by:- Fer she s so ust to all my ways, an ever thing, you know, An no one there like me, to nurse an worry over so ! 143 THE HOOSIER BOOK Cause all the little childerns there s so straight an strong an* fine, They s nary angel bout the place with "Curv ture of the Spine" ! NOTE. The word "thist," as used in foregoing lines, is an occa sional childish pronunciation evolved from the word "just" a word which in child vernacular has manifold supplanters, such as "jus," "jes," "des," "jis," "dis," "jist," "dist," "ist," and even "gist," with hard g. In "thist," as used above, sound "th" as in the word "the." 75 Christmas Afterthought A FTER a thoughtful, almost painful pause, -L\. Bub sighed, "I m sorry fer old Santy Claus: They wus no Santy Claus, ner couldn t be, When he wuz ist a little boy like me !" In the Night WHEN it s night, and no light, too, Wakin by yourse f, With the old clock mockin you On the mantel-she f ; In the dark so still and black, You re afeard you ll hear Somepin awful pop and crack, "Go to sleep, my dear!" 144 THE HOOSIER BOOK That s what Mother says. And then s When we ain t afeard! Wunder, when we be big mens, Then ul we be skeerd ? Some night Mother s goned away, And ist us is here, Will The Good Man wake and say, "Go to sleep, my dear" ? When Our Baby Died WHEN our baby died My Ma she ist cried an cried ! Yes n my Pa he cried, too An /cried-An mean you.-^ An I tended like my doll She cried too An ever* all O ist ever body cried When our baby died! When our baby died- Nen I got to took a ride! An* we all ist rode an rode Clean to Heav n where baby goed * Mighty nigh! An nen Ma she Cried ag in-an Pa-an me.- A1I but ist the Angels cried When our baby died! 145 THE HOOSIER BOOK The Squirt-Gun Uncle Maked Me UNCLE SIDNEY, when he was here, Maked me a squirt-gun out o some Elder-bushes at growed out near Where wuz the brick-yard way out clear To where the Toll Gate come ! So when we walked back home again, He maked it, out in our woodhouse where Wuz the old work-bench, an the old jack-plane, An the old poke-shave, an the tools all lay n 1st like he wants em there. He sawed it first with the old hand-saw ; An nen he peeled off the bark, an got Some glass an scraped it; an told bout Pa, When he wuz a boy an fooled his Ma, An the whippin at he caught. F^LT" /-tkkd *t; M r It O Nen Uncle Sidney, he took an filed A old arn ramrod ; an one o the ends He screwed fast into the vise ; an smiled, Thinkin , he said, o when he wuz a child, Fore him an Pa wuz mens. i..9Ji>oi GIL aboi i ?,i ll& s~ff nA He punched out the peth, an nen he putt A plug in the end with a hole notched through ; Nen took the old drawey-knife an cut An* maked a handle at shoved clean shut But ist where yer hand held to. 146 THE HOOSIER BOOK An he wropt th uther end with some string an* white Piece o the sleeve of a old tored shirt ; An nen he showed me to hold it tight, An* suck in the water an work it right. An it ud ist squirt an squirt 1 . . ;rp That-Air Young-Un cT>b39l-?ikfR sdi .teriw biwon^i THAT-AIR young-un ust to set By the crick here day by day,- Watch the swallers dip and wet Their slim wings and skoot away; Watch these little snipes along The low banks tilt up and down Mongst the reeds, and hear the song Of the bullfrogs croakin roun : Ust to set here in the sun Watchin things, and listenun, Teared-like, mostly to the roar Of the dam below, er to That-air riffle nigh the shore Jes acrost from me and you. Ust to watch him from the door Of the mill. Ud rigg him out With a fishin -pole and line Dig worms fer him nigh about Jes spit on his bait ! but he Never keered much, pearantly, To ketch fish ! He d ruther fine Out some sunny place, and set 147 THE HOOSIER BOOK Watchin things, with droopy head, And "a-listenun," he said "Kind o listenun above The old crick to what the wet Warter was a-talkin of!" Jevver hear sich talk as that? Bothered Mother more n me What the child was cipher n at. Come home onc t and said at he Knowed what the snake- feeders thought When they grit their wings ; and knowed Turkle-talk, when bubbles riz Over where the old roots growed Where he th owed them pets o his Little turripuns he caught In the County Ditch and packed In his pockets days and days ! Said he knowed what goslin s quacked Could tell what the killdees sayes, And grasshoppers, when they lit In the crick and "minnies" bit Off their legs. "But, blame!" sayes he ? Sort o lookin clean above Mother s head and on through me (And them eyes! I see em yet!) "Blame!" he sayes, "ef I kin see, Er make out, jes what the wet Warter is a-talkin of !" Sii jrrcfr-! ji 6 (f jjid ,np> Jk^> .V,^ Made me nervous! Mother, though, Said best not to scold the child The Good Bein knowed. And so 148 THE HOOSIER BOOK We was only rickonciled When he d be asleep. And then, Time, and time, and time again, We ve watched over him, you know Her a-sayin nothin jes Kind o smoothin back his hair, And, all to herse f, I guess, Studyin up some kind o prayer She ain t tried yet. Onc t she said, Cotin Scriptur , " He, " says she, In a solemn whisper, " He Givuth His beloved sleep ! " And jes then I heerd the rain Strike the shingles, as I turned Res less to rds the wall again. Pity strong men dast to weep ! Specially when up above Thrash! the storm comes down and you Feel the midnight plum soaked through Heart and soul, and vrunder, too, What the warter s talkin of ! won zs btoD oz ion ?.r> n it i ^ i . -v | f- j Found his hat way down below Hinchman s Ford. Ves Anders he Rid and fetched it. Mother she Went wild over that, you know Hugged it! kissed itlTurribul! My hopes then was all gone too. . . < Brung him in, with both hands full O warter-lilies peared-like new- 149 THE HOOSIER BOOK Bloomed fer him renched whiter still In the clear rain, mixin fine And finer in the noon sunshine. ^,;:p , Winders of the old mill looked On him where the hill-road crooked In on through the open gate. . ^ ,,;>{ Laid him on the old settee On the porch there. Heerd the great Roarin dam acrost and we Heerd a crane cry in amongst The sycamores and then a dove Cutterin on the mill-roof then Heerd the crick, and thought again, "Now what s it a-talkin of ?" .nijsfi fifiV/ srff a bi o* 8o Old Man s Nursery Rhyme IN the jolly winters Of the long-ago, It was not so cold as now Oh! No! No! Then, as I remember, Snowballs to eat Were as good as apples now. And every bit as sweet ! In the jolly winters Of the dead-and-gone, Bub was warm as summer, With his red mitts on, 150 THE HOOSIER BOOK Just in his little waist- And-pants all together, Who ever heard him growl About cold weather? In the jolly winters Of the long-ago Was it half so cold as now? Oh ! No ! No ! Who caught his death o cold, Making prints of men Flat-backed in snow that now s Twice as cold again? In the jolly winters Of the dead-and-gone, Startin out rabbit huntin Early as the dawn, Who ever froze his fingers, Ears, heels, or toes, Or d a cared if he had? Nobody knows ! Nights by the kitchen stove, Shellin white and red Corn in the skillet, and Sleepin four abed! Ah! the jolly winters Of the long-ago! We were not as old as now Oh! No! No! 151 THE IIOOSIER BOOK 8 1 Ma. i and Jim MAX an Jim, They re each other s Fat an* slim Little brothers. Max is thin, An Jim, the fac s is, Fat ag in As little Max is ! Their Pa lowed He don t know whuther He s most proud Of one er th other! Their Ma says They re both so sweet ra/ That she guess She ll haf to eat em ! 82 The Old Haymow THE Old Haymow 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 1 152 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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 onc t I did ferget To go tel dinner was all et, An they had short-cake an Bud he Hogged up the piece Ma saved f er me ! SiJ-MW-tfq^wfesfi *3 Nen I won t let him play no more In our haymow where I keep store An* got hen-eggs to sell, an shoo The cackle-un old hen out, too! *3 frc*v/t airf qmorfo bSr! n& 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 ! Guincy-Pigs UINEY-PIGS is awful cute, vJT With their little trimbly snoot Sniffin at the pussly that We bring em to nibble at. 153 THE HOOSIER BOOK Looks like they re so clean an white, An so dainty an polite, They could eat like you an me When they s company! Tiltin down the clover-tops Till they spill, an overdrops The sweet morning dew Don t you Think they might have napkins, too? Ef a guiney-pig was big As a shore-an -certain pig, Nen he wouldn t ac so fine When he come to dine. Nen he d chomp his jaws an eat Things out in the dirty street, Dirt an all! An nen lay down In mud-holes an waller roun ! So the guiney-pigs is best, Cause they re nice an tidiest ; They eat most like you an me When they s company! The Land of Thus-and-So "TTOW would Willie like to go J- *- To the Land of Thus-and-So? Everything is proper there All the children comb their hair Smoother than the fur of cats, Or the nap of high silk hats; THE HOOSIER BOOK Every face is clean and white As a lily washed in light; Never vaguest soil or speck Found on forehead, throat or neck* Every little crimpled ear, In and out, as pure and clear As the cherry-blossom s blow In the Land of Thus-and-So. "Little boys that never fall Down the stairs, or .cry at all Doing nothing to repent, Watchful and obedient; Never hungry, nor in haste Tidy shoe-strings always laced ; Never button rudely torn From its fellows all unworn ; Knickerbockers always new Ribbon, tie, and collar, too ; Little watches, worn like men, Always promptly half-past ten- Just precisely right, you know, For the Land of Thus-anH-So! "And the little babies ther Give no one the slightest car* 1 Nurse has not a thing to do But be happy arid sigh Boo * While Mamma just nods, and knows Nothing but to doze and doze Never litter round the grate/ Never lunch or dinner late ; 155 THE HOOSIER BOOK Never any household din Peals without or rings within Baby coos nor laughing calls On the stairs or through the halls Just Great Hushes to and fro Pace the Land of Thus-and-So ! yrokl .* HP ;.;? tilj 2 A "Oh ! the Land of Thus-and-So ! Isn t it delightful, though ?" "Yes," lisped Willie, answering me Somewhat slow and doubtfully "Must be awful nice, but I Ruther wait till by and by Fore I go there maybe when I be dead I ll go there then. But" the troubled little face Closer pressed in my embrace "Le s don t never ever go To the Land of Thus-and-So !" <?5 Grandfather Squecrs y 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 threescore-and-ten, I ve the hang of it now and can do it again ! 156 THE HOOSIER BOOK "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 1 "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, f>ir "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 W r ar." 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 157 THE HOOSIER BOOK "With a horn-handled razor, whose e^ge 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 program 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 : 158 THE HOOSIER BOOK "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, I J^L "Then he d snort, and rear up, and roll over ; and there In the subsequent hush they could hear him chew air. V2 3[f2 M zVforifiM sljji.I "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." 159 THE HOOSIER ROOK 86 Little Mandy s Christinas-Tree T ITTLE Mandy and her Ma JL< S porest folks you ever saw ! Lived in porest house in town, Where the fence uz all tore down. .123T rfj io qot no rei^o^ eid rltiw aiixxi imif i And no front-door steps at all 1st a old box g inst the wall; And no door-knob on the door Outside. My! but they uz pore! >> .,da s aafrl 3360 -no qtr fam. b aif Wuz no winder-shutters on, And some of the winders gone, And where they uz broke they d pas e 1st brown paper crost the place. Tell you ! when it s winter there, And the snow ist ever where, Little Mandy s Ma she say Spec they ll freeze to death some day. Wunst my Ma and me when we Be n to church, and s goin to be Chris mus purty soon, we went There like the Committee sent. And-sir! when we re in the door, Wuz no carpet on the floor, And no fire and heels-and-head Little Mandy s tucked in bed ! 160 THE HOOSIER BOOK And her Ma telled my Ma she Got no coffee but ist tea, And fried mush and s all they had Sence her health broke down so bad. Nen Ma hug and hold me where Little Mandy s layin there ; And she kiss her, too, and nen Mandy kiss my Ma again. And my Ma she telled her we Goin to have a Chris mus-Tree, At the Sund y-School, at s fer ALL the childern, and fer her. Little Mandy think nen she Say, "What is a Chris mus-Tree?" Nen my Ma she gived her Ma Somepin at I never saw. oi ?-T3<t*irLw yl nm <yfo na /I And say she must take it, and She ist maked her keep her hand Wite close shut, and nen she kiss Her hand shut ist like it is. Nen we corned awaj r . . . . And nen When it s Chris mus Eve again, And all of us childerns be At the Church and Chris mus-Tree And all git our toys and things At old Santy Claus he brings And puts on the Tree ; wite where The big Tree uz standin there, THE HOOSIER BOOK And the things uz all tooked down, And the childerns, all in town, Got their presents nen we see They s a little Chris mus-Tree Wite behind the big Tree so We can t see till ncn, you know, And it s all ist loaded down With the purtiest things in town ! And the teacher smile and say: "This-here Tree at s hid away It s marked Little Mandy s Tree. - Little Mandy! Where is she?" Nen nobody say a word. Stillest place you ever heard ! Till a man tiptoe up where Teacher s still a-waitin there. Nen the man he whispers, so brrA Ist the Teacher hears, you know. 3ff3 Nen he tiptoe back and go Out the big door ist so slow ! Little Mandy, though, she don t Answer and Ma say "she won t Never, though each year they ll be Little Mandy s Chris mus-Tree Fer pore childern" my Ma says And Committee say they guess "Little Mandy s Tree" till be Bigger than the other Tree! 162 THE HOOSIER BOOK ou ^fi o-o g -- < 8? The Funniest Thing in the World E funniest thing in the world, I know, JL Is watchin the monkeys at s in the show ! Jumpin an runnin an* racin roun , Way up the top o the pole; nen down! First they re here, an nen they re there, An ist a most any an ever where ! Screechin an scratchin wherever they go, They re the funniest thing in the world, I know ! They re the funniest thing in the world, I think : Funny to watch em eat an drink ; Funny to watch em a-watchin us, An actin most like grown folks does! Funny to watch em p tend to be Skeered at their tail at they happen to see ; But the funniest thing in the world they do Is never to laugh, like me an you! -- ,- 88 Little Johnts s Chris mu-s w E got it up a-purpose, jes fer little Johnts, you know ; His mother was so pore an all, an had to manage so. Jes bein a War-widder, an her pension mighty slim, She d take in weavin , er work out, er anything fer him ! An little Johnts was puny-like but law, the nerve he had! You d want to kind o pity him, but couldn t, very bad, 163 THE HOOSIER BOOK His pants o army-blanket an his coat o faded blue Kep hintin of his father like, an* pity wouldn t do ! So we collogued together, onc t, one winter-time, at we Jes me an* mother an the girls, an Wilse, John-Jack an Free Would jine an git up little Johnts, by time at Chris mus come Some sort o doin s, don t you know, at would surprise him some. An so, all on the quiet, Mother she turns in an gits Some blue-janes cuts an makes a suit; an* then sets down an knits A pair o little galluses to go long with the rest An putts in a red-flannen back an buckle on the vest. The little feller d be n so much around our house, you see, An be n sich he p to her an all, an handy as could be, At Mother couldn t do too much fer little Johnts No, sir! She ust to jes declare at "he was meat-an -drink to her!" An Pinej , Lide, an Madaline they watch their chance an rid To Fountaintown with Lijey s folks; an bought a book, they did, O fairy tales, with pictur s in ; an got a little pair O red-top boots at John-Jack said he d be n a-pricin there. An* Lide got him a little sword, an Madaline, a drum ; An shootin -crackers Lawzy-day ! an they re so danger- some! 164 THE HOOSIER BOOK An* Piney, ever time the rest ud buy some other toy, She d take an turn in then an* buy more candy f er the boy ! "Well," thinks-says-I, when they got back, "your pocket- books is dry!" But little Johnts was there hisse f that afternoon, so I Well, all of us kep mighty mum, tel we got him away By tellin him be shore an come to-morry Chris mus Day An fetch his mother long with him ! An how he scud acrost The fields his towhead, in the dusk, jes like a streak o frost ! His comfert flutter n as he run an old Tige, don t you know, A-jumpin high fer rabbits an a-plowin* up the snow! jvjsh Uriora vm Ik ni JriivAM larhons ibia 1 nA It must a be n most ten that night afore we got to bed With Wilse an John-Jack he ppin us ; an Freeman in the shed, An Lide out with the lantern while he trimmed the Chris mus Tree Out of a little scrub-oak-top at suited to a "T M T All night I dreamp o hearin things a-skulkin round the place An "Old Kriss," with his whiskers off, an freckles on his face- An reindeers, shaped like shavin -hosses at the cooper- shop, A-stickin down the chimbly, with their heels out at the top ! 165 THE HOOSIER BOOK By time at Mother got me up twas plum daylight an more The front yard full o neighbers all a-crowdin round the door, With Johnts s mother leadin ; yes an little Johnts hisse f , Set up on Freeman s shoulder, like a jug up on the she f 1 Of course I can t describe it when they all got in to where We d conjered up the Chris mus Tree an all the fixin v s there ! Per all the shouts o laughture clappin* hands, an crackin jokes, Was heap o kissin goin on amongst the women-folks : ! iaoi t Fer, lo-behold-ye ! there they had that young-un ! An his chin A-wobblin like ; an , shore enough, at last he started in An sich another bellerin , in all my mortal days, I never heerd, er spect to hear, in woe s app inted ways ! An* Mother grabs him up an says : "It s more n he can , bear It s all too suddent fer the child, an too su prisin* ! There!" "Oh, no it ain t" sobbed little Johnts "I ain t su prised but I m A-cryin cause I watched you all, an knowed it all the time !" diiw 166 THE HOOSIER BOOK $p The Boys Candidate I" AS time at Uncle Sidney come, -L^ 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?" Ibl.i ltED 9ffe" *{K 9fl2 filA v ^ nimoD^iV iBrfW po 77/. Bumblebee YOU better not fool with a Bumblebee ! Ef you don t think they can sting you ll see ! They re lazy to look at, an kind o go Buzzin an bummin aroun so slow, An ac so slouchy an all fagged out, Danglin their legs as they drone about The hollyhawks at they can t climb in Ithout ist a-tumble-un out ag in! Wunst I watched one climb clean way In a jimson-blossom, I did, one day, An I ist grabbed it an nen let go An "Ooh-ooh! Honey! I told ye so!" Says The Raggedy Man ; an he ist run An pullt out the stinger, an don t laugh none, An says : "They has be n folks, I guess, At thought I wuz predjudust, more er less, Yit I still muntain at a Bumblebee Wears out his welcome too quick f er me !" 167 THE HOOSIER BOOK pi When the World Bu sts Through [CASUALLY SUGGESTED BY AN EARTHQUAKE] WHERE S a boy a-goin , An what s he goin to do, An* how s he goin to do it, When the world bu sts through? Ma she says "she can t tell What we re comin to !" An Pop says "he s ist skeered Clean plum through !" S pose we d be a-playin Out in the street, An the ground ud split up Bout forty feet! Ma says "she ist knows We ud tumble in"; An Pop says "he bets you Nen we wouldn t grin !" ifcsy/ 1 nevh drnib fwio b-JiblBw I J^mjW S pose we d ist be tendin* Like we had a show, Down in the stable Where we mustn t go. Ma says, "The earthquake Might make it fall"; An Pop says, "More n like Swaller barn an all!" "Jorri isl ybittii GO} 3mo:>taw iiff IIJQ di j\Y THE HOOSIER BOOK Landy ! ef we both wuz Runnin way from school, Out in the shady woods Where it s all so cool ! Ma says "a big tree Might sqush our head"; An* Pop says, "Chop em out Both killed dead !" But where s a boy goin , An what s he goin to do, An how s he goin to do it, Ef the world bu sts through? Ma she says "she can t tell What we re comin to !" An Pop says "he s ist skeered Clean plum through !" A Prospective Glimpse JANEY Pettibone s the best Little girl an purtiest In this town ! an lives next door, Up-stairs over their old store. Little Janey Pettibone An her Ma lives all alone, Cause her Pa broke up, an* nen Died cause they ain t rich again. 169 THE HOOSIER BOOK Little Janey s Ma she sews Fer my Ma sometimes, an goes An gives music-lessuns where People s got pianers there. But when Janey Pettibone Grows an grows, like I m a-growin , Nen I m go to keep a store, An sell things an sell some more - Till I m ist as rich ! An nen Her Ma can be rich again, Ef I m rich enough to own Little Janey Pettibone ! pj The Old Tramp A OLD Tramp slep in our stable wunst An* The Raggedy Man he caught An roust him up, an chased him off Clean out through our back lot! An th* old Tramp hollered back an said, "You re a purty man ! You air ! With a pair o eyes like two fried eggs, An a nose like a Bartlutt pear !" An Pm%affoJU Hjj^yik ajsfciarf ft A bsiCI 170 THE HOOSIER BOOK p^ The Pet Coon NOEY Bixler ketched him, an* 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. Ncn 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 f eller d stay in there and won t come out fer you Tendin like he s kind o skeered o boys at lives in town. Now he ain t af card 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! G ; : ? 3fJ *^B 3*^ ni noirvkj^ug to . flotga. n.qxa .boxft *o Jioa A 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 kind o 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 scooted through The fence, she says, "You better let my little boy^ alone, Er Greedy, next he whips yer dog, shall whip you, too !" THE HOOSIER BOOK P5 Naughty Claude w PHEN Little Claude was naughty wunst At dinner-time, an said He won t say "Thank you" to his Ma, She maked him go to bed An stay two hours an not git up, So when the clock struck Two, Nen Claude says, "Thank you, Mr. Clock, I m much obleeged to you!" .nv/oi m aavi! Jc* drf o !&.& S - 96 "The Preacher s Boy" T RTCKOLLECT the little tad, back, years and years J- ago "The Preacher s Boy" that every one despised and hated so! A meek-faced little feller, with white eyes and foxy hair, And a look like he expected ser ous trouble everywhere : A sort o fixed expression of suspicion in his glance ; His bare feet always scratched with briers; and green stains on his pants ; Molasses-marks along his sleeves; his cap-rim turned be hind And so it is "The Preacher s Boy" is brought again to mind! My fancy even brings the sly marauder back so plain, I see him jump our garden-fence and slip off down the lane; 172 THE HOOSIKR BOOK And^I seem to holler at him and git back the old reply: "Oh, no : your peaches is too green f er such a worm as I !" Fer he scorned his father s phrases every holy one he had "As good a man," folks put it, "as that boy of his was bad !" And again from their old buggy-shed, I hear the "rod un- spared" Of course that never "spoiled the child" for which nobody cared ! If any neighber ever found his gate without a latch, Or rines around the edges of his watermelon-patch; His pasture-bars left open ; or his pump-spout chocked with clay, He d swear twas "that infernal Preacher s Boy," right away! When strings was stretched acrost the street at night, and some one got An everlastin tumble, and his nose broke, like as not, And laid it on "The Preacher s Boy" no powers, low ner high, Could ever quite substantiate that boy s alibi! And did nobody like the boy? Well, all the pets in town Would eat out of his fingers; and canaries would come down And leave their swingin perches and their fish-bone jist to pick The little warty knuckles that the dogs would leap to lick. No little snarlin , snappin fiste but what would leave his bone To foller, ef he whistled, in that tantalizin tone 173 THE HOOSIER BOOK That made a goods-box whittler blasphemetisly protest "He couldn t tell, twixt dog and boy, which one was orn- riest !" Twas such a little cur as this, onc t, when the crowd was thick Along the streets, a drunken corner-loafer tried to kick, When a sudden foot behind him tripped him up, and falling so He "marked his man," and jerked his gun drawed up and let er go ! And the crowd swarmed round the victim holding close against his breast The little dog unharmed, in arms that still, as they caressed, Grew rigid in their last embrace, as with a smile of joy He recognized the dog was saved. So died "The Preach er s Boy"! l)fi ^rfgltttB J391J?, aril ieo-i3-G blno J I When it appeared, before the Squire, that fatal pistol-ball Was fired at "a dangerous beast," and not the boy at all, And the facts set forth established it was like-befittin then To order out a possy of the "city councilmen To kill the dog! But, strange to tell, they searched the country round, And never hide-ner-hair of that "said" dog was ever found ! And, somehow, then I sort o thought and half-way think, to-day The spirit of "The Preacher s Boy" had whistled him away. -ilt.ll iiiqq./!e , r?ihna slttjl uVl 174 THE HOOSIER BOOK p/ An Impetuous Resolve WHEN little Dickie Swope s a man, He s go to be a Sailor ; An little Hamey Tincher, he s A-go to be a Tailor ; Bud Mitchell, he s a-go to be A stylish Carriage-Maker; An when / grow a grea -big man, I m go to be a Baker ! ;im [[? i^Jsw v^flt JEflf 5ife^v^ 03 sis ssva girl bnA An Dick ll buy his sailor-suit O Hame ; an Hame ll take it An buy as fine a double-rig As ever Bud kin make it: An nen all three ll drive roun fer me s An we ll drive off togevver, A-slingin pie-crust long the road Ferever an f erever ! po 3 The Man in the Moon SAID The Raggedy Man, on a hot afternoon: My! Sakes ! What a lot o mistakes Some little folks makes on The Man in the Moon! But people that s be n up to see him, like me, And calls on him frequent and intimuttly, 1/5 THE HOOSIER BOOK Might drop a few facts that would interest you Clean ! Through ! If you wanted em to Some actual facts that might interest you ! O The Man in the Moon has a crick in his back; Whee ! Whimm ! Ain t you sorry for him? And a mole on his nose that is purple and black ; And his eyes are so weak that they water and run If he dares to dream even he looks at the sun, So he jes dreams of stars, as the doctors advise My! Eyes ! But isn t he wise To jes dream of stars, as the doctors advise? ] i>0-i j fo anor^trt^fq- niiml^A And The Man in the Moon has a boil on his ear Whee! "Whing ! What a singular thing ! J know! but these facts are authentic, my dear, There s a boil on his ear ; and a corn on his chin He calls it a dimple but dimples stick in Yet it might be a dimple turned over, you know! Whang ! Ho! Why, certainly so ! It might be a dimple turned over, you know ! 176 THE HOOSIER BOOK And The Man in the Moon has a rheumatic knee Gee! Whizz ! What a pity that is! And his toes have worked round where his heels ought to be. So whenever he wants to go North he goes South, And comes back with porridge-crumbs all round his mouth, And he brushes them off with a Japanese fan, Whing ! Whann! What a marvelous man ! What a very remarkably marvelous man ! And The Man in the Moon, sighed The Raggedy Man, Gits ! So . Sullonesome, you know, Up there by hisse f sence creation began ! That when I call on him and then come away, He grabs me and holds me and begs me to stay, Till Well! if it wasn t fer Jimmy-cum-jim, Dadd ! Limb 1 I d go pardners with him Jes ! jump my job here and be pardners with him! ! i9mo > *nf[>bbO vIBH mdw //c>T!vAs !Y n niton acf fnoV/ 177 THE HOOSIER BOOK pp #* % Goo din I xsiriW y4 fo # />tVc<> o />zV, and a fo # />tVf o puddin 7 /aid it all by fcr little Billy Goodin ! BOY-POET. LOOK so neat an sweet in all yer frills an fancy pleatin ! Better shet yer kitchen, though, afore you go to Meet- in ! Better hide yer mince-meat an stewed fruit an plums! Better hide yer pound-cake an bresh away the crumbs ! Better hide }^er cubbord-key when Billy Goodin comes, A-eatin ! an a-eatin ! an a-eatin ! Sight o* Sund y-doin s at ain t done in Meetin ! Sun acrost yer garden-patch a-pourin an a-beatin ; Meller apples drappin in the weeds an roun the groun Clingstones an sugar-pears a-ist a-plunkin down ! Better kind o comb the grass fore Billy comes aroun A-eatin ! an a-eatin ! an a-eatin ! > ; .- v tM! \-\\\ w-jHcmm j \ i~j\ j- naiiw it M \\\-S-\\ lliT Billy Goodin ain t a-go to go to any Meetin ! We ull watch an ketch an give the little sneak a beatin ! Better hint we want o stay n* snoop yer grapes an plums ! Better eat em all yerse f an suck yer stingy thumbs ! Won t be nothin anyhow when Billy Goodin comes ! A-eatin ! an a-eatin ! an a-eatin ! 178 THE HOOSIER BOOK IOO Prior to Miss Belle s Appearance ttlbm ia%I V^hjsrQ ,\;3rfl ^\ WHAT makes you come /j<?n> fer, So much to our house? Say? Come to see our big sister ! An Charley he says at you kissed her An he ketched you, th uther day I Didn t you, Charley? But we p omised Belle An* crossed our heart to never to tell Cause she gived us some o them-er Chawklliitrdrops at you bringed to her ! Charley he s my little b uther An we has a-mostest fun, Don t we, Charley? Our Muther, Whenever we whips one-another, Tries to whip us an we run Don t we, Charley? An nen, bime-by, Nen she gives us cake an pie Don t she, Charley? when we come in An p omise never to do it ag in ! ~:-rrav33 m l . ,Ji fmA He s named Charley. I m Willie An I m got the purtiest name ! But Uncle Bob he calls me "Billy" Don t he, Charley? N our filly We named "Billy," the same 1st like me ! An our Ma said At "Bob puts foolishnuss into our head ! 5 Didn t she, Charley? An she don t know Much about boys! Cause Bob said so! 179 THE HOOSIER BOOK Baby s a funniest feller ! Nain t no hair on his head Is they, Charley? It s meller Wite up there ! An ef Belle er Us ask wuz we that way, Ma said, Yes; an yer Pa s head wuz soft as that, An it s that way yet ! An Pa grabs his hat An says, "Yes, childern, she s right about Pa Cause that s the reason he married yer Ma !" An our Ma says at "Belle couldn Ketch nothin at all but ist bows " An Pa says at "you re soft as puddun !" An Uncle Bob says "you re a good-un Cause he can tell by yer nose !" Didn he, Charley? An when Belle ll play In the poller on th pianer, some day, Bob makes up funny songs about you, Till she gits mad like he wants her to ! Our sister Fanny she s leven Years old ! At s mucher an I Ain t it, Charley? . . . I m seven! But our sister Fanny s in Heaven! Nere s where you go ef you die ! Don t you, Charley ! Nen you has wings Ist like Fanny! an purtiest things! Don t you, Charley? An nen you can fly Ist fly an ever th mg ! . . . Wisht I d die ! ! 02 bi&z doH jjaifxO \iv/i<A iuodi; 180 THE IIOOSIER BOOK loi She "Displains" It "IT AD, too!" So contended Bess and May "Hadn t, neither!" Neighbor children, who were boasting Of their grandmammas, one day. -gcmnj* orij jgnr&i; r-> r ro<? sift borfonrhsg 9 A 08 "Had, too!" "Hadn t, neither!" A 11 it. J-J-T 1 All the difference begun r> nr f 1 ,, .By May s saying she d /te o grandmas While poor Bess had only one. ! Don-sop : on-oH w ! s^ll .iM O" "Had, too!" "Hadn t, neither!" :|m ^ Tossing curls, and kinks of friz! "How could you have two gran muvvers When ist one is all they is?" : & O2 UK fifiw 3.oioY arfT "Had, too!" "Hadn t, neither! Cause ef you had two" said Bess, "You d displain it!" Then May answered, "My gran mas wuz twins, I guess ! 02 ai ifioittB l !r>rl : o-< o i.so ieriT i r?/f$ t?T-i lii Tstiv/ov DnA. . -lana^a ijiifiil f^ofii 3th //oP I hnA "! sv3f IL-J{ 1o rjlltx osii nsrfT 181 THE HOOSIER BOOK 102 The Jolly Miller [RESTORED ROMAUNT] IT was a Jolly Miller lived on the River Dee ; He looked upon his piller, and there he found a flea "O Mr. Flea ! you have bit me, And you shall sh Drely die !" So he scrunched his bones ag inst the stones And there he let him lie ! Twas then the Jolly Miller he laughed and told his wife, And she laughed fit to kill her, and dropped her carving- knife ! "O Mr. Flea !" "Ho-ho !" "Tee-hee !" The} - both laughed fit to kill, Until the sound did almost drownd The rumble of the mill! "Laugh on, my Jolly Miller! and Missus Alillcr, too! But there s a wee ping -wilier will soon wave over you!" The voice was all so awful small So very small and slim ! He durst infer that it was her, Ner her infer twas him! That night the Jolly Miller, says he, "It s, Wifey dear, That cat o yourn, I d kill her ! her actions is so queer, She s rubbin g inst the grindstone-legs, And yowlin at the sky And I low the moon hain t greener Than the yaller of her eye!" 182 THE HOOSIER BOOK And as the Jolly Miller went chuckle-un to bed, Was Somepin jerked his piller from underneath his head! "O Wife," says he, on-easi-lee, "Fetch here that lantern there I" But Somepin moans in thunder-tones, "You fetch it ef you dare!" Twas then the Jolly Miller he trimbled and he quailed And his wife choked until her breath come back n she wailed! And "Oh!" 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!" Then the Flea-Ghost he grabbed him clos t, With many a ghastly smile, And from the door-step stooped and hopped About four hunderd mile ! At Aunty s House ONE time, when we z at Aunty s house Way in the country! where They s ist but woods an pigs, an cows An all s outdoors an air ! 183 THE HOOSIER BOOK An orchurd-swmg ; an churry-trees An churries in em ! Yes, an these- Here redhead birds steals all they please, An tetch em ef you dare ! W y, wunst, one time, when we wuz there, We ct out on the porch! Wite where the cellar door wuz shut The table wuz ; an I Let Aunty set by me an cut My vittuls up an pie. Tuz awful funny ! I could see The redheads in the churry-tree ; An beehives, where you got to be So keerful, goin by; An "Comp ny" there an all ! an we We et out on the porch! An I ist et p surves an things At Ma don t low me to An chickun-gizzurds (don t like wings Like Parunts does ! do you?) An all the time the wind blowed there, An I could feel it in my hair, An ist smell clover z;<?r where ! An a old redhead flew Purt nigh wite over my high-chair, When we et on the porch! o 184 THE HOOSIER BOOK 104 The Raggedy Man OTHE Raggedy Man ! He works f er Pa ; An he s the goodest man ever you saw ! He comes to our house dW fcry day, An waters the horses, an feeds em hay ; An he opens the shed an we all ist laugh When he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf ; An nen ef our hired girl says he can He milks the cow fer Lizabuth Ann. Ain t he a* awfu.l good Raggedy Man? Raggedy ! Raggedy ! Raggedy Man ! W y, The Raggedy Man he s ist so good, He splits the kindlin an chops the wood ; An nen he spades in our garden, too, An* does most things at boys can t do. He clumbed clean up in our big tree An shocked a apple down fer me An nother n , too, fer Lizabuth Ann An nother n , too, fer The Raggedy Man. Ain t he a awful kind Raggedy Man? Raggedy ! Raggedy ! Raggedy Man ! An The Raggedy Man one time say he Pick roast rambos from a orchurd-tree, An et em all ist roast an hot ! An it s so, too ! cause a corn-crib got Afire one time an all burn down On "The Smoot Farm," bout four mile from town- B85 THE HOOSIER BOOK On "The Smoot Farm" ! Yes an the hired han At worked there nen uz The Raggedy Man ! Ain t he the beatin est Raggedy Man? Raggedy ! Raggedy ! Raggedy Man ! The Raggedy Man s so good an kind He ll be our "horsey," an "haw"- an mind Ever thing at you make him do An* won t run off less you want him to ! I drived him wunst way down our lane An he got skeered, when it menced to rain, An ist rared up an squealed and run Purt nigh away ! an it s all in fun ! Nen he skeered ag in at a old tin can . . . Whoa ! y old runaway Raggedy Man ! Raggedy ! Raggedy ! Raggedy Man ! An The Raggedy Man, he knows most rhymes, An tells em, ef I be good, sometimes : Knows bout Giunts, an Griffuns, an Elves, An the Squidgicum-Squees at swallers the rselves i An , wite by the pump in our pasture-lot, He showed me the hole at the Wunks is got, At lives way deep in the ground, an can Turn into me, cr Lizabuth Ann ! Er Ala, er Pa, er The Raggedy Man ! Ain t he a funny old Raggedy Man? Raggedy ! Raggedy ! Raggedy Man ! An* wunst, when The Raggedy Man come late, An pigs ist root time the garden-gate, He tend like the pigs uz bears an said, "Old Bear-shooter ll shoot em dead !" 186 THE HOOSIER BOOK An race an* chase em, an they d ist run When he pint his hoe at em like it s a gun An go "Bang ! Bang !" nen tend he stan An load up his gun ag in ! Raggedy Man ! He s an old Bear-shooter Raggedy Man ! Raggedy ! Raggedy ! Raggedy Man ! An sometimes The Raggedy Man lets on We re little prince-children, an old King s gone To git more money, an lef us there Aiid Robbers is ist thick ever where ; An* nen ef we all won t cry, fer shore The Raggedy Man he ll come and " splore The Castul-halls," an steal the "gold" An steal us, too, an grab an hold An pack us off to his old "Cave" ! An Haymow s the "cave" o The Raggedy Man ! Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! The Raggedy Man one time, when he Wuz makin a little bow- n -orry fer me, Says "When you re big like your Pa is, Air you go to keep a fine store like his An be a rich merchunt an wear fine clothes? Er what air you go to be, goodness knows ?" An nen he laughed at Lizabuth Ann, An I says " M go to be a Raggedy Man ! I m ist go to be a nice Raggedy Man !" Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! I8 7 THE HOOSIER BOOK 105 A Boy s Mother MY mother she s so good to me, Ef I was good as I could be, I couldn t be as good no, sir ! Can t any boy be good as her ! She loves me when I m glad er sad ; She loves me when I m good er bad ; An , what s a funniest thing, she says She loves me when she punishes. I don t like her to punish me. That don t hurt, but it hurts to see Her cryin . Nen 7 cry; an nen We both cry an be good again. She loves me when she cuts an sews My little cloak an Sund y clothes ; An when my Pa comes home to tea, She loves him most as much as me. She laughs an tells him all I said, An grabs me up an pats my head : An I hug her, an hug my Pa. An love him purt nigh as much as Ma. 188 THE HOOSIKR BOOK 1 06 The Fishing Party WUNST we went a-fishin Ale An my Pa an Ma all three, When they wuz a pic-nic, way Out to Ranch s Woods, one day. An they wuz a crick out there, Where the fishes is, an where Little boys taint big an strong, Better have their folks along! My Pa he ist fished an fished ! An my Ma she said she wished Me an her was home ; an Pa Said he wished so worse n Ma. Pa said ef you talk, er say Anything, er sneeze, er play, Hain t no fish, -alive er dead, Ever go to bite ! he said. Purt nigh dark in town when we Got back home ; an Ma says she, Now she ll have a fish fer shore! An she buyed one at the store. Nen at supper, Pa he won t Eat no fish, an says he don t Like em. An he pounded me When I choked! . . . Ma, didn t he? 189 THE HOOSIER BOOK 107 The Boy Lives on Our Farm THE Boy lives on our Farm, he s not Afeard o horses none ! An he can make em lope, er trot, Er rack, er pace, er run. Sometimes he drives two horses, when He comes to town an brings A wagon-full o taters nen, An roastin -ears an things. Two horses is "a team," he says, An when you drive er hitch, The right-un s a "near-horse," I guess, Er "off" I don t know which. The Boy lives on our Farm, he told Me, too, at he can see, By lookin at their teeth, how old A horse is, to a T ! I d be the gladdest boy alive Ef I knowed much as that, An could stand up like him an drive, An ist push back my hat, Like he comes skallyhootin through Our alley, with one arm A-wavin Fare-ye-well ! to you The Boy lives on our Farm ! fnbib t iM . . 190 THE HOOSIER BOOK 108 The Runaway Boy WUNST I sassed my Pa, an he Won t stand that, an punished me,- Nen when he wuz gone that day, I slipped out an runned away. I tooked all my copper-cents, An clumbed over our back fence In the jimpson-weeds at growed Ever where all down the road. Nen I got out there, an nen I runned some an runned again When I met a man at led A big cow at shooked her head. I went down a long, long lane Where was little pigs a-play n ; An a grea -big pig went "Booh !" An jumped up, an skeered me too, Nen I scampered past, an they Was somebody hollered "Hey !" An I ist looked ever where, An they wuz nobody there. I want to, but I m fraid to try To go back. . . . An by-an -by, Somepin hurts my th oat inside An I want my Ma an* cried. 191 THE HOOSIER BOOK Nen a grea -big girl come through Where s a gate, an* telled me who Am 1 ? an ef I tell where My home s at she ll show me there. But I couldn t ist but tell What s my name; an she says "well/ An* she tooked me up an says "She know where I live, she guess." Nen she telled me hug wite close Round her neck ! an off she goes Skippin up the street ! An nen Purty soon I m home again. An my Ma, when she kissed me, Kissed the big girl too, an she Kissed me ef I p omise shore I won t run away no more ! 109 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 192 THE HOOSIER BOOK An git all spilled; nen bakes it, so It s custard pie, first thing you know 1 An* nen she ll say : "Clear out o my way! They s time fer work, an time fer play!- Take yer dough, an rim, child, run ! Er I cain t git no cookin done 1" 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 "IV hew!" an* nen leans on His old crook-scythe, and blinks his eyes An* sniffs all round 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, 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 maccordeun, Pa says "Lan - O -Gracious! who can her beau be?" 193 THE HOOSIER BOOK An I marched in, an Lizabuth Ann Wuz parchin corn fer The Raggedy Man I Better say "Clear out o the way ! They s time fer work, an time fer play I Take the hint, an run, child, run ! Er we cain t git no courtin* done !" GREEN FIELDS AND RUNNING BROOKS no On the Banks O Deer Crick ON THE banks o Deer Crick ! There s the place fer me! Worter slidin past ye jes as clair as it kin be : See yer shadder in it, and the shadder o the sky, And the shadder o the buzzard as he goes a-lazin* by; Shadder o the pizen-vines, and shadder o the trees And I purt nigh said the shadder o the sunshine and the breeze ! Well I never seen the ocean ner I never seen the sea : On the banks o Deer Crick s grand enough fer me ! On the banks o Deer Crick mil d er two front town Long tip where the mill-race comes a-loafin down, Like to git up in there mongst the sycamores And watch the worter at the dam, a-f rothin as she pours : Crawl out on some old log, with my hook and line, Where the fish is jes so thick you kin see em shine As they flicker round yer bait, coaxin you to jerk, Tel yer tired ketchin of em, mighty nigh, as work! On the banks o Deer Crick ! Allus my delight Jes to be around there take it day er night ! Watch the snipes and killdees foolin half the day Er these- ere little worter-bugs skootin ever way ! 195 THE HOOSIER BOOK Snake-feeders glancin round, er dartin out o sight ; And dewfall, and bullfrogs, and lightnin -bugs at night Stars up through the tree-tops er in the crick below, And smell o mussrat through the dark clean from the old by-o! Er take a tromp, some Sund y, say, way up to "Johnson s Hole," And find where lie s had a fire, and hid his fishin -pole : Have yer "dog-leg" with ye, and yer pipe and "cut-and- dry"- Pocketful o corn-bread, and slug er two o rye, Soak yer hide in sunshine and waller in the shade Like the Good Book tells us "where there re none to make afraid !" Well ! I never seen the ocean ner I never seen the sea On the banks o Deer Crick s grand enough f er me ! .-nwoi frrf b lrtn- obit? 13 jCl *o ajlnfid 3rfi n in How John Quit the Farm NOBODY on the old farm here but Mother, me and John, Except, of course, the extry he p when harvest-time come on And then, I want to say to you, we needed he p about, As you d admit, ef you d a seen the way the crops turned out! A better quarter-section, ner a richer soil warn t found Than this-here old-home place o ourn fer fifty miles around ! 196 THE HOOSIER BOOK The house was small but plenty-big we found it from the day That John our only livin son packed up and went away. You see, we tuk sich pride in John his mother more n me That s natchurul ; but both of us was proud as proud could be; Per the boy, from a little chap, was most oncommon bright, And seemed in work as well as play to take the same delight. He allus went a-whistlin round the place, as glad at heart As robins up at five o clock to git an airly start ; And many a time fore daylight Mother s waked me up to say "Jes* listen, David ! listen ! Johnny s beat the birds to day !" High-sperited from boyhood, with a most inquirin turn, He wanted to learn ever thing on earth they was to learn : He d ast more plaguy questions in a mortal-minute here Than his grandpap in Paradise could answer in a year ! And read! w y, his own mother learnt him how to read and spell; And "The Childern of the Abbey" w y, he knowed that book as well At fifteen as his parents ! and "The Pilgrim s Progress," too Jes knuckled down, the shaver did, and read em through and through ! 197 THE HOOSIER BOOK At eighteen, Mother lowed the boy must have a better chance That we ort to educate him, under any circumstance ; And John he j ined his mother, and they ding-donged and kep on, Tel I sent him off to school in town, half glad that he was gone. But I missed him w y, of course I did! The Fall and Winter through I never built the kitchen-fire, er split a stick in two, Er fed the stock, er butchered, er swung up a gambrel- pin, But what I thought o John, and wished that he was home ag in. He d come, sometimes on Sund ys most and stay the Sund y out; And on Thanksgivin -Day he peared to like to be about : But a change was workin on him he was stiller than before, And didn t joke, ner laugh, ner sing and whistle any more. And his talk was all so proper ; and I noticed, with a sigh, He was tryin to raise side-whiskers, and had on a striped tie, And a standin -collar, ironed up as stiff and slick as bone ; And a breast-pin, and a watch and chain and plug-hat of his own. But when Spring-weather opened out, and John was to come home And he p me through the season, I was glad to see him come; 198 THE HOOSIER BOOK But my happiness, that evening, with the settin sun went down, When he bragged of "a position" that was offered him in town. "But," says I, "you ll not accept it?" "W y, of course I will," says he. "This drudgin on a farm," he says, "is not the life fer me; I ve set my stakes up higher/ he continued, light and gay, "And town s the place fer me, and I m a-goin right away!" And go he did ! his mother clingin to him at the gate, A-pleadin and a-cryin ; but it hadn t any weight. I was tranquiller, and told her twarn t no use to worry so, And enclasped her arms from round his neck round mine and let him go ! I felt a little bitter feelin* foolin round about The aidges of my conscience; but I didn t let it out; I simply retch out, trimbly-like, and tuk the boy s hand, And though I didn t say a word, I knowed he d understand. And well! sence then the old home here was mighty lonesome, shore ! With me, a-workin in the field, and Mother at the door, Her face ferever to rds the town, and fadin* more and more Her only son nine miles away, a-clerkin in a store ! The weeks and months dragged by us ; and sometimes the boy would write A letter to his mother, sayin that his work was light, And not to feel oneasy about his health a bit Though his business was confinin , he was gittin used to it. 199 THE HOOSIER BOOK And sometimes he would write and ast liow / was gittin on, And ef I had to pay out much fer he p sence he was gone ; And how the hogs was doin , and the balance of the stock, And talk on fer a page er two jes like he used to talk. And he wrote, along fore harvest, that he guessed he would git home, Fer business would, of course, be dull in town. But he didn t come : We got a postal later, sayin when they had no trade They filled the time "invoicin goods," and that was why he stayed. - :>m<fr bflHOi afc>9n fcifl bauoi mo"d Z-H: .::;:;><; And then he quit a-writin altogether: Not a word Exceptin what the neighbers brung who d been to town and heard What store John was clerkin in, and went round to inquire If they could buy their goods there less and sell their produce higher. And so the Summer faded out, and Autumn wore away, And a keener Winter never fetched around Thanksgivin - Day! The night before that day of thanks I ll never quite fergit, The wind a-howlin* round the house it makes me creepy yit! And there set me and Mother me a-twistin at the prongs Of a green scrub-ellum forestick with a vicious pair of tongs, 200 THE HOOSIER BOOK And Mother sayin , "David! David!" in a undertone, As though she thought that I was thinkin bad-words unbeknown. "I ve dressed the turkey, David, fer to-morrow," Mother said, A-tryin to wedge some pleasant subject in my stubborn head "And the mince-meat I m a-mixin is perfection mighty nigh ; And the pound-cake is delicious-rich " "Who ll eat em?" I-says-I. "The cramberries is drippin -sweet," says Mother, runnin* on, P tendin not to hear me ; "and somehow I thought of John All the time they was a-jellin fer you know they allus was His favorite he likes em so !" Says I, "Well s pose he does?" "Oh, nothin much !" says Mother, with a quiet sort o smile "This gentleman behind my cheer may tell you after while !" And as I turned and looked around, some one riz up and leant And putt his arms round Mother s neck, and laughed in low content. ".YSW rj rx JoM KB ff -fl". 201 THE HOOSIER BOOK "It s me," he says "your fool-boy John, come back to shake your hand ; Set down with you, and talk with you, and make you understand How dearer yit than all the world is this old home that we Will spend Thanksgivin in fer life jes Mother, you and me !" Nobody on the old farm here but Mother, me and John, Except, of course, the extry he p when harvest-time comes on ; And then, I want to say to you, we need sich he p about, As you d admit, ef you could see the way the crops turns out! 112 His Mother s W a S ud allus haf to say Somepin bout "his mother s way." He lived hard-like never j ined Any church of any kind. "It was Mother s way," says he, "To be good enough fer me And her too, and cert inly Lord has heerd her pray !" Propped up on his dyin bed, "Shore as Heaven s overhead, I m a-goin there," he said "It was Mother s way." 202 THE HOOSIER BOOK Jap Miller JAP MILLER down at Martinsville s the blamedest feller yit! When he starts in a-talkin other folks is apt to quit ! Pears like that mouth o his n wuzn t made fer nothin else But jes to argify em down and gether in their pelts: He ll talk you down on tariff ; er he ll talk you down on tax, And prove the pore man pays em all and them s about the f ac s ! Religen, law, er politics, prize-fightin , er baseball Jes tetch Jap up a little and he ll post you bout em all. ol ; And the comicalest feller ever tilted back a cheer And tuk a chaw tobacker kind o like he didn t keer. There s where the feller s stren th lays, he s so common- like and plain, They hain t no dude about old Jap, you bet you nary grain ! They lected him to Council and it never turned his head, And didn t make no differunce what anybody said, He didn t dress no finer, ner rag out in fancy clothes ; But his voice in Council-meetin s is a turrer to his foes. He s fer the pore man ever time! And in the last cam paign He stumped old Morgan County, through the sunshine and the rain, And helt the banner up ards from a-trailin in the dust And cut loose on monopolies and cuss d and cuss d and cuss d ! 203 THE HOOSIER BOOK He d tell some funny story ever now and then, you know, Tel, blame it! it wuz better n a jack-o -lantern show! And I d go furder, yit, to-day, to hear old Jap norate Than any high-toned orator at ever stumped the State ! W y, that-air blame Jap Miller, with his keen sircastic fun, Has got more friends than ary candidate at ever run ! Don t matter what his views is, when he states the same to you, They allus coincide with yourn, the same as two and two : You can t take issue with him er, at least, they hain t no sense In startin in to clown him, so you better not commence. The best way s jes to listen, like your humble servant does, And jes concede Jap Miller is the best man ever wuz! H4 Jack the Giant Killer BAD BOY S VERSION TELL you a story an it s a f ac : Wunst wuz a little boy, name wuz Jack, An he had a sword an buckle an strap Maked of gold, an a " visibul cap" ; An he kilkd Gi nts at et whole cows Th horns an all an pigs an sows! But Jack, his golding sword wuz, oh ! So awful sharp at he could go 204 THE HOOSIER BOOK An* cut th f ole Gi nts clean in too Tore ey knowed what he wuz goin to do ! An* one ole Gi nt, he had four Heads, and name wuz "Bumblebore" An he wuz feared o Jack cause he, Jack, he killed six five ten three, An all o th uther ole Gi nts hut him : An thay wuz a place Jack haf to swim Fore he could git t ole "Bumblebore"- Nen thay wuz "griffuns" at the door : But Jack, he thist plunged in an* swum Clean acrost; an when he come To th uther side, he thist put on His " visibul cap," an nen, dog-gone ! You couldn t see him at all ! An so He slewed the "griffuns" boff, you know! Nen wuz a horn hunged over his head, High on th wall, an words at read, "Whoever kin this trumput blow Shall cause the Gi nt s overth ow!" An* Jack, he thist reached up an blowed The stuffin out of it ! an th owed Th castul-gates wide open, an Nen tuk his gold sword in his han , An thist marched in t* ole "Bumblebore," An , fore he knowed, he put bout four Heads on him an chopped em off, too! Wisht at I d been Jack! don t you? 205 THE HOOSIER BOOK j/5 Farmer Whipple. Bachelor IT S a mystery to see me a man o fifty-four, Who s lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year and more A-lookin glad and smilin ! And they s none o you can sa That you can guess the reason why I. feel so good to-day ! I must tell you all about it ! But I ll have to deviate A little in beginnin so s to set the matter straight As to how it comes to happen that I never took a wife Kind o "crawfish" from the Present to the Spring-time of my life ! I was brought up in the country: Of a family of five Three brothers and a sister I m the only one alive, Fer they all died little babies; and twas one o Mother s ways, You know, to want a daughter ; so she took a girl to raise. The sweetest little thing she was, with rosy cheeks, and fat- We was little chunks o shavers then about as high as that ! But some way we sort o suited-\ike ! and Mother she d declare She never laid her eyes on a more lovin pair Than we was ! So we growed up side by side fer thirteen year , And every hour of it she growed to me more dear ! 206 THE HOOSIER BOOK W y, even Father s dyin , as he did, I do believe Warn t more affectin to me than it was to see her grieve! I was then a lad o twenty; and I felt a flash o pride In thinkin all depended on me now to pervide Per Mother and f er Mary ; and I went about the place With sleeves rolled up and workin , with a mighty smilin* face. Fer sompin else was workin ! but not a word I said Of a certain sort o notion that was runnin through my head, "Some day I d maybe marry, and a brother s love was one Thing a lover s was another!" was the way the notion run! I remember onc t in harvest, when the "cradle-in " was done (When the harvest of my summers mounted up to twenty- one), I was ridin home with Mary at the closin* o the day A-chawin straws and thinkin , in a lover s lazy way! And Mary s cheeks was burnin like the sunset down the lane : I noticed she was thinkin , too, and ast her to explain. Well when she turned and kissed me, with her arms around me law! I d a bigger load o Heaven than I had a load o straw ! T don t p tend to learnin , but I ll tell you what s a fac , They s a mighty truthful sayin somers in a almanac THE HOOSIER BOOK Er somers bout "puore happiness" perhaps some folks ll laugh At the idy "only lastin jest two seconds and a half." But it s jest as true as preachin ! fer that was a sister s kiss, And a sister s lovin confidence a-tellin to me this: "She was happy, be in promised to the son o farmer Brown," And my feelin s struck a pardnership with sunset and went down ! I don t know how I acted, I don t know what I said, Fer my heart seemed jest a-turnin to an ice-cold lump o lead; And the hosses kind o glimmered before me in the road, And the lines fell from my fingers And that was all I knowed -jr"ov/> ?.>,* t?? ff j- :; fi ? : firm. ?, vrr? 1<> J- r .<rr.(.H Fer well, I don t know how long They s a dim remem- berence Of a sound o snortin hosses, and a stake-and-ridered fence A-whizzin past, and wheat-sheaves a-dancin in the air. And Mary screamin "Murder !" and a-runnin up to where 7 was layin by the roadside, and the wagon upside down A-leanin on the gate-post, with the wheels a-whirlin round ! And I tried to raise and meet her, but I couldn t, with a vague Sort o* notion comin to me that I had a broken leg. 208 THE HOOSIER BOOK Well, the women missed me through it; but many a time I d sigh As I d keep a-gittin better instid o goin to die, And wonder what was left me worth livin fer below, When the girl I loved was married to another, don t you know ! And my thoughts was as rebellious as the folks was good and kind When Brown and Mary married Railly must a been my wind Was kind o out o kilter ! fer I hated Brown, you see, Worse n pizen and the feller whittled crutches out fer me And done a thousand little ac s o kindness and respec And me a-wishin all the time that I could break his neck ! My relief was like a mourner s when the funeral is done When they moved to Illinois in the Fall o Forty-one. Then I went to work in airnest I had nothin much in view But to drownd out rickollections and it kep me busy, too ! But I slowly thrived and prospered, tel Mother used to say She expected yit to see me a wealthy man some day. Then I d think how little money was, compared to happi ness And who d be left to use it when I died I couldn t guess ! But I ve still kep speculatin and a-gainin year by year, Tel I m payin half the taxes in the county, mighty near ! 209 THE HOOSIER BOOK Well ! A year ago er better, a letter comes to hand Astin how I d like to dicker fer some Illinois land "The feller that had owned it," it went ahead to state, "Had jest deceased, insolvent, leavin chance to specu late," And then it closed by sayin that I d "better come and see." I d never been West, anyhow a most too wild fer me, I d allus had a notion ; but a lawyer here in town Said I d find myself mistakend when I come to look around. So I bids-good-by to Mother, and I jumps aboard the train, A-thinkin* what I d bring her when I come back home again And ef she d had an idy what the present was to be, I think it s more n likely she d a went along with me ! Cars is awful tejus ridin , fer all they go so fast! But finally they called out my stoppin -place at last : And that night, at the tavern, I dreamp I was a train O cars, and sheered at sornepin , runnin down a country lane! Well, in the mornin airly after huntin up the man The lawyer who was wantin to swap the piece o land We started fer the country ; and I ast the history Of the farm its former owner and so forth, etcetery! And well it was inters/in I su prised him, I suppose By the loud and frequent manner in which I blowed my nose ! 210 THE HOOSIER BOOK But his su prise was greater, and it made him wonder more, When I kissed and hugged the widder when she met us at the door ! It was Mary: . . . They s a feelin a-hidin down in here Of course I can t explain it, ner ever make it clear. It was with us in that meetin , I don t want you to f ergit ! And it makes me kind o nervous when I think about it yit ! I bought that farm, and deeded it, afore I left the town, With "title clear to mansions in the skies," to Mary Brown ! And fu thermore, I took her and the childern fer you see, They d never seed their Grandma and I fetched em home with me. So now you ve got an idy why a man o fifty-four, Who s lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year and more, Is a-lookin glad and smilin ! And I ve jest come into town To git a pair o license fer to marry Mary Brown. 116 Dawn, Noon and Dewfall DAWN, noon and dewfall ! Bluebird and robin Up and at it airly, and the orchard-blossoms bobbin ! Peekin from the winder, half awake, and wishin I could go to sleep ag in as well as go a-fishin ! 211 THE HOOSTER BOOK On the apern o* the dam, legs a-danglin over, Drowsy-like with sound o worter and the smell o clover: Fish all out a-visitin cept some dratted minnor ! Yes, and mill shet down at last and hands is gone to dinner. in Trompin home acrost the fields : Lightnin -bugs a-blinkin In the wheat like sparks o things feller keeps a-thinkin : Mother waitin supper, and the childern there to cherr me ! And fiddle on the kitchen-wall a-jes a-eechin fer me! I 1/7 As My Uncle Used to Say :^[ j/ l fmA I jTilim;- bm: I;/:; ::" .:. VE thought a power on men and things As my uncle ust to say, And ef folks don t work as they pray, i jings! W y they ain t no use to pray! Ef you want somepin , and jes dead-set A-pleadin fer it with both eyes wet, And tears won t bring it, w y, you try sweat As my uncle ust to say. They s some don t know their A, B, C s As my uncle ust to say And yit don t waste no candle-grease, Ner whistle their lives away! 212 THE HOOSIER BOOK But ef they can t write no book, ner rhyme No ringin song fer to last all time, They can blaze the way fer "the march sublime/ As my uncle ust to say. Whoever s Foreman of all things here, As my uncle ust to say, He knows each job at we re best fit fer, And our round-up, night and day : And a-sizin His work, east and west, And north and south, and worst and best, I ain t got nothin to suggest, As my uncle ust to say. 118 A Full Harvest SEEMS like a feller d ort o jes to-day Git down and roll and waller, don t you know In that-air stubble, and flop up and crow, Seein sich crops ! I ll undertake to say There re no wheat s ever turned out thataway Afore this season ! Folks is keerless, though, And too fergitful caze we d ort o show More thankfulness! Jes looky hyonder, hey? And watch that little reaper wadin thue That last old yaller hunk o harvest-ground Jes natchur ly a-slicin it in two Like honeycomb, and gaumin it around The field like it had nothin else to do On y jes waste it all on me and you! 213 THE HOOS1ER BOOK up Right Here at Home RIGHT here at home, boys, in old Hoosierdom, Where strangers allus joke us when they come ; And brag o their old States and interprize Yit settle here; and fore they realize, They re "hoosier" as the rest of us, and live Right here at home, boys, with their past f ergive ! Right here at home, boys, is the place, I guess, Fer me and you and plain old happiness : We hear the World s lots grander likely so, We ll take the World s word fer it and not go. We know its ways ain t our ways so we ll stay Right here at home, boys, where we know the way Right here at home, boys, where a well-to-do Man s plenty rich enough and knows it, too, And s got a extry dollar, any time, To boost a feller up at wants to climb And s got the git-up in him to go in And git there, like he purt nigh allus kin ! Right here at home, boys, is the place fer us ! Where folks heart s bigger n their money-pu s ; And where a common feller s jes as good As ary other in the neighberhood : The World at large don t worry you and me Right here at home, boys, where we ort to be ! I uov l>fi am-:, no He J? y;>ir.v V 214 THE HOOSIER BOOK Right here at home, boys jes right where we air! Birds don t sing any sweeter anywhere : Grass don t grow any greener n she grows Across the pastur where the old path goes, All things in ear-shot s purty, er in sight, Right here at home, boys, ef we sice em right. Right here at home, boys, where the old home-place Is sacerd to us as our mother s face, Jes as we rickollect her, last she smiled And kissed us dyin so and rickonciled, Seem us all at home here none astray Right here at home, boys, where she sleeps to-day. f -^wpri3i yo^ ^ ^ ibrrJ ?/o\ nA .WOT R ni Jffi ilooJ p. irfJDiq ibrIT 120 Sister Jones s Confession I THOUGHT the deacon liked me, yit I warn t adzackly shore of it Per, mind ye, time and time ag in, When jiners ud be comin in, I d seed him shakin hands as free With all the sistern as with me! But jurin last Revival, where He called on me to lead in prayer, An kneeled there with me, side by side, A-whisper n* "he felt sanctified Jes tetchin of my gyarment s hem," That settled things as fur as them- Thare other wimmin was concerned! And well ! I know I must a turned 215 THE HOOSIER BOOK A dozen colors! Flurried? la! No mortal sinner never saw A gladder widder than the one A-kneelin there and wonderun Who d pray! So glad, upon my word, I railly couldn t thank the Lord! Iry and Billy and Jo A TINTYPE -- -VKttei. jnon -JTJ I rKrtori iB OK ?n nh IRY an Billy an Jo! Iry an Billy s the boys, An Jo s their dog, you know, Their pictur s took all in a row. Bet they kin kick up a noise Iry and Billy, the boys, And that-air little dog Jo! Iry s the one at stands Up there a-lookin so mild An meek with his hat in his hands, Like such a bediant child (Sakcs-alive!)An Billy he sets In the cheer an holds on to Jo an sweats Hisse f, a-lookin so good! Ho-ho ! Iry an Billy an Jo ! Yit the way them boys, you know, Usen to jes turn in An fight over that dog Jo Wuz a burnin -shame-an -a-sin ! 216 THE HOOSIER BOOK Iry he d argy at, by gee-whizz ! That-air little Jo-dog wuz his! An* Billy he d claim it wuzn t so Cause the dog wuz hisn! An at it they d go, Nip-an -tugg, tooth-an -toe-nail, you know- Try an Billy an Jo ! But their Pa (He wuz the marshal then) He tended-like at he jerked em up; An got a jury o Brick-yard men An helt a trial about the pup : An he says he jes like to a died When the rest o us town-boys testified Regardin , you know, Iry an Billy an* Jo. Cause we all knowed, when the Gipsies they Camped down here by the crick last Fall, They brung Jo with em, an give him away To Iry an Billy f er nothin at all ! So the jury fetched in the verdick so Jo he ain t neether o theirn fer shore He s both their dog, an jes no more! An so They ve quit quarrelin long ago, Iry an Billy an Jo. 217 THE HOOSIER BOOK 122 Them Flowers TAKE a feller at s sick and laid up on the shelf, All shaky, and ga nted, and pore Jes all so knocked out he can t handle hisself With a stiff upper-lip any more; Shet him up all alone in the gloom of a room As dark as the tomb, and as grim, And then take and send him some roses in bloom, And you can have fun out o him ! You ve ketched him fore now when his liver was sound And his appetite notched like a saw A-mockin you, maybe, fer romancin round With a big posy-bunch in yer paw; But you ketch him, say, when his health is away, And he s flat on his back in distress, And then you kin trot out yer little bokay And not be insulted, I guess ! You see, it s like this, what his weakness is, Them flowers makes him think of the days Of his innocent youth, and that mother o his, And the roses that she us t to raise : So here, all alone with the roses you send Bein sick and all trimbly and faint, My eyes is my eyes is my eyes is old friend Is a-leakin I m blamed ef they ain t ! 218 THE HOOSIER BOOK By Any Other Name FIRST the teacher called the roll, Clos t to the beginning "Addeliney Bowersox !" Set the school a-grinnin . Winter-time, and stingin cold When the session took up Cold as we all looked at her, Though she couldn t look up ! Total stranger to us, too Country folks ain t allus Nigh so shameful unpolite As some people call us! But the honest facts is, then, Addeliney Bower- Sox s feelin s was so hurt She cried half an hour! My dest was acrost from hern : Set and watched her tryin To p tend she didn t keer, And a kind o dryin Up her tears with smiles tel I Thought, "Well, Addeliney Bowersox is plain, but she s Purty as a piney!" It s be n many of a year Sence that most oncommon Cur ous name o Bowersox Struck me so abomin- 219 THE HOOSIER BOOK Nubble and outlandish-like ! I changed it to Adde- Liney Daubenspeck and that Nearly killed her Daddy! 124. The Hoodoo OWNED a pair o skates onc t. Traded Fer em, stropped em on and waded Up and down the crick, a-waitin Tel she d freeze up fit fer skatin . Mildest winter I remember More like Spring- than Winter-weather! Didn t frost tel bout December Git up airly ketch a feather Of it, mayby, crost the winder Sunshine swinge it like a cinder! Well I waited and kep waitin ! Couldn t see my money s wo th in Them-air skates, and was no skatin Ner no hint o ice ner nothin ! So, one day along in airly Spring I swopped em off and barely Closed the dicker, fore the weather Natchurly jes slipped the ratchet, And crick tail-race all together, Froze so tight cat couldn t scratch it ! 220 THE HOOSIER BOOK 125 What Chris mas Fetched the Wigginses WINTER-TIME, er Summer-time, Of late years I notice I m Kind o like, more subjec to What the weather is. Now, you Folks at lives in town, I s pose, Thinks it s bully when it snows; But the chap at chops and hauls Yer wood fer ye, and then stalls, And snapps tuggs and swingletrees, And then has to walk er freeze, Hain t so much "stuck on" the snow As stuck in it Bless ye, no ! When it s packed, and sleighin s good, And church in the neighberhood, Them at s got their girls, I guess, Takes em, likely, more er less. Tell the plain facts o the case, No men-folks about our place On y me and Pap and he Lows at young folks company Allus made him sick! So I Jes don t want, and jes don t try! Chinkypin, the dad-burn town, S too fur off to loaf aroun Eether day er night and no Law compellin me to go! Less n some Old-Settlers Day, Er big-doin s thataway 221 THE HOOSIER BOOK Then, to tell the p inted fac , I ve went more so s to come back By old Guthrie s still-house, where Minors has got licker there That s pervidin we could show em Old folks sent fer it from home! Visit roun the neighbers some, When the boys wants me to come. Coon-hunt with em ; er set traps Fer mussrats; er jes perhaps, Lay in roun the stove, you know, And parch corn, and let her snow 1 Mostly, nights like these, you ll be (Ef you got a writ fer me) Ap to skeer me up, I guess, In about the Wigginses . Nothin roun our place to keep Me at home with Pap asleep Fore it s dark ; and Mother in Mango pickles to her chin; And the girls, all still as death, Piecin quilts. Sence I drawed breath Twenty year ago, and heerd Some girls whisper n so s it peared Like they had a row o pins In their mouth right there begins My first rickollections, built On that-air blame old piece-quilt ! Summer-time, it s jes the same Cause I ve noticed, and I claim, 222 THE HOOSIER BOOK As I said afore, I m more Subjec to the weather, shore, Preaching my majority, Than I ever ust to be! Callin back last Summer, say, Don t seem hardly past away With night closin in, and all S lonesome-like in the dewfall : Bats ad-drat their ugly muggs ! Flicker n by ; and lightnin -bugs Huckster n roun the airly night Little sickly gasps o light; Whippoorvvills, like all possess d, Moanin out their mournfullest; Frogs and katydids and things o>IU Jes* clubs in and sings and sings Their ding-dangdest! Stock s all fed, And Pap s washed his feet fer bed; Mother and the girls all down At the milk-shed, foolin roun No wunder at I git blue, And lite out and so would you ! I cain t stay aroun no place Whur they hain t no livin face : Crost the fields and thue the gaps Of the hills they s friends, perhaps, Waitin somers, at kin be Kind o comfertin to me! Neighbers all is plenty good, Scattered thue this neighberhood ; . ;- :i [IsJJiTi? // ".-* f-3. I *<;! // 22 3 THE HOOSIER BOOK Yit, of all, I like to jes Drap in on the Wigginses. Old man, and old lady too, Tear-like, makes so much o you Least, they ve allus pampered me Like one of the fambily. The boys, too, s all thataway Want you jes to come and stay ; Price, and Chape, and Mandaville, Poke, Chasteen, and "Catfish Bill" Poke s the runt of all the rest, But he s jes the beatin est Little schemer, fer fourteen, Anybody ever seen ! "Like his namesake," old man claims, "Jeems K. Poke, the first o names ! Full o tricks and jokes and you Never know what Poke s go do !" Genius, too, that-air boy is, With them awk ard hands o his : Gits this blame pokeberry-juice, Er some stuff, fer ink and goose- Quill pen-p ints: And then he ll draw Dogdest pictures yevver saw ! Jes make deers and eagles good As a writin teacher could ! Then they s two twin boys they ve riz Of old Coonrod Wigginses At s deceastand glad of it, Cause his widder s livin yit! Course the boys is mostly jes Why I go to Wigginses . 224 THE HOOSIER BOOK Though Mclvincy, sometimes, she Gits her slate and algebry And jes sets there cipher n thue Sums old Ray hisse f cain t do ! Jes sets there, and tilts her chair Forreds tel, pear-like, her hair Jes spills in her lap and then She jes dips it up again With her hands, as white, I swan, As the apern she s got on! Talk o hospitality ! Go to Wigginses with me Overhet, or froze plum thue, You ll find welcome waitin you : Th ow out yer tobacker fore You set foot acrost that floor, "Got to eat whatever s set Got to drink whatever s wet !" Old man s sentimuns them s his And means jes the best they is! Then he lights his pipe ; and she, The old lady, presen ly She lights hern ; and Chape and Poke.- I hain t got none, ner don t smoke, (In the crick afore their door Sort o so s at I d be shore Drownded mine one night and says "I won t smoke at Wigginses !") Price he s mostly talkin bout Politics, and "thieves turned out"- 225 THE HOOSIER BOOK What he s go to be, ef he Ever "gits there" and "we ll see!" Poke he lows they s blame few men Go to hold their breath tel then ! Then Melviney smiles, as she Goes on with her algebry, And the clouds clear, and the room s Sweeter n crabapple-blooms ! (That Melviney, she s got some Most surprisin ways, i gum ! Don t pear-like she ever says Nothin , yit you ll listen jes Like she was a-talkin , and Half-way seem to understand, But not quite, Poke does, I know, Cause he good as told me so, Poke s her f avo-rite ; and he That is, confidentially He s my favo-rite and I Got my whurfore and my why!) lg r -{9ffo i?3(? yrtt YJ[ intern ImA I hain t never be n no hand Much at talkin , understand, But they s thoughts o mine at s jes Jealous o them Wigginses ! Gift o talkin s what they got, Whuther they want to er not. F r instunce, start the old man on Huritin -scrapes, fore game was gone, Way back in the Forties, when Bears stold pigs right out the pen, THE HOOSIER BOOK Er went waltzin crost the farm With a beehive on their arm ! And sir, ping! the old man s gun Has plumped over many a one, Firin at him from afore That-air very cabin-door! Y es an d painters, prowlin bout, Allus darkest nights. Lay out Clost yer cattle. Great, big red Eyes a-blazin in their head, Glitter n long the .timber-line Shine out some, and then un-skinc, And shine back. Then, stiddy ! whizz I N there yer Mr. Painter is With a hole bored spang between Them-air eyes! . . . Er start Chasteen, Say, on blooded racin -stock, Ef you want to hear him talk; Er tobacker how to raise, Store, and k-yore it, so s she pays. . . . The old lady and she ll cote Scriptur* tel she ll git yer vote ! Prove to you at wrong is right, Jes as plain as black is white : Prove when you re asleep in bed You re a-standin on yer head, And yer train at s going West, S goin East its level best; And when bees dies, it s their wings Wears out And a thousand things! And the boys is "chips," you know, "Off the old block" So I go 227 THE HOOSIER BOOK To the Wigginses , cause jes Cause I like the Wigginses Even ef Melviney she Hardly pears to notice me ! , . 5-io ifc mgiil fniii js nhrf Rid to Chinkypin this week Yisterd y. No snow to speak Of, and didn t have no sleigh Anyhow ; so, as I say, I rid in and froze one ear And both heels aud I don t keer ! "Mother and the girls kin jes Bother bout their Chris mases Next time fer their sc vs, i jack!" Thinks-says-I, a-startin back, Whole durn meal-bag full of things Wropped in paper-sacks, and strings Liable to snap their holt Jes at any little jolt! That in front o me, and wind With nicks in it, at jes skinned Me alive ! I m here to say Nine mile hossback thataway Would a walked my log ! But, as Somepin allus comes to pass, As I topped old Guthrie s hill, Saw a buggy, front the Still, P inted home ards, and a thin Little chap jes climbin in. Six more minutes I were there On the groun s ! And course it were- 03 I o "afooM Mo arlj tlO" 228 THE HOOSIER BOOK It were little Poke and he Nearly fainted to see me! "You be n in to Chinky, too ?" "Yes; and go ride back with you," I-says-I. He he pped me find Room fer my things in behind Stript my boss s reins down, and Putt his mitt on the right hand So s to lead "Pile in !" says he, "But you ve struck pore company!" Noticed he was pale looked sick, Kind o like, and had a quick Way o flickin them-air eyes O his roun at didn t size Up right with his usual style S I, "You well?" He tried to smile, But his chin shuck and tears come. "I ve run Viney way from home I" Don t know jes what all occurred Next ten seconds Nary word, But my heart jes drapt, stobbed thue, And whirlt over and come to. Wrenched a big quart-bottle from That fool-boy! and cut my thumb On his little fiste-teeth helt Him snug in one arm, and felt That-air little heart o his Churn the blood o Wigginses Into that old bead at spun Roun her, spilt at Lexington ! 229 THE HOOSIER BOOK His k niptions, like enough, He pped us both, though it was rough Rough on him, and rougher on Me when last his nerve was gone, And he laid there still, his face Fishin fer some hidin -place Jes a leetle lower down In my breast than he d yit f oun ! Last I kind o soothed him, so s He could talk. And what you s pose Them-air revelations of Poke s was? . . . He d be n writin love- Letters to Melviney, and Givin her to understand They was from "a young man who Loved her," and "the violet s blue N sugar s sweet" and Lord knows what ! Tel, peared-like, Melviney got S intended in "the young Man," Poke he says, at she brung A answer onc t fer him to take, Statin "she d die fer his sake," And writ fifty x s "fer Love-kisses fer him from her !" . . . I was standin in the road By the buggy, all I knowed When Poke got that fur. "That s why," Poke says, "I fessed up the lie Had to cause I see," says he, " Viney was in airnest she Cried, too, when I told her. Then She swore me, and smiled again, 230 THE HOOSIER BOOK And got Pap and Mother to Let me hitch and drive her thue Into Chinkypin, to be At Aunt Rindy s Chris mas-tree That s to-night." Says I, "Poke durn Your lyin soul! s that beau o hern That she loves Does he live in That hellhole o Chinkypin?" "No," says Poke, "er Viney would Went some other neighberhood." "Who is the blame whelp ?" says I. "Promised Viney, hope I d die Ef I ever told !" says Poke, Pittiful and jes heart-broke " Sides that s why she left the place, She cain t look him in the face Now no more on earth ! she says." And the child broke down and jes Sobbed ! . . . Says I, "Poke, I p tend T be your friend, and your Pap s friend, And your Mother s friend, and all The boys 1 friend, little, large and small The zvhole fambily s friend and you Know that means Melviney, too. Now you hursh yer troublin ! I m Go to he p friends ever time On y in this case, you got To he p me and, like as not, I kin he p Melviney then, And we ll have her home again. And now, Poke, with your consent, I m go go to that-air gent 231 THE HOOSIER BOOK She s in love with, and confer With him on his views o her. Blast him! give the man some show. Who is he? I m go to know!" Somepin struck the little chap Funny, peared-like. Give a slap On his leg laughed thue the dew In his eyes, and says: "It s you!" Yes, and cordin to the last Love-letters of ours at passed Thue his hands we was to be Married Chris mas. "Gee-mun-nee / Poke," says I, it s suddentyit We kin make it! You re to git Up to-morry, say, bout three Tell your folks you re go with me: We ll hitch up, and jes drive in N take the town o Chinkypin !" ffr> lirtte ,f>rr>hl iVtU\P. nmou -hrrA 126 Old Winters on the Farm I HAVE jest about decided It ud keep a town-boy hoppin Per to work all winter, choppin Per a old fireplace, like 7 did ! Lawz! them old times wuz contrairy! Blame backbone o winter, peared-like Wouldn t break ! and I wuz skeerd-like Clean on into Feb uary! 232 THE HOOSIER BOOK Nothin ever made me madder Than fer Pap to stomp in, layin On a extra fore-stick, sayin "Groun -hog s out and seed his shadder !" 127 The Twins YVvV)- A \iuii <y\)\K irA-ul ONE S the pictur of his Pa, And the other of her Ma Jes the bossest pair o babies at a mortal ever saw ! And we love em as the bees Loves the blossoms on the trees, A-ridin and a-rompin in the breeze ! One s got her Mammy s eyes Soft and blue as Apurl-skies With the same sort of a smile f like Yes, and mouth about her size, Dimples, too, in cheek and chin, At my lips jes wallers in, A-goin to work, er gittin home ag in. qj; r<:=ffoo*ttPFr}^or{} ! $:w \ hnA And the other Well, they say That he s got his Daddy s way O bein ruther soberfied, er ruther extry gay,- That he either cries his best, Er he laughs his howlin est Like all he lacked was buttons and a vest! 233 THE HOOSIER BOOK Look at her! and look at him! Talk about yer "Cheru-frtwt/" Roll em up in dreams together, rosy arm and chubby limb! O we love em as the bees Loves the blossoms on the trees, A-ridin and a-rompin in the breeze! 128 John Alden and Pcrdlly WE got up a Christmas-doin s Las Christmas Eve- Kind o dimonstration At I railly believe Give more satisfaction Take it up and down Than ary intertainment Ever come to town! Railly was a theater That s what it was, But, bein in the church, you know, We had a "Santy Claus"- So s to git the old folks To patternize, you see, And back the institootion up Kind o morally. School-teacher writ the thing (Was a friend o mine) Got it out o Longfeller s Pome "Evangeline" 234 THE HOOSIER BOOK Er somers bout the Purituns. Anyway, the part "John Alden" fell to me And learnt it all by heart ! Claircy was "Percilly" (School-teacher lowed Me and her could act them two Best of all the crowd) Then blame ef he didn t Git her Pap, i jing! To take the part o "Santy Claus" To wind up the thing. Law ! the fun o practisun ! Was a week er two Me and Claircy didn t have Nothin else to do ! Kep us jes a-meetin round, Kind o here and there, Ever night rehearsin -like, And gaddin ever where! Game was wo th the candle, though !- Christmas Eve at last Rolled around. And tendance jes Couldn t been su passed! Neighbers from the country Come from Clay and Rush Yes, and crost the county-line Clean from Puckerbrush! 235 THE HOOSIER BOOK Meetm -house jes trimbled As "Old Santy" went Round amongst the chiklern, With their pepperment And sassafrac and wintergreen Candy, and "a ball O popcorn," the preacher nounced, "Free f er each and all !" School-teacher suddently Whispered in my ear, "Guess I got you: Christmas-gift! Christmas is here!" I give him a gold pen, And case to hold the thing. And Claircy whispered "Christmas-gift! And I give her a ring. ; _ : T/- : f) o + fvto. V flJO/^ "And now," says I, "jes watch me "Christmas-gift," says I, "I m a-goin to git one Santy s comin by!" Then I rech and grabbed him : And, as you ll infer, Course I got the old man s, And he gimme her! 236 THE HOOSIER BOOK Some Scattering Remarks of Bub s WUNST I tooked our pepper-box lid An cut little pie-dough biscuits, I did, An cooked em on our stove one day When our hired girl she said I may. Honey s the goodest thing Oo-ooh! And blackburry-pies is goodest, too ! But wite hot biscuits, ist soakin -wet Wiv tree-mulassus, is goodest yet! Miss Maimie she s my Ma s friend, an* She s purtiest girl in all the Ian ! An sweetest smile an voice an face An* eyes ist looks like p serves tas e I I ruther go to the Circus-show; But, cause my parunts told me so, I ruther go to the Sund y-school, Cause there I learn the goldun rule. Say, Pa, what is the goldun rule At s allus at the Sund y-school? 237 THE HOOSIER BOOK jjo The Rivals; or the Showman s Ruse A Tragi-Comedy, in One Act PERSONS REPRESENTED BILLY MILLER ) HM. r-- i The Rivals JOHNNY WILLIAMS ) TOMMY WELLS Conspirator TIME Noon. SCENE Country Town Rear view of the Miller Mansion, showing Barn, with practical loft- window opening on alley-way, with colored-crayon poster beneath, announcing: "BILLY MILLER S Big Show and Monstur Circus and Equareum ! A shour- bath fer Each and All fer 20 pins. This Afternoon! Don t fer git the Date!" Enter TOMMY WELLS and JOHNNY WILLIAMS, who gaze a while at poster, TOMMY secretly smiling and winking at BILLY MILLER, con cealed at loft-window above. or Q-g v.m\vn I TOMMY [to JOHNNY] Guess at Billy hain t got back, Can t see nothin through the crack Can t hear nothin needier No ! . . . Thinks he s got the dandy show, Don t he? JOHNNY [scornfully] Course! but what / care? He hain t got no show in there ! What s he got in there but that Old hen, cooped up with a cat 238 THE HOOSIER BOOK An a turkle, an that thing At he calls his "circus-ring"? "What a circus-ring!" I d quit! Bet mine s twic t as big as it! YVIVIHoT. TOMMY Yes, but you got no machine Wat you bathe with, painted green,. With a string to work it, guess ! m 1 l f zlfUfb-sd 9m no nv/oCl JOHNNY [contemptuously] Folks don t bathe in circuses! Ladies comes to mine, you bet ! 1 got seats where girls can set; An a dressin -room, an all, Fixed up in my pony s stall Yes, an I got carpet, too, Fer the tumblers, and a blue Center-pole ! tewi sin fcMla jVJoi, wl *o VA TOMMY Well, Billy, he s Got a tight-rope an trapeze, An a hoop at he jumps through TJ A C. 4.\ Head-first! JOHNNY Well, what s that to do Lightin on a pile o hay? Hain t no actin thataway ! iVi , M n \ T ^ v.Tii3 ytVH] TOMMY Don t care what you say, he draws Bigger crowds than you do, cause 239 THE HOOSIER BOOK Sence he started up, I know All the fellers says his show Is the best-un ! JOHNNY Yes, an he Better not tell things on me! His old circus hain t no good ! Cause he s got the neighborhood Down on me he thinks at I m Coin* to stand it all the time ; Thinks ist cause my Pa don t low Me to fight, he s got me now, An* can say I lie, an call Me ist anything at all ! Billy Miller thinks I am Feard to say at he says "dam" Yes, and worser ones ! and I m Coin to tell his folks sometime! An* ef he don t shet his head --YMI/.O L I ll tell worse an that he said When he fighted Willie King An got licked like ever thing ! Billy Miller better shin Down his Daddy s lane ag in, Like a cowardy-calf, an climb In fer home another time! Better* [Here BILLY leaps down from the loft upon his unsus pecting victim; and two minutes later, JOHNNY, with the half of a straw hat, a bleeding nose, and a straight rent across one trousers-knee, makes his inglorious exit.] 240 ARMAZINDY Armazindy A RMAZINDY; fambily name \ Ballenger, you ll find the same, As her daddy answered it, In the old War-rickords yit, And, like him, she s airnt the good Will o all the neighberhood. Name ain t down in History, But, i jucks! it ort to be! Folks is got respec fer her Armazindy Ballenger! Specially the ones at knows Fac s o how her story goes From the start: Her father blowed Up eternally furloughed When the old "Sultana" bu st, And sich men wuz needed wusst. Armazindy, bout fourteen- Year-old then and thin and lean As a killdee, but my la! Blamedest nerve you ever saw ! The girl s mother d allus be n Sickly wuz consumpted when Word came bout her husband. So Folks perdicted she d soon go 241 THE HOOSIER BOOK (Kind o grief 7 understand, Losin my companion, and Still a widower and still Hinted at, like neighbers will!) So, app inted, as folks said, Ballenger a-bein* dead, Widder, peared-like, gradjully, Jes grieved after him tel she Died, nex Aprile wuz a year, And, in Armazindy s keer Leavin the two twins, as well As her pore old miz able Old-maid aunty at had be n Struck with palsy, and wuz then Jes a he pless charge on her Armazindy Ballenger. Jevver watch a primrose bout Minute fore it blossoms out Kind o loosen-like, and blow Up its muscles, don t you know, And, all suddent, bu st and bloon? Out life-size? Well, I persume At s the only measure I Kin size Armazindy by! Jes a child, one minute, nex , Woman-grown, in all respec s And intents and purposuz At s what Armazindy wuz! Jes a child, I tell ye ! Yit She made things git up and git 242 THE HOOSIER BOOK Round that little farm o hern I Shouldered all the whole concern ; Feed the stock, and milk the cows Run the farm and run the house! Only thing she didn t do Wuz to plow and harvest too But the house and childern took Lots o keer and had to look After her old fittined Grand-aunt. Lord ! ye could a* cried ? Seein Armazindy smile, Peared-like, sweeter all the while ! And I ve heerd her laugh and say : "Jes afore Pap marched away, He says I depend on you, Armazindy, come what may You must be a Soldier, too ! " Neighbers, from the fust, ud come And she d let em help her some, "Thanky, ma am !" and "Thanky, sir !" But no charity fer her! "She could raise the means to pay Fer her farm-hands ever day Sich wuz needed!" And she could In cash-money jes as good As farm produc s ever brung Their perducer, old er young ! So folks humored her and smiled, And at last wuz rickonciled Fef to let her have her own Way about it. But a-goin 243 THE HOOSIER BOOK Past to town, they d stop and see "Armazindy s fambily," As they d allus laugh and say, And look sorry right away, Thinkin of her Pap, and how He d indorse his "Soldier" now! Course she couldn t never be Much in young-folks company Plenty of in-vites to go, But das t leave the house, you know Less n Sund ys sometimes, when Some old Granny d come and ten Things, while Armazindy has Got away fer Church er "Class." Most the youngsters liked her and Twuzn t hard to understand, Fer, by time she wuz sixteen, Purtier girl you never seen Ceptin she lacked .schoolin , ner Couldn t rag out stylisher Like some neighber-girls, ner thumb On their blame melodium, Whilse their pore old mothers sloshed Round the old back-porch and washed Their clothes fer em rubbed and scrubbed Fer girls d ort to jes be n clubbed ! And jes sich a girl wuz Jule Reddinhouse. She d be n to school At New Thessaly, i gum ! Fool before, but that he pped some 244 THE HOOSIER BOOK Stablished-like more confidence At she never had no sense. But she wuz a cunnin , sly, Meek and lowly sort o lie, At men-folks like me and you B lieves jes cause we ortn t to. Jes as purty as a snake, And as pizen mercy sake ! Well, about them times it wuz, Young Sol Stephens th ashed f er us r , And we sent him over to Armazindy s place to do Her work f er her. And-sir ! Well- Mighty little else to tell, Sol he fell in love with her Armazindy Ballenger! Bless ye! LI of all the love At I ve ever yit knowed of, That-air case o theirn beat all ! W y, she worshiped him ! And Sol, Peared-like could a kissed the sod (Sayin is) where that girl trod! Went to town, she did, and bought Lot o things at neighbers thought Mighty strange fer her to buy, Raal chintz dress-goods and way high !- Cut long in the skyrt, also Gaiter-pair o shoes, you know; And lace collar ; yes, and fine Stylish hat, with ivy-vine And red ribbons, and these- ere Artificial flowers and queer 245 THE HOOSIER BOOK Little beads and spangles, and Oysturch-f eathers round the band ! Wore em, Sund ys, fer a while Kind o went to Church in style, Sol and Armazindy ! Tel It was noised round purty well They wuz promised. And they wuz Sich news travels well it does ! Pity at that did! Fer jes That-air fac and nothin less Must a putt it in the mind O Jule Reddinhouse to find Out some dratted way to hatch Out some plan to break the match Cause she done it ! Howl they s nonr- Knows adzac ly what she done ; Some claims she writ letters to Sol s folks, up nigh Pleasant View Somers and described, you see, "Armazindy s fambily" Hintin "ef Sol married her, He d jes be pervidin fer Them-air twins o hern, and old Palsied aunt at couldn t hold Spoon to mouth, and layin near Bedrid on to eighteen year, And still likely, pearantly, To live out the century !" Well whatever plan Jule laid Out to reach the p int she made, It wuz desper t And she won, Finully, by marryun 246 THE HOOSIER BOOK Sol herse f e-lopin , too, With him, like she had to do, Cause her folks ud allus swore "Jule should never marry porel" This-here part the story I Allus haf to hurry by, Way at Armazindy jes Drapped back in her linsey dress, And grabbed holt her loom, and shet Her jaws square. And ef she fret Any bout it never peared Sign at neighbers seed er heerd; Most folks liked her all the more I know I did certain-shore ! (Course I d knowed her Pap, and what Stock she come of. Yes, and thought, And think yit, no man on earth S worth as much as that girl s worth!) As fer Jule and Sol, they had Their sheer ! less o good than bad ! Her folks let her go. They said, "Spite o them she d made her bed And must sleep in it !" But she, Peared-like, didn t sleep so free As she ust to ner so late, Ner so fine, I m here to state ! Sol wuz pore, of course, and she Wuzn t ust to poverty Ner she didn t pear to jes Filiate with lonesomeness, 247 THE HOOSIER BOOK Cause Sol he wuz off and out With his th asher nigh about Half the time ; er, season done, He d be off mi-anderun Round the country, here and there, Swoppin hosses. Well, that-air Kind o livin didn t suit Jule a bit ! and then, to boot, She had now the keer o two Her own childern and to do Her own work and cookin yes, And sometimes fer hands, I guess, Well as fambily of her own. Cut her pride clean to the bone ! So how could the whole thing end? She set down, one night, and penned A short note, like at she sewed On the childern s blanket blowed Out the candle pulled the door To close after her and, shore- Footed as a cat is, dumb In a rigg there and left home, With a man a-drivin who "Loved her ever fond and true," As her note went on to say, When Sol read the thing next day. Y j-HA 02 *i9fi -ot i?fi si f? s A Raaly didn t pear to be Extry waste o sympathy Over Sol pore feller! Yit, Sake o them-air little bit 248 THE HOOSIER BOOK O two orphants as you might Call em then, by law and right, Sol s old friends wuz sorry, and Tried to hold him out their hand Same as allus : But he d flinch Tel, jes peared-like, inch by inch, He let all holts go ; and so Took to drinkin , don t you know, Tel, to make a long tale short, He wuz fuller than he ort To a be n, at work one day Bout his th asher, and give way, Kind o like and fell and ketched In the beltin . . . . Rid and fetched Armazindy to him. He Begged me to. But time at she Reached his side, he smiled and tried To speak Couldn t. So he died. . . Hands all turned and left her there And went somers else jow^where. Last, she called us back in clear Voice as man ll ever hear Clear and stiddy, peared to me, As her old Pap s ust to be. Give us orders what to do Bout the body he pped us, too. So it wuz, Sol Stephens passed In Armazindy s hands at last. More n that, she claimed at she Had consent from him to be 249 THE HOOSIER BOOK Mother to his childern now Thout no parents anyhow. Yes-sir! and she s got em, too, Folks saw nothin else ud do So they let her have her way Like she s doin yit to-day ! Years now, I ve be n coaxin her Armazindy Ballenger To in-large her fambily Jes one more by takin me Which I m feared she never will, Though I m lectioneerin still. 132 Writln Back to the Home-Folks MY dear old friends It jes beats all, The way you write a letter So s ever last line beats the first, And ever next-un s better ! W y ever fool-thing you putt down You make so mterest m , A feller, readin of em all, Can t tell which is the best-un. It s all so comfortin and good, Pears-like I almost hear ye And git more sociabler, you know, And hitch my cheer up near ye 250 THE HOOSIER BOOK And jes smile on ye like the sun Acrosst the whole per-rairies In Aprile when the thaw s begun And country couples marries. It s all so good-old-fashioned like To talk jes like we re thinkin , Without no hidin back o fans And giggle-un and winkin , Ner sizin how each other s dressed Like some is allus doin "Is Marthy Ellen s basque be n turned Er shore-enough a new-un !" Er "ef Steve s city-friend hain t jes A leetle kind o sort o " Er "wears them-air blame* eye-glasses Jes cause he hadn t ort to?" And so straight on, dad-libitum, Tel all of us feels, someway, Jes like our "comp ny" wuz the best When we git up to come way ! That s why I like old friends like you ? - Jes cause you re so abidin . Ef I was built to live "jer kteps," My principul residin Would be amongst the folks at kep Me allus thinkin of em And sort o eechin all the time To tell em how I love em. 251 THE HOOSIER BOOK Sich folks, you know, I jes love so I wouldn t live without em, Er couldn t even drap asleep But what I dreamp* about em, And ef we minded God, I guess We d all love one another Jes like one famb ly, me and Pap And Madaline and Mother. I 33 The Muskingum Valley THE Muskingum Valley How longin the gaze A feller throws back on its long summer days, When the smiles of its blossoms and my smiles wuz one- And-the-same, from the rise to the set o the sun : Wher the hills sloped as soft as the dawn down to noon, And the river run by like an old fiddle-tune, And the hours glided past as the bubbles ud glide, All so loaferin -like, long the path o the tide. In the Muskingum Valley it peared like the skies Looked lovin on me as my own mother s eyes, While the laughin -sad song of the stream seemed to be Like a lullaby angels was wastin on me Tel, swimmin the air, like the gossamer s thread, Twixt the blue underneath and the blue overhead, My thoughts went astray in that so-to-speak realm Wher Sleep bared her breast as a piller fer them. 252 THE HOOSIER BOOK In the Muskingum Valley, though far, far a-way, I know that the winter is bleak there to-day No bloom ner perfume on the brambles er trees Wher the buds used to bloom, now the icicles freeze. That the grass is all hid long the side of the road Wher the deep snow has drifted and shifted and blowed And I feel in my life the same changes is there, The frost in my heart, and the snow in my hair. But, Muskingum Valley ! my memory sees Not the white on the ground, but the green in the trees Not the froze -over gorge, but the current, as clear And warm as the drop that has jes trickled here; Not the choked-up ravine, and the hills topped with snow, But the grass and the blossoms I knowed long ago When my little bare feet wundered down wher the stream In the Muskingum Valley flowed on like a dream. 134 "Plow Did You Rest, Last Night?" "T TOW did you rest, last night?" A -L I ve heard my gran pap say Them words a thousand times that s right Jes them words thataway! As punctchul-like as morning dast To ever heave in sight Gran pap ud allus haf to ast "How did you rest, last night?" 253 THE HOOSIER BOOK Us young-uns used to grin, At breakfast, on the sly, And mock the wobble of his chin . -,._,.-, And eyebrows helt so high And kind : "How did you rest, last night? We d mumble and let on Our voices trimbled, and our sight Was dim, and hearin gone. Bad as I used to be, All I m a-wantin is As puore and ca m a sleep fer me And sweet a sleep as his ! And so I pray, on Jedgmcnt Day To wake, and with its light Sec his face dawn, and hear him say "How did you rest, last night?" T 35 Up an ^ Doivn Old Brandy wine UP and down old Brandywine, In the days at s past and gone With a dad-burn hook-and-line And a saplin -pole i swawn ! I ve had more fun, to the square Inch, than ever awvwhere ! Heaven to come can t discount mine, U? and down old Brandywine ! 254 THE HOOSIER BOOK Hain t no sense in wishin yit Wisht to goodness I could jes "Gee" the blame world round and git Back to that old happiness ! Kind o drive back in the shade "The old Covered Bridge" there laid Crosst the crick, and sort o soak My soul over, hub and spoke 1 Honest, now ! it hain t no dream At I m wantin , but the fac s As they wuz ; the same old stream, And the same old times, i jacks! Gimme back my bare feet and Stonebruise too ! And scratched and tanned !- And let hottest dog-days shine Up and down old Brandywine ! In and on betwixt the trees Long the banks, pour down yer noon, Kind o curdled with the breeze And the yallerhammer s tune ; And the smokin , chokin dust O the turnpike at its wusst Saturd ys, say, when it seems Road s jes jammed with country teams! Whilse the old town, fur away Crosst the hazy pastur -land, Dozed-like in the heat o day Peaceful* as a hired hand. 255 THE HOOSIER BOOK Jolt the gravel th ough the floor O the old bridge ! grind and roar With yer blame percession-line Up and down old Brandywine ! Souse me and my new straw-hat Off the foot-log ! what / care? Fist shoved in the crown o that Like the old Clown ust to wear. Wouldn t swop it fer a old Gin-u-wine raal crown o gold ! Keep yer King ef you ll gimme Jes the boy I ust to be ! Spill my fishin -worms ! er steal My best "goggle-eye !" but you Can t lay hands on joys I feel Nibblin like they ust to do ! So, in memory, to-day Same old ripple lips away At my cork and saggin line, Up and down old Brandywine! There the logs is, round the hill, Where "Old Irvin" ust to lift Out sunfish from daylight till Dewfall fore he d leave "The Drift" And give us a chance and then Kind o fish back home again, Ketchin em jes left and right Where ivc hadn t got "a bite" ! 256 THE HOOSIER BOOK Er, way windin out and in, Old path th ough the iurnweeds And dog-fennel to yer chin Then come suddent, th ough the reeds And cattails, smack into where Them-air woods-hogs list to scare Us clean crosst the County-line, Up and down old Brandy wine ! But the dim roar o the dam It ud coax us furder still To rds the old race, slow and ca m, Slidin on to Huston s mill Where, I spect, "the Freeport crowd" Never warmed to us er lowed We wuz quite so overly Welcome as we aimed to be. Still it peared-like ever thing Fur away from home as there Had more relish-like, i jing! Fish in stream, er bird in air ! O them rich old bottom-lands, Past where Cowden s Schoolhouse stands ! Wbrtcrmelons master-mine! Up and down old Brandywine ! TorJ-teriv rn f ! j,Tn - !>-?>! ?;r?A And sich pop-paws ! Lumps o raw Gold and green, jes oozy th ough With ripe yaller like you ve saw Custard-pie with no crust to : ,!ood:>a Is ^ a !>iy, r rtrf 1 vn-T nl 257 THE HOOSIER BOOK And jes gorges o wild plums, Till a feller d suck his thumbs Clean up to his elbows! My! Me some more cr lem me die! Up and down old Brandywine ! Stripe me with pokeberry-juice! Flick me with a pizen-vine And yell "Yip!" and lem me loose! Old now as I then wuz young, F I could sing as I have sung, Song ud surety ring dee-vine Up and down old Brandywine! 136 My Henry HE S jes a great, big, awk ard, hulkin Feller, humped, and sort o sulkin Like, and ruther still-appearin Kind-as-ef he wuzn t keerin Whether school helt out er not That s my Henry, to a dot ! Allus kind o liked him whether Childern, er growed-up together! Fifteen year ago and better, Fore he ever knowed a letter, Run acrosst the little fool In my Primer-class at school. 258 THE HOOSIER BOOK When the Teacher wuzn t lookin He d be th owin wads ; er crookin Pins ; er sprinklin pepper, more n Likely, on the stove ; er borin Gimlet-holes up thue his desk Nothin that boy wouldn t reskl But, somehow, as I was goin On to say, he seemed so knowin , Other ways, and cute and cunnin Allus wuz a notion runnin Thue my giddy, fool-head he Jes had be n cut out f er me ! Don t go much on prophesyin But last night whilse I wuz fryin Supper, with that man a-pitchin Little Marthy round the kitchen, Think-says-I, "Them baby s eyes Is my Henry s, jes p cise!" 137 When Lide Married Him WHEN Lide married him w y, she had to jes dee-fy The whole popilation ! But she never bat an eye ! Her parents begged, and threatened she must give him up that he Wuz jes "a common drunkard!" And he wuz, appear- antly. Swore they d chase him off the place Ef he ever showed his face 259 THE HOOSIER BOOK Long after she d eloped with him and married him fer shore ! When Lide married him, it wuz "Katy, bar the door!" When Lide married him Well! she had to go and be A hired girl in town somewheres while he tromped round to see What he could git that he could do, you might say, jes sawed wood From door to door ! that s what he done cause that wuz best he could ! And the strangest thing, i jing! Wuz, he didn t drink a thing, But jes got down to bizness, like he someway wanted to, When Lide married him, like they warned her not to do ! When Lide married him er, ruther had be n married A little up ards of a year some feller come and carried That hired girl away with him a ruther stylish feller In a bran-new green spring-wagon, with the wheels striped red and yeller : And he whispered, as they driv To rds the country, "Now we ll live! f - And somepin else she laughed to hear, though both her eyes wuz dim, Bout "trustin Love and Heav n above, sence Lide married vsV Jfirfj : ffOfmrKO &" V>t *fjYv .yltmj 260 THE HOOSIER BOOK 138 "Ringworm Frank" JEST Frank Reed s his real name though Boys all calls him "Ringworm Frank," Cause he allus runs round so. No man can t tell where to bank Frank ll be, Next you see Er hear of him ! Drat his melts ! That man s allus somers else! We re old pards. But Frank he jest Can t stay still ! Wuz frosper n here, But lit out on furder West Somers on a ranch, last year : Never heard Nary a word How he liked it, tel to-day, Got this card, reads thisaway : "Dad-burn climate out here makes Me homesick all Winter long, And when Spring-time comes, it takes Two pee-wees to sing one song, One sing pee And the other one wee! Stay right where you air, old pard. Wisht 7 wuz this postal card !" 261 THE HOOSIER BOOK 139 The Youthful Patriot OWHAT did the little boy do At nobody wanted him to ? Didn t do nothin but romp an run, An whoop an holler an bang his gun An bu st fire-crackers, an ist have fun- An at s all the little boy done ! 140 Folks at Lonesomeville PORE-Folks lives at Lonesomeville Lawzy ! but they re pore ! Houses with no winders in, And hardly any door : Chimbly all tore down, and no Smoke in that at all Ist a stovepipe through a hole In the kitchen wall ! Pump at s got no handle on ; And no woodshed And, wooh! Mighty cold there, choppin wood, Like pore-folks has to do ! Winter-time, and snow and sleet Ist fairly fit to kill ! Hope to goodness Santy Claus Goes to Lonesomeville! THE HOOSIER BOOK 141 The Three Jolly Hunters THERE were three jolly hunters; And a-hunting they did go, With a spaniel-dog, and a pointer-dog, And a setter-dog also. Looky there! And they hunted and they hal-looed ; And the first thing they did find Was a dingling-dangling hornet s-nest A-swinging in the wind. Looky there! And the first one said "What is it?" Said the next, "We ll punch and see" : And the next one said, a mile from there,, "I wish we d let it be !" Looky there! And they hunted and they hal-looed ; And the next thing they did raise Was a bobbin bunny cottontail That vanished from their gaze. Looky there! One said it was a hot baseball, Zippt through the brambly thatch, But the others said twas a note by post Or a telegraph-despatch. Looky there! 263 THE HOOSIER BOOK So they hunted and they hal-looed ; And the next thing they did sight Was a great big bulldog chasing them, And a farmer, hollerin "Skite!" Looky there! And the first one said, "Hi-jinktum !" And the next, "Hi-jinktum-jee!" And the last one said, "Them very words Had just occurred to me !" Looky there! 142 A Few of the Bird-Family THE Old Bob-white, and Chipbird; The Flicker, and Chewink, And little hopty-skip bird Along the river-brink. The Blackbird, and Snowbird, The Chicken-hawk, and Crane; The glossy old black Crow-bird, And Buzzard down the lane. The Yellowbird, and Redbird, The Tomtit, and the Cat ; The Thrush, and that Redhead-bird The rest s all pickin at ! 264 THE HOOSIER BOOK The Jay-bird, and the Bluebird, The Sapsuck, and the Wren The Cockadoodle-doo-bird, And our old Settm -hen ! 143 The Toy Penny-Dog MA put my Penny-Dog Safe on the shelf, And left no one home but him, Me and myself ; So I clumbed a big chair I pushed to the wall But the Toy Penny-Dog Ain t there at all ! I went back to Dolly And she uz gone too, And little Switch uz layin there ; And Ma says "Boo!" And there she wuz a-peepin Through the front-room door : And I ain t goin* to be a bad Little girl no more! Inv/of: riorfw v/mul 265 HOME-FOLKS 144 Home-Folks HOME-FOLKS ! Well, that-air name, to me, Sounds jis the same as poetry That is, ef poetry is jis As sweet as I ve hearn tell it is I ( rnhl jnd oinoji 3;to oa jlol bnA Home-Folks they re jis the same as kin All brung up, same as we have bin, Without no overpowerin sense Of their oncommon consequence I They ve bin to school, but not to git The habit fastened on em yit So as to ever interfere With other work at s waitin here: Home-Folks has crops to plant and plow, Er lives in town and keeps a cow ; But whether country-jakes er town-, They know when eggs is up er down ! La ! can t you spot em when you meet Em anywheres in field er street? And can t you see their faces, bright As circus-day, heave into sight? 266 THE HOOSIER BOOK And can t you hear their "Howdy !" clear As a brook s chuckle to the ear, And allus find their laughin eyes As fresh and clear as morning skies ? !ii \& moilod arfr-te - o : < iDai ^aui.blouo^ And can t you when the} Ve gone away Jis feel em shakin hands, all day? And feel, too, you ve bin higher raised By sich a meetin ? God be praised ! Oh, Home-Folks ! you re the best of all At ranges this terreschul ball, But, north er south, er east er west, It s home is where you re at your best. jh( ) O .o:; iUoy rftiw ,3/>}?/rbfile Viiy^2 1<> i noCT It s home it s home your faces shine, In-nunder your own fig and vine Your fambly and your neighbers bout Ye, and the latch-string hangin out Home-Folks at home, I know o one Old feller now at hain t got none. Invite him he may hold back some But you invite him, and he ll come. Mister Hop-Toad HOWDY, Mister Hop-Toad ! Glad to see you out ! Bin a month o Sund ys sence I seen you hereabout. Kind o bin a-layin in, from the frost and snow? Good to see you out ag in, it s bin so long ago ! 267 THE HOOSIER BOOK Plows like slicin cheese, and sod s loppin over even; Loam s like gingerbread, and clod s softer n deceivin Mister Hop-Toad, honest-true Spring-time don t you love it? You old rusty rascal you, at the bottom of it ! Oh ! oh ! oh ! I grabs up my old hoe ; But I sees you, And s l, "Ooh-ooh! Howdy, Mister Hop-Toad! How-dee-do!" Make yotirse f more comfo bler square round at your ease Don t set saggin slanchwise, with your nose below your knees. Swell that fat old throat o yourn and lemme see you swaller ; Straighten up and h ist your head ! You don t owe a dollar ! Hain t no mor gage on your land ner no taxes, nuther ; You don t haf to work no roads, even ef you d ruther. F I was you, and fixed like you, I railly wouldn t keer To swop f er life and hop right in the presidential cheer ! Oh ! oh ! oh ! I hauls back my old hoe ; But I sees you, And s I, "Ooh-ooh ! Howdy, Mister Hop-Toad ! How-dee-do !" u 871 ,m 3fi luo HOY j^: c.l h 268 THE HOOSIER BOOK Long about next Aprile, hoppin down the furry, Won t you mind I ast you what peared to be the hurry ? Won t you mind I hooked my hoe and hauled you back and smiled ? W y, bless you, Mister Hop-Toad, I love you like a child ! S pose I d want to flict you any more n what you air? S pose I think you got no rights cept the warts you wear ? Hulk, sulk, and blink away, you old bloat-eyed rowdy! Hain t you got a word to say? Won t you tell me "Howdy"? Oh ! oh ! oh ! I swish round my old hoe ; But I sees you, And s I, "Ooh-ooh ! Howdy, Mister Hop-Toad! How-dee-do!" 146 Uncle Sidney s Logic PA wunst he scold an says to me. "Don t play so much, but try To study more, and nen you ll be A great man, by an by." Nen Uncle Sidney says, "You let Him be a boy an play. The greatest man on earth, I bet, Ud trade with him to-day!" 269 THE HOOSIER BOOK The Schoolboy s Favorite Over the river and through the wood Now Grandmother s cap I spy: Hurrah for the fun! Is the pudding done? Hurrah for the pumpkin-pie! SCHOOL READER. FER any boy at s little as me, Er any little girl, That-un s the goodest poetry-piece In any book in the worl ! An ef grown-peoples wuz little ag in I bet they d say so, too, Ef they d go see their ole Gran ma, Like our Pa lets us do ! Over the river an through the wood Now Gran mother s cap I spy: Hurrah fer the fun! Is the puddin done? Hurrah fer the punkin-pie! An* I ll tell you why at s the goodest piece : Cause it s ist like we go To our Gran ma s, a-visitun there, When our Pa he says so; An* Ma she fixes my little cape-coat An little fuzz-cap; an Pa He tucks me away an yells "Hoo-ray!" An* whacks Ole Gray, an drives the sleigh Fastest you ever saw ! 270 THE HOOSIER BOOK Over the river an through the wood Now Gran mother s cap I spy: Hurrah fer the fun! Is the puddin done? Hurrah fer the punkin-pic! An* Pa ist snuggles me tween his knees An I he p hold the lines, An peek out over the buffalo-robe ; An the wind is.t blows! an the snow ist snows !- An the sun ist shines ! an shines ! An th old horse tosses his head an coughs Th frost back in our face. An* F ruther go to my Gran ma s Than any other place ! Over the river an through the wood Now Gran mothcr s cap I spy: Hurrah fer the fun! Is the puddin done? Hurrah fer the punkin-pie! An all the peoples they is in town Watches us whizzin past To go a-visitun our Gran ma s, Like we all went there last; But they can t go, like ist our folks An* Johnny an Lotty, an three Er four neighber-childerns, an Rober-ut Volney An Charley an Maggy an me! Over the river an through the wood Now Gran mothcr s cap I spy: Hurrah fer the fun! Is the puddin done? Hurrah fer the punkin-pic! 271 THE HOOSIER BOOK 148 The Little Mock-Man E Little Mock-man on the Stairs JL He mocks the lady s horse at rares At bi-sickles an things, He mocks the mens at rides em, too ; An* mocks the Movers, drivin through, An* hollers "Here s the way you do With them-air hitchin -strings !" "Ho! ho!" he ll say, Ole Settlers Day, When they re all jogglin by, "You look like this," He ll say, an twis* His mouth an squint his eye An tend like he wuz beat the bass Drum at both ends an toots and blares Ole dinner-horn an* puffs his face The Little Mock-man on the Stairs ! The Little Mock-man on the Stairs Mocks all the peoples all he cares At passes up an down ! He mocks the chickens round the door, An mocks the girl at scrubs the floor, An mocks the rich, an mocks the pore, An* ever thing in town! "Ho ! ho !" says he, To you er me; 272 THE HOOSIER BOOK An* ef we turns an looks, He s all crosc-eyed An mouth all wide Like Giunts is, in books. "Ho ! ho !" he yells, "look here at me" An rolls his fat eyes roun an glares, "You look like this!" he says, says he The Little Mock-man on the Stairs! The Little Mock The Little Mock The Little Mock-man on the Stairs, He mocks the music-box: an clock, An roller-sofy an the chairs; He mocks his Pa an spec s he wears; He mocks the man at picks the pears An plums an peaches on the shares; He mocks the monkeys an the bears On picture-bills, an rips an tears Em down, an mocks ist all he cares. An EvEKbody EvER wheres! 149 Summer-Time and Winter-Time IN the golden noon-shine, Or in the pink of dawn; In the silver moonshine, Or when the moon is gone ; 273 THE HOOSIER BOOK Open eyes, or drowsy lids, Wake or most asleep, I can hear the katydids, "Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!" Only in the winter-time Do they ever stop, In the chip-and-splinter-time, When the backlogs pop, Then it is, the kettle-lids, While the sparkles leap, Lisp like the katydids, "Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!" 750 My Dancin -Days Is Over WHAT is it in old fiddle-chimes at makes me ketch my breath And ripples up my backbone tel I m tickled most to death ? Kind o like that sweet- sick feelin , in the long sweep of a swing, The first you ever swung in, with yer first sweetheart, i jing! Yer first picnic ycr first ice-cream yer first o ever - thing At happened fore yer dancin -days wuz over ! I never understood it and I s pose I never can, But right in town here, yisterd y, I heerd a pore blind- man 274 THE HOOSIER BOOK A-fiddlin old "Gray Eagle" And-sir\ I jes stopped my load O hay and listened at him yes, and watched the way he "bow d," And back I went, plum forty year , with boys and girls I knowed And loved, long fore my dancin -days wuz over! At high noon in yer city, with yer blame Magnetic-Cars A-hummin and a-screechin past and bands and G. A. R. s A-marchin and fire-ingines. All the noise, the whole street through, Wuz lost on me ! I only heard a whipperwill er two, It peared-like, kind o callin crost the darkness and the dew, Them nights afore my dancin -days wuz over. T uz Chused y-night at Wetherell s, er We n sd y-night at Strawn s, Er Fourth-o -July-night at uther Tomps s house er John s ! With old Lew Church from Sugar Crick, with that old fiddle he Had sawed clean through the Army, from Atlanty to the sea And yit he d fetched her home ag in, so s he could play fer me Onc t more afore my dancin -days wuz over ! The woods at s all be n cut away wuz growin same as then ; The youngsters all wuz boys ag in at s now all oldish men; 275 THE HOOSIER BOOK Ar.d all the girls at then wuz girls I saw em, one and all, As plain as then the middle-sized, the short-and-fat, and tall And peared-like, I danced "Tucker" fer em up and down the wall Jes like afore my dancin -days wuz over ! The facts is, I wuz dazed so at I clean f ergot jes where ( railly wuz, a-blockin streets, and still a-standin there : I heard the />o-leece yellin , but my ears wuz kind o blurred My eyes, too, fer the odds o that, bekase I thought I heard My wife at s dead a-laughin -like, and jokin , word-fer- word Jes like afore her dancin -days wuz over. 151 "Home Ag iri I M a-feelin ruther sad, Fer a father proud and glad As 7 am my only child Home, and all so rickonciled ! Feel so strange-like, and don t know What the mischief ails me so ! Stid o bad, I ort to be Feelin* good pertickerly 2 7 6 THE HOOSIER BOOK Yes, and extry thankful, too, Cause my nearest kith and kin, My Elviry s schoolin s through, And I got her home ag in Home ag in with me! Same as ef her mother d been Livin . I have done my best By the girl, and watchfulest; Nussed her keerful as I could From a baby, day and night, Drawin on the neighberhood And the women-folks as light As needsessity ud low Cept in "teethin ," onc t, and fight Through black-measles. Don t know nov/ How we ever saved the child! Doc he d give her up, and said, As I stood there by the bed Sort o foolin with her hair On the hot, wet pillar there, "Wuz no use !" And at them-air Very words she waked and smiled Yes, and knowed me. And that s where I broke down, and simply jes Bellered like a boy I guess! Women claim I did, but I Allus helt I didn t cry But wuz laughin , and I wuz, Men don t crv like women does ! 277 THE HOOSIER BOOK Well, right then and there I felt T uz her mother s doin s, and, Jes like to mys f, I knelt Whisperin , "I understand." . . . So I ve raised her, you might say, Stric ly in the narrer way At her mother walked therein Not so quite religiously, Yit still strivin -like to do Ever thing a father could Do he knowed the mother would Ef she d lived And now all s through And I got her home ag in Home ag in with me! And I been so lonesome, too, Here o late, especially, "Old Aunt Abigail," you know, Ain t no company; and so Jes the hired hand, you see Jonas like a relative More sence he come here to live With us, nigh ten year ago. Still he don t count much, you know, In the way o company Lonesome, peared-like, most as me 5 So, as 7 say, I been so Special lonesome-like and blue, With Elviry, like she s been, Way so much, last two or three Year But now she s home ag in Home ag in with me ! 278 THE HOOSIER BOOK Driv in fer her yisterday, Me and Jonas gay and spry, We jes* cut up, all the way! Yes, and sung ! tel, blame it ! I Keyed my voice up bout as high As when days at I wuz young "Buckwheat-notes" wuz all they sung. Jonas bantered me, and greed To sing one at town-folks sing Down at Split Stump er High-Low Some new "ballet," said he, at he d Learnt about "The Grape-vine Swing." And when he quit, / begun To chune up my voice and run Through the what s-called "scales" and "dc Sol-me-fa s" I ust to know Then let loose old favorite one, "Hunters o Kentucky!" My! Tel I thought the boy would die! And we both laughed Yes, and still Heerd more laughin , top the hill ; Fer we d missed Elviry s train, And she d lit out crost the fields, Dewdrops dancin at her heels, And cut up old Smoots s lane So s to meet us. And there in Shadder o the chinkypin, With a danglin dogwood-bough Bloomin bove her See her now ! Sunshine sort o flickerin down And a kind o laughin all Round her new red parasol, 279 THE HOOSIER BOOK Tryin to git at her! well like / jumped out and showed em how * Yes, and jes the place to strike That-air mouth o hern as sweet As the blossoms breshed her brow Er sweet-williams round her feet White and blushy, too, as she "Howdied" up to Jonas, and Jieuked her head, and waved her hand. "Hey !" says I, as she bounced in The spring-wagon, reachin back To give me a lift, "whoop-ee!" I-says-ee, "you re home ag in Home ag in with me!" Lord ! how wild she wuz, and glad, Gittin home! and things she had To inquire about, and talk Plowin , plantin , and the stock News o neighberhood ; and how Wuz the Deem-girls doin now, Sence that-air young chicken-hawk They was "tamin " soared away With their settin -hen, one day? (Said she d got Mame s postal-card Bout it, very day at she Started home from Bethany.) How wuz produce eggs, and lard ? Er wuz stores still claimin "hard Times," as usual? And, says she, Trotibled-like, "How s Deedie say? Sence pore child e-loped away 280 THE HOOSIER BOOK And got back, and goin to ply Per school-license by and by And where s Lijy workin at? And how s Aunt and Uncle Jake ? How wuz Old Maje and the cat? And wuz Marthy s baby fat As his Humpty-Dumpty ma? Sweetest thing she ever saw ! Must run crost and see her, too, Soon as she turned in and got Supper fer us smokin -hot And the dishes all wuz through. " Sich a supper ! W y, I set There and et, and et, and et ! Jes et on, tel Jonas he Pushed his chair back, laughed, and says, "I could walk his log!" and we All laughed then, tel Viry she Lit the lamp and I give in ! Riz and kissed her : "Heaven bless You !" says I -"you re home ag in Same old dimple in your chin, Same white apern," I-says-ee, "Same sweet girl, and good to see As your mother ust to be, And F got you home ag in Home ag in with me !" I turns then to go on by her Through the door and see her eyes Both wuz swimmin , and she tries 281 THE HOOSIER BOOK To say somepin can t and so Grabs and hugs and lets me go. Noticed Aunty d made a fire In the settin -room and gone Back where her p serves wuz on Bilin in the kitchen. I Went out on the porch and set, Thinkin -like. And by and by Heerd Elviry, soft and low, At the organ, kind o go A mi-anderin up and down With her fingers mongst the keys "Vacant Chair" and "Old Camp-Groun ." Dusk was moist-like, with a breeze Lazin round the locus -trees Heerd the bosses champin , and Jonas feedin , and the hogs Yes, and katydids and frogs And a tree-toad, somers. Heerd Also whipper wills. My land! All so mournful ever where Them out here, and her in there, Most like tendin services! Anyway, I must a jes Kind o drapped asleep, I guess; Cause when Jonas must a passed Me, a-comin in, I knowed Nothin of it yit it seemed Sort o like I kind o dreamed Bout him, too, a-slippin in, And a-watchin back to see Ef I ivuz asleep, and then 282 THE HOOSIER BOOK Passin in where Viry wuz ; And where I declare it does Tear to me I heerd him say, Wild and glad and whisperin Peared-like heerd him say, says-ee, "Ah ! I got you home ag in Home ag in with me !" 152 To "Uncle Remus" WE love your dear old face and voice We re all Miss Sally s Little Boys, Climbin your knee, In ecstasy, Rejoicin in your Creeturs* joys And trickery. The Lord who made the day and night, He made the Black man and the White; So, in like view, We hold it true That He hain t got no favorite Onless it s you. j A Feel in the Chris mas- Air T KEY S a kind o feel in the air, to me, When the Chris mas-times sets in, That s about as much of a mystery As ever I ve run ag in ! 283 THE HOOSIER BOOK Per instunce, now, whilse I gain in weight And gineral health, I swear They s a goneness somers I can t quite state A kind o feel in the air. They s a feel in the Chris mas-air goes right To the spot where a man lives at! It gives a feller a appetite They ain t no doubt about that! And yit they s somepin I don t know what That follers me, here and there, And ha nts and worries and spares me not A kind o feel in the air ! They s a feel, as I say, in the air that s jest As blame-don sad as sweet! In the same ra-sho as I feel the best And am spryest on my feet, They s allus a kind o sort of a ache That I can t lo-cate no-where; But it comes with Chris mas, and no mistake ! A kind o feel in the air. ifoovhl on Jo J mfirl >H IfuiT Is it the racket the childern raise? W y, no! God bless em! no! Is it the eyes and the cheeks ablaze Like my own wuz, long ago? Is it the bleat o the whistle and beat O the little toy-drum and blare O the horn? No! no! it is jest the sweet The sad-sweet feel in the air. 284 THE HOOS1ER BOOK 154 Cassander "/CASSANDER! Cassander !" her mother s voice \~J seems cle r As ever, from the old back-porch, a-hollerin fer her specially in airly Spring like May, two year ago Last time she hollered fer her, and Cassander didn t hear 1 ^ob-^riH. t o iio.- B rlJiv/ ,tjd j=Bqe no bs^Ij^na I aelHY/ Cassander wuz so chirpy-like and sociable and free, And good to ever body, and wuz even good to me Though I wuz jes a common well, a farm-hand, don t you know, A-workin on her father s place, as pore as pore could be! jfr// str/, ^gn?^ }j;a~-.T>n i9i bv{,D\i b I 3?no^ beri b l u^J. Her bein jes a only child, Cassander had her way A good- eal more n other girls; and neighbers ust to say She looked most like her Mother, but wuz turned most like her Pap, Except he had no use fer /own-folks then ner yit to-day! I can t claim she incouraged me: She d let me drive her in To town sometimes, on Saturd ys, and fetch her home ag in, Tel onc t she scused "Old Moll" and me, and some blame city-chap, He driv her home, two-forty style, in face o kith and kin. She even tried to make him stay fer supper, but I low He must a kind o spicioned some objections. Anyhow, 7OW YlSfl 137 ?,flfi Y tK 285 THE HOOSIER BOOK Her mother callin at her, whilse her father stood and shook His fist, the town-chap turnt his team and made his partin* bow. vsio s ?.Vi\u>j ioff Tib6njB?.2fiD <: "Cassander! You, Cassander!" hear her mother jes as plain, And see Cassander blushin like the peach-tree down the lane, Whilse I sneaked on apast her, with a sort o hang-dog look, A-feelin cheap as sorghum and as green as sugar-cane ! ,.-!, .!,,,!-<.i K .Ib^nommo, ,: "^ , (You see, I d skooted when she met her town-beau when, in fact, Ef I d had sense I d stayed fer her. But sense wuz what I lacked ! So I d cut home ahead o her, so s I could tell em what Wuz keepin her. And you know how a jealous fool ll act!) I past her, I wuz sa} r in , but she never turnt her head ; I swallered-like and cle red my th oat but that wuz all I said; And whilse I hoped fer some word back, it wuzn t what I got. That girl ll not stay stiller on the day she s layin dead ! Well, that-air silence lasted! Ust to listen ever day I d be at work and hear her mother callin thataway ; I d sight Cassander, mayby, cuttin home acrost the blue And drizzly fields; but nary answer nary word to say! THE HOOSIER BOOK Putt in about two weeks o that two weeks o rain and mud, Er mostly so : I couldn t plow. The old crick like a flood : And, lonesome as a borried dog, I d wade them old woods through The dogwood blossoms white as snow, and redbuds red as blood. /inUiv. y< . i\i vVvJuciSf t \K;oys I ujsUun ii> juvA\ tvA Lnst time her mother called her sich a morning like as now : The robins and the bluebirds, and the blossoms on the bough And this wuz yit fore brekfust, with the sun out at his best, And bosses kickin* in the barn and dry enough to plow. JiKitpz bub >toi?T bnu" ! -ffittf1&*r fetffH ,}rlgfl noY "Cassander ! O Cassander 1" . . . And her only answer What? A letter, twisted round the cookstove damper, smokin -hot, A-statin : "I wuz married on that day of all the rest, The day my husband fetched me home ef you ain t all f ergot !" "Cassander! O Cassander!" seems, allus, long in May, I hear her mother callin her a-callin , night and day "Cassander ! O Cassander !" allus callin , as I say, "Cassander! O Cassander!" jes a-callin thataway. vrrj ..iihow n 287 THE HOOSIER BOOK bne nlfit V g>tev/ owl* tafl* *d i "grf3W o?/J foods Tit tte -?55 Ow Queer Old World : booft K 9>fit ibho bio 3f!T ,-y/ol<i f nblwoy I : "oa t^m i Per them at s here in airliest infant stages, It s a hard world: Per them at gits the knocks of boyhood s ages, It s a mean world: Per them at nothin s good enough they re gittin , It s a bad world: Per them at learns at last what s right and fitting It s a good world. THE HIRED MAN. is }uo ituz SfJ rjv/ ,iHtra;i 9io Jr/ suw ?.n;3 >n IT S a purty hard world you find, my child It s a purty hard world you find! You fight, little rascal! and kick and squall, And snort out medicine, spoon and all! When you re here longer you ll change yer mind And simmer down sort o half-rickonciled. But now Jee!- Jlfy/-mun-neel It s a purty hard world, my child! It s a purty mean world you re in, my lad- It s a purty mean world you re in! We know, of course, in your schoolboy-days It s a world of too many troublesome ways . 1 1 17, i - > . . i i- -. - i - .^ Of tryin things over and startin ag in, Yit your chance beats what your parents had. But now Oh ! Fire-and-tow ! T t s a purty mean world, my lad! 288 THE HOOSIER BOOK It s a purty bad world you ve struck, young chap It s a purty bad world you ve struck But study the cards that you hold, you know, And your hopes will sprout and your mustache grow, And your store-clothes likely will change your luck, And you ll rake a rich ladybird into yer lap ! But now Doubt All things out It s a Durty bad world, young chap ! .yiiirf j o rl* bo-t im sbem "art;? nor!) bfiA It s a purty good world this is, old man It s a purty good world this is ! For all its follies and shows and lies It s rainy weather, and cheeks likewise, And age, hard-hearin and rheumatiz. We re not a-faultin the Lord s own plan- All things jest At their best It s a purty good world, old man! 156 The Rhymes of Ironquill I TO EUo ENE F. WARE VE allus held till jest of late That Poetry and me Got on best, not to sociate That is, most poetry; But t other day my son-in-law, Milt be n in town to mill Fetched home a present-like, fer Ma, The Rhymes of Ironquill. 289 THE HOOSIER BOOK Milt ust to teach ; and, course, his views Ranks over common sense; That s biased me, till I refuse Most all he rickommends. But Ma she read and read along And cried, like women will, About that "Washerwoman s Song" In Rhymes of Ironquill. And then she made me read the thing, And found my specs and all : And I jest leant back there i jing My cheer ag inst the wall And read and read, and read and read, All to myse f ontil I lit the lamp and went to bed With Rhymes of Ironquill! I propped myse f up there, and durn! I never shet an eye Till daylight ! hogged the whole concern Tee-total, mighty nigh ! I d sigh sometimes, and cry sometimes, Er laugh jest fit to kill Clean captured-like. with them-air rhymes O that-air Ironquill! Read that-un bout old "Marmaton" At hain t be n ever "sized" In Song before and yit s rolled on Jest same as postrophized ! writ THE HOOSIER BOOK Putt me in mind o our old crick At Freeport and the mill And Hinchman s Ford till jest homesick Them Rhymes of Ironquill! Read that-un, too, bout "Game o Whist," And likenin Life to fun Like that and playin* out yer fist, However cards is run : And them "Tobacker-Stemmers* Song" They sung with sich a will Down mongst the misery and wrong In Rhymes of Ironquill. And old John Brown, who broke the sod Of Freedom s faller field And sowed his heart there, thankin God Pore slaves would git the yield Rained his last tears fer them and MS To irrigate and till A crop of Song as glorious As Rhymes of Ironquill. And sergeant, died there in the War, At talked, out of his head . . . He went "back to the Violet Star," I ll bet jest like he said! Yer Wars kin riddle bone and flesh, And blow out brains, and spill Life-blood, but Somepin lives on, fresh As Rhymes of Ironquill. 291 THE IIOOS1ER BOOK <uo V> hnirn HI n i t u 7 757 The Smitten Purist AND THE CHARMING MISS SMITHES EFFECT UPON HIM HPHWEET Poethy ! let me lithp forthwith, JL That I may thhing of the name of Smith- - Which name, alath ! In Harmony hath No adequate rhyme, letht you grant me thith, That the thimple thibillant thound of cth (Which to thave my thoul, I can not expreth!) Thuth I may thhingingly, Wooingly and winningly Thu thu thound in the name of Smith. give me a name that will rhyme with Smith, For wild and weird ath the sthrange name ith, I would sthrangle a sthrain And a thad refrain Faint and sthweet ath a whithpered kissth ; 1 would thhing thome thong for the mythtic mitth Who beareth the thingular name of Smith The dathzlingly brilli-ant, Rarely rethilliant _ T ;, , If tOy/ 5 ! i. Ap pup pellation of Smith! O had I a name that would rhyme with Smith- Thome rhythmical tincture of rethonant blith Thome melody rare Ath the cherubth blare 292 THE HOOSIER BOOK On them little trumpeths they re foolin* with- 1 would tint me down, and I d thhing like thith Of the girl of the thingular name of Smith The sthrangely curiouth, Rich and luxuriouth Pup patronymic of Smith ! ! .>riiw.*i\-j\i^ art} -fio irniilj um;} firil bnc ecfinurfi J niA 158 An Idiot I M on y thist a idiot That s what folks calls a feller what Ain t got no mind Of any kind, Ner don t know nothin he s forgot. I m one o them But I know why The bees buzz this way when they fly, Cause honey it gits on their wings. Ain t thumbs and fingers funny things ? What s money? Hooh! it s thist a hole Punched in a round thing at won t roll Cause they s a string Poked through the thing And fastened round your neck that s all! Ef I could git my money off, I d buy whole lots o whoopin -cough And give it to the boy next door Who died cause he ain t got no more. 293 THE HOOSIER BOOK What is it when you die? / know, You can t wake up ag in, ner go To sleep no more Ner kick, ner snore, Ner lay and look and watch it snow; And when folks slaps and pinches you You don t keer nothin what they do. No honey on the angels wings ! Ain t thumbs and fingers funny things? /5P The Hired Man s Faith in Chil dren r i, ;-IUo ?-Jio t tedv/: &r.f\T 1 I BELIEVE all childern s good, Ef they re only understood, Even bad ones, pears to me, S jes as good as they kin be! 160 "Them Old Cheery Words" I R fcrrfl ?/H IrfooH *Y-mo. <i z ti;!* // PAP he allus ust to say, "Chris mus comes but onc t a year ! Liked to hear him thataway, In his old split-bottomed cheer By the fireplace here at night Wood all in, and room all bright, Warm and snug, and folks all here: "Chris mus comes but onc t a year!" 294 THE HOOSIER BOOK Me and Lize, and Warr n and Jess And Eldory home fer two Weeks vacation ; and, I guess, Old folks tickled through and through, Same as we was, "Home onc t more Fer another Chris mus shore !" Pap ud say, and tilt his cheer, "Chris mus comes but onc t a year !" Ilij J92 "1"3 Ti>bi -> I TKii *O Mostly Pap was ap* to be Ser ous in his "daily walk," As he called it; giner ly Was no hand to joke er talk. Fac s is, Pap had never be n Rugged-like at all and then Three years in the army had He pped to break him purty bad. .oh o) Jrhjh 9-/UOY zn ,08 Never flinched! but frost and snow Hurt his wownd in winter. But You bet Mother knowed it, though ! Watched his feet and made him putt On his flannen; and his knee, Where it never healed up, he Claimed was "well now mighty near Chris mus comes but onc t a year !" os. ot bn I mrlJ aw \<> II A "Chris mus comes but onc t a year !" Pap ud say, and snap his eyes. . .witi .J Row o apples sputter n here Round the hearth, and me and Lize 2Q5 THE HOOSIER BOOK Crackin hicker -nuts ; and Warr n And Eldory parchin corn ; And whole raft o young folks here. "Chris mus comes but onc t a year !" Mother tuk most comfort in Jes a-he ppin Pap : She d fill His pipe fer him, er his tin O hard cider; er set still And read fer him out the pile O newspapers putt on file Whilse he was with Sherman (She Knowed the whole war-history!) Sometimes he d git het up some. "Boys," he d say, "and you girls, too, Chris mus is about to come ; So, as you ve a right to do, Celebrate it ! Lots has died, Same as Him they crucified, That you might be happy here. Chris mus comes but onc t a year!" ; T r; t 9jH5l fcirf fcrri; nwrnsfi ,-iiF rtO Missed his voice last Chris mus missed Them old cheery words, you know. Mother belt up tel she kissed All of us then had to go And break down ! And I laughs : "Here ! Chris mus comes but onc t a year! " "Them s his very words," sobbed she, "When he asked to marry me." 296 THE HOOSIER BOOK "Chris mus comes but onc t* a year !" "Chris mus comes but onc t a year !" Over, over, still I hear, "Chris mus comes but onc t a year !" Yit, like him, I m goin* to smile And keep cheerful all the while : Allus Chris mus There And here "Chris mus comes but onc t a year !" ir bodoVl 297 HIS PA S ROMANCE 161 His Pa s Romance rtMirl J" A^L at I ever want to be Is ist to be a man like Pa When he wuz young an married Ma 1 Uncle he telled us yisterdy Ist all about it then cause they, My Pa an Ma, wuz bofe away To tend P tracted Meetin , where My Pa an* Ma is allus there When all the big "Revivals" is, An "Love-Feasts," too, an "Class," an "Prayer. 5 An when s "Comoonian Servicis." An , yes, an* Uncle said to not To never tell them nor let on Like we knowed now ist how they got First married. So while they wuz gone Uncle he telled us ever thing Bout how my Pa wuz ist a pore Farm-boy. He says, I tell you what, Your Pa ivuz pore ! But neighbers they All liked him all but one old man An* his. old wife that folks all say Nobody liked, ner never can! 298 THE HOOSIER BOOK Yes, sir ! an Uncle purt nigh swore About the mean old man an way He treat my Pa ! cause he s a pore Farm-hand but prouder an a king An ist work on, he did, an* wore His old patched clo es, ist anyway, So he saved up his wages then He ist worked on an saved some more, An ist worked on, ist night an day Till, sir, he save up nine er ten Er hunnerd dollars I But he keep All still about it, Uncle say But he ist thinks an thinks a heap 1 Though what he wuz a-thinkin , Pa He never tell a soul but Ma (Then, course, you know, he wuzn t Pa, An , course, you know, she wuzn t Ma They wuz ist sweethearts, course you know) ; Cause Ma wuz ist a girl, about Sixteen ; an* when my Pa he go A-courtin her, her Pa an Ma The very first they find it out Wuz maddest folks you ever saw ! Cause it wuz her old Ma an Pa At hate my Pa, an toss their head, An ist raise Ned ! An her Pa said He d ruther see his daughter dead ! An said she s ist a child! an so Wuz Pa ! An* ef he wuz man-grown An* only man on earth below, His daughter shouldn t marry him Ef he s a king an on his throne 1 299 THE HOOSIER BOOK Pa s chances then looked mighty slim Per certain, Uncle said. But he He never told a soul but her What he wuz keepin quiet fer. Her folks ist lived a mile from where He lived at an they drove past there To git to town. An ever one An all the neighbers they liked her An showed it ! But her folks no, sir ! Nobody liked her parunts none ! An so when they shet down, you know, On Pa an old man tell him so Pa ist went back to work, an she Ist waited. An , sir ! purty soon Her folks they thought he s turned his eye Seme other way cause by-an -by They heard he d rented the old place He worked on. An one afternoon A neighber, that had bu st a trace, He tell the old man they wuz signs Around the old place that the young Man wuz a-fixin up the old Log cabin some, an he had brung New f urnichur from town ; an told How th old house uz whitewashed clean An* sweet wiv mornin -glory vines An hollyhawks all round the door An winders an a bran -new floor In th old porch an wite-new green- An -red pump in the old sweep-well! An , Uncle said, when he hear tell 300 THE HOOSIER BOOK O all them things, the old man he 1st grin an says, he "reckon now Some gal, er widder anyhow, That silly boy he s coaxed at last To marry him !" he says, says-ee, "An ef he has, so mote it be !" Then went back to the house to tell His wife the news, as he went past The smokehouse, an* then went on in The kitchen, where his daughter she Wuz washin , to tell her, an grin An try to worry her a spell ! The mean old thing ! But Uncle said She ain t cry much ist pull her old Sunbonnet forrerds on her head So s old man he can t see her face At all ! An when he s pose he scold An jaw enough, he ist clear out An think he s boss of all the place ! "lire* sill ni j-*a qot tv ?riT Then Uncle say, the first you know They s go to be a Circus-show In town ! an old man think he ll take His wife an go. An when she say To take their daughter, too, she shake Her head like she don t want to go ; An when he sees she wants to stay, The old man takes her, anyway ! An so she went ! But Uncle he Said she looked mighty sweet that day, Though she wuz pale as she could be, 301 THE HOOSIER BOOK A-speshully a-drivin by Wite where her beau lived at, you know; But out the corner of his eye The old man watch* her ; but she throw Her pairsol round so she can t see The house at all ! An then she hear Her Pa an Ma a-talkin low And kind o* laughin -like ; but she 1st set there in the seat behind, P tendin like she didn t mind. An , Uncle say, when they got past The young man s place, an pearantly He wuzn t home, but off an gone To town, the old man turned at last An* talked back to his daughter there, All pleasant-like, from then clean on Till they got into town, an where The Circus wuz, an on inside O that, an through the crowd, on to The very top seat in the tent Wite next the band a-bangin through A tune at bu st his yeers in two ! An there the old man scrouged an tried To make his wife set down, an* she A-yellin ! But ist what she meant He couldn t hear, ner couldn t see Till she turned round an pinted. Then He turned an looked an looked again ! He ist saw neighbers ever where But, sir, his daughter wuzn t there I 302 THE HOOSIER BOOK An , Uncle says, he even saw Her beau, you know, he hated so ; An he wuz with some other girl. An then he heard the Clown "Haw-haw 1" An saw the horses wheel an whirf Around the ring, an heard the zipp O the Ringmaster s long slim whip But that whole Circus, Uncle said, Wuz all inside the old man s head ! An Uncle said, he didn t find His daughter all that afternoon An her Ma says she ll lose her mind Kf they don t find her purty soon ! But, though they looked all day, an stayed There fer the night p formance not No use at all ! they never laid Their eyes on her. An then they got Their team out, an the old man shook His fist at all the town, an* then Shook it up at the moon ag in, An* said his time ud come, some day! An* jerked the lines an* driv away Uncle, he said, he spect, that night. The old man s madder yet when they Drive past the young man s place, an hear A fiddle there, an see a light Inside, an* shadders light an gay A-dancin crost the winder-blinds. An some young chaps outside yelled, "Say! What pears to be the hurry hey?" 303 THE HOOSIER BOOK But the old man ist whipped the lines An* streaked past like a runaway ! An now you ll be su prised, I bet ! I hardly ain t quit laughin yet When Uncle say, that jamboree An dance an all w y, that s a sign That any old man ort to see, As plain as 8 and 1 makes 9, That they s a wcddin wite inside That very house he s whippin so To git apast an , sir ! the bride There s his own daughter ! Yes, an oh ! She s my Ma now an* young man she Got married, he s my Pa! Whoop-eel But Uncle say to not laugh all The laughin yet, but please save some To kind o spice up what s to come ! *U3 ^rfj nodt W. /iofl no gov-> ibrfT Then Uncle say, about next day The neighbers they begin to call An wish em well, an say how glad An proud an tickled ever way Their friends all is an how they had The lovin prayers of ever* one That had homes of their own ! But none Said nothin bout the home that she Had run away from! So she sighed Sometimes an wunst she purt* nigh cr. Well, Uncle say, her old Pa, he 1st like to died, he wuz so mad ! An her Ma, too! But by-an -by They cool down some. 304 THE HOOSIER BOOK An* bout a week, She want to see her Ma so bad, She think she ll haf to go ! An so She coax him ; an he kiss her cheek An* say, Lord bless her, course they ll go ! An , Uncle say, when they re bofe come A-knockin there at her old home W y, first he know, the door it flew Open, all quick, an she s jerked in, An , quicker still, the door s banged to An locked : an crosst the winder-sill The old man pokes a shotgun through An says to git ! "You stold my child," He says ; "an , now she s back, w y, you Clear out, this minute, er I ll kill You! Yes, an I ull kill her, too, Ef you don t go !" An then, all wild, His young wife begs him please to go ! An* so he turn an walk all slow An pale as death, but awful still An ca m back to the gate, an on Into the road, where he had gone So many times alone, you know ! An , Uncle say, a whipperwill Holler so lonesome, as he go On back to rds home, he say he spec* He ist ud like to wring its neck ! An I ain t think he s goin back All by hisse f but Uncle say That s what he does, an it s a f ac ! An pears-like he s gone back to stay Cause there he stick , ist thataway, 305 THE HOOS1ER BOOK An* don t go nowheres any more, Ner don t nobody ever see Him set his foot outside the door Till bout five days, a boy loped down The road, a-comin past from town, An he called to him from the gate, An sent the old man word : He s thought Things over now ; an , while he hate To lose his wife, he think she ought To mind her Pa an Ma an do Whatever they advise her to. An sends word, too, to come an git Her new things an the furnichur That he had special bought fer her Cause, now that they wuz goin* to quit, She s free to ist have all of it ; So, fer his love fer her, he say To come an git it, wite away. An spang ! that very afternoon, Here come her Ma ist bout as soon As eld man could hitch up an tell Her "hurry back !" An bout as quick As she s drove there to where my Pa I mean to where her son-in-law Lives at, he meets her at the door All smilin , though he s awful pale An trimbly like he s ist been sick ; He take her in the house An , fore She knows it, they s a cellar-door Shet on her, an she hears the click Of a old rusty padlock! Then, Uncle, he say, she kind o stands 306 THE HOOSIER BOOK An thinks an thinks an thinks ag in An mayby thinks of her own child Locked up like her ! An Uncle smiled, An I ist laughed an clapped my hands ! An there she stayed ! An she can cry Ist all she want ! an yell an kick To ist her heart s content! an try To pry out wiv a quiltin -stick ! But Uncle say he guess at last She bout give up, an holler* through The door-crack fer to please to be So kind an good as send an tell The old man, like she want him to, To come, fore night, an set her free, Er they wuz rats down there ! An yell She did, till, Uncle say, it soured The morning s milk in the back yard ! But all the answer reached her, where She s skeered so in the dark down there, Wuz ist a mutterin that she heard "I ve sent him word! I ve sent him word! An shore enough, as Uncle say, He has "sent word !" Well, it s plum night An all the house is shet up tight Only one winder bout half-way Raised up, you know ; an ain t no light Inside the whole house, Uncle say. Then, first you know, there where the team 307 THE HOOSIER BOOK . Stands hitched yet, there the old man stands- A old tin lantern in his hands An monkey-wrench ; an he don t seem To make things out, a-standin there. He comes on to the gate an feels An fumbles fer the latch then hears A voice that chills him to the heels "You halt ! an stand right where you air ! ! Then, sir! my my his son-in-law, There at the winder wiv his gun, He tell the old man what he s done : "You hold my wife a prisoner An your wife, drat ye! I ve got her! An now, sir," Uncle say he say, "You ist turn round an climb wite in That wagon, an drive home ag in An bring my wife back wite away, An we ll trade then an not before Will I unlock my cellar-door Not fer your wife s sake ner your own ; But my wife s sake an hers alone!" An , Uncle say, it don t sound like It s so, but yet it is ! He say, From wite then, somepin seem to strike The old man s funny-bone some way ; An , minute more, that team o his Went tearin down the road k whiz! An in the same two-forty style Come whizzin back ! An oh, that-air Sweet girl a-cryin all the while, y* THE HOOS1ER BOOK Thinkhv about her Ma there, shet In her own daughter s cellar, where 1st week or so she s kep house there, She hadn t time to clean it yet! So when her Pa an her they git There an the young man grab an kiss An hug her, till she make him quit An ask him where her mother is. An* then he smile* an try to not; Then slow-like find th old padlock key, An blow a oat-hull out of it, An then stoop down there where he s got Her Ma locked up so keer fully An* where, wite there, he say he thought It art to been the old man though Uncle, he say, he reckon not When out she bounced, all tickled so To taste fresh air ag in an find Her folks wunst more, an grab her chile An cry an laugh, an even go An hug the old man ; an he wind Her in his arms, an laugh, an pat Her back, an say he s riconciled, in such a happy scene as that, To swap his daughter for her Ma, An have so smart a son-in-law As they had ! "Yes, an he s my Pa !" I laugh an yell , "Hooray-hooraw !" iiifb yrr; *nju 309 THE HOOSIER BOOK __ .r 162 Almost Beyond Endurance I AIN T a-goin lo cry no more, no more ! I m got ear-ache, an Ma can t make It quit a-tall; An Carlo bite my rubber-ball An puncture it; an Sis she take An* poke my knife down through the stable-floor An loozed it blame it all ! But I ain t goin to cry no more, no more ! An Aunt Mame wrote she s comin , an she can t Folks is come there! An I don t care She is my Aunt ! An my eyes stings ; an I m 1st coughin all the time, An hurts me so, an where my side s so sore Grampa felt where, an he Says "Mayby it s plcurasy!" But I ain t goin to cry no more, no more ! An I clumbed up an nen failed off the fence. An Herbert he ist laugh at me ! An my fi -cents It sticked in my tin bank, an I ist tore Purt nigh by thumbnail off, a-tryin to git It out nen smash it ! An* it s in there yit ! But I ain t goin to cry no more, no more ! Oo! I m so wicknd! An my breath s so hot Ist like I run an don t res none But ist run on when I ought to not; Yes, an my chin 310 THE HOOSIER BOOK An lips s all warpy, an teeth s so fast, An* s a place in my throat I can t swaller past An* they all hurt so ! An oh, my-oh ! I m a-startin ag in I m a-startin ag in, but I won t, fer shore ! / ist ain t gain to cry no more, no more! The Lisper ELSIE MINGUS lisps, she does! She lives wite acrosst from us In Miz. Ayers uz house at she Rents part to the Mingusuz. Yes, an Elsie plays wiv me. Elsie lisps so, she can t say Her own name, ist anyway! She says "Elthy" like they wuz Feathers on her words, an they Ist stick on her tongue like fuzz. Myf she s purty, though! An when She lisps, w y, she s purty nen! When she telled me, wunst, her doll Wuz so "thweet," an T p ten / lisp too, she laugh at s all ! 311 THE HOOSIER BOOK She don t never git mad none Cause she know I m ist in fun. Elsie she ain t one bit sp iled. Of all childerns ever one- She s the ladylike st child ! My Ma say she is ! One time Elsie start to say the rhyme, "Thing a thong o thixpenth" Wheel I ist yell! An Ma say I m Unpolite as I can be ! Wunst I went wiv Ma to call On Elsie s Ma, an eat an all ; An nen Elsie, when we ve et, An we re playin in the hall, Elsie say: It s etikett Fer young gentlemens, like me, Eatin when they s company, Not to never ever crowd Down their food, ner "thip their tea Ner thup thoop so awful loud !" .9d$uot- -wff oo Our Betsy US CHILDERN S all so lonesome, We hardly want to play Or skip or swing or anything, Cause Betsy she s away! .312 THE HOOSIER BOOK She s gone to see her people At her old home. But then Oh! every child ll jist be wild When she s back here again ! CHORUS Then it s whoopty-doopty do o den! Whoopty-dooden then! Oh! it s whoopty-doopty doodcn, When Betsy s back again! She s like a mother to us, And like a sister, too Oh, she s as sweet as things to eat When all the dinner s through ! And hey ! to hear her laughin ! And ho ! to hear her sing ! To have her back is all we lack Of havin everything! CHORUS Then it s whoopty-doopty dooden! Whoopty-dooden then! Oh! it s whoopty-doopty doodcn, When Betsy s back again! Oh ! some may sail the northern lakes, And some to foreign lands, And some may seek old Nameless Creek, Or India s golden sands; 3T3 THE HOOSIER BOOK Or some may go to Kokomo, And some to Mackinac, But I ll go down to Morgantown To fetch our Betsy back. CHORUS Then it s ivhoopty-doopty dooden! Whoopty-dooden then! Oh! it s whoopty-doopty dooden, When Betsy s back again! The Toy-Balloon wuz a Big Day wunst in town, A An little Jason s Pa Buyed him a little toy-balloon, The first he ever saw. An oh ! but Jase wuz more n proud, A-holdin to the string And scrougin through the grea -big crowd, To hear the Glee Club sing. The Glee Club it wuz goin to sing In old Masonic Hall ; An Speakin , it wuz in there, too, An soldiers, folks an all : An Jason s Pa he git a seat An set down purty soon, A-holdin little Jase, an him A-holdin his balloon. 3U THE HOOSIER BOOK An while the Speakin s startin up An ever body still The first you know wuz little Jase A-yellin fit to kill ! Nen Jason s Pa jump on his seat An grab up in the air, But little Jason s toy-balloon Wuz clean away from there ! jishl bio ?;>ii Yti, ,> r .)OiIrt \] :yA-j>-sl j -stfl nA An Jase he yelled ; an Jase s Pa, Still lookin up, clumb down While that-air little toy-balloon Went bumpin roun an roun Ag inst the ceilin , way up there Where ever body saw, An they all yelled, an Jason yelled, An little Jason s Pa ! But when his Pa he packed him out A-screamin nen the crowd Looked down an hushed till they looked up An howled again out loud ; An nen the speaker, mad an pale, Jist turned an left the stand, An all j ined in the Glee Club "Hail, Columby, Happy Land !" 315 THE HOOSIER BOOK 1 66 Old Granny Dusk ^HeX 3-brii stm ygtu4 W> .^?-i) 31 T OLD Granny Dusk, when the sun goes down, Here she comes into thish-yer town ! Out o the wet black woods an swamps In she traipses an trails an tromps With her old sunbonnet all floppy an brown, An her cluckety shoes, an her old black gown, Here she comes into thish-yer town ! -HfWKOif) flifiufu ,([17 . iinfool llll ri Old Granny Dusk, when the bats begin To flap around, comes a-trompin in ! An the katydids they rasp an whir, An the lightnin -bugs all blink at her; An the old Hop-toad turns in his thumbs, An the bunglin June-bug booms an* bums, An the Bullfrog croaks, "O here she comes !" Old Granny Dusk, though I m feard o you, Shore-fer-certain I m sorry, too: Cause you look as lonesome an starved an sad As a mother at s lost ever child she had. Yet never a child in thish-yer town Clings at yer hand er yer old black gown, Er kisses the face you re a-bendin down. THE HOOS1ER BOOK Billy Miller s Circus-Show AT BILLY MILLER S Circus-Show In their old stable where it s at The boys pays twenty pins to go, An gits their money s-worth at that ! Cause Billy he can climb and chalk His stockin -feet an purt nigh walk A tight-rope yes, an* cf he fall He ll ketch, an "skin a cat" at s all ! He ain t afeard to swing and hang 1st by his legs 1 an mayby stop An yell "Look out !" an nen k-spang ! He ll let loose, upside-down, an drop Wite on his hands ! An nen he ll do "Contortion-acts" ist limber through As "Injarubber Mens" at goes With shore-fer-certain circus-shows ! At Billy Miller s Circus-Show He s got a circus-ring an they s A dressin -room, so s he can go An dress an paint up when he plays He s somepin else ; cause sometimes he s "Ringmaster" bossin like he please An sometimes "Ephalunt" er "Bare- Back Rider," prancin out o there ! An* sometimes an the best of all! He s "The Old Clown," an got on clo es All stripud, an white hat, all tall An peakud like in shore- nuff shows, THE HOOSIER BOOK An got three-cornered red-marks, too, On his white cheeks ist like they do !- An you d ist die, the way he sings An dances an says funny things ! 168 Good-By cr Howdy-Do SAY good-by er howdy-do What s the odds betwixt the two? Comin goin , ev ry day Best friends first to go away Grasp of hands you d ruther hold Than their weight in solid gold Slips their grip while greetin you. Say good-by er howdy-do ! Howdy-do, and then, good-by Mixes jes like laugh and cry; Deaths and births, and worst and best, Tangled their contrariest ; Ev ry jinglin weddin -bell Skerrin up some funer l knell. Here s my song, and there s your sigh. Howdy-do, and then, good-by! Say good-by er howdy-do Jes the same to me and you ; Tain t worth while to make no fuss, Cause the job s put up on us ! THE HOOSIER BOOK Some One s runnin this concern That s got nothin else to learn : Ef He s willin , we ll pull through- Say good-by er howdy-do ! 169 Never Talk Back NEVER talk back ! sich things is repperhensible ; A feller only hurts hisse f that jaws a man that s hot; In a quarrel, ef you ll only keep your mouth shet and act sensible, The man that does the talkin 11 git worsted every shot ! Never talk back to a feller that s abusin you Jes let him carry on, and rip, and snort, and swear ; And when he finds his blamin and defamin s jes amusin you, You ve got him clean kaflummixed, and you want to hold him there ! Never talk back, and wake up the whole community And call a man a liar, over Law, er Politics. You can lift and land him furder and with gracefuller impunity With one good jolt of silence than half a dozen kicks! 319 THE HOOSIER BOOK Me and Mary ALL my feelin s in the Spring- Gits so blame contrary, I can t think of anything Only me and Mary ! "Me and Mary !" all the time, "Me and Mary!" like a rhyme, Keeps a-dingin on till I m Sick o "Me and Mary !" "Me and Mary ! Ef us two Only was together Playin* like we used to do In the Aprile weather !" All the night and all the day I keep wishin thataway Till I m gittin old and gray Jes on "Me and Mary !" Muddy yit along the pike Sence the Winter s freezin , And the orchard s back ard-like Bloomin out this season ; Only heerd one bluebird yit Nary robin ner tomtit ; What s the how and why of it? i " - 1 u > . 1 K 1 i J i n -> Spect it s "Me and Mary!" Me and Mary liked the birds That is, Mary sort o Liked em first, and afterwards, W y, I thought I d ort o. 320 THE HOOSIER BOOK And them birds ef Mary stood Right here with me, like she should They d be singin , them birds would, All fer me and Mary. ..tioiia ffhnjji .-,Ji io-os ori aiil ts^II Birds er not, I m hopin some I can git to plowin ! Ef the sun ll only come, And the Lord allowin , Guess to-morry I ll turn in And git down to work ag in ; This here loaferin won t win, Not fer me and Mary ! ! JB tfsifi h lo t tftli OTOiI// VibnoY/ Fer a man that loves, like me, And s afeard to name it, Till some other feller, he Gits the girl dad-shame-it! Wet er dry, er clouds er sun Winter gone er jes begun Outdoor work fer me er none, No more "Me and Mary!" 171 Fire at Night FIRE ! Fire ! Ring ! and ring ! Hear the old bell bang and ding ! Fire ! Fire ! way at night, Can t you hear ? I think you might 1 Can t you hear them-air clangin bells ?- W y, / can t hear nothin else 1 321 THE HOOSIER BOOK Fire ! Ain t you wake at last ! Hear them horses poundin past Hear that ladder-wagon grind Round the corner 1 and, behind, Hear the hose-cart, turnin short, And the horses slip and snort, As the engine s clank-and-jar Jolts the whole street, near and far. Fire ! Fire ! Fire I Fire ! Can t 3 ou h ist that winder higher? La ! they ve all got past like "scat !" Night s as black as my old hat And it s rainin , too, at that ! . . . Wonder where their old fire s at! if 2 A Fall-Crick View of the Earth quake I KIN hump my back and take the rain, And 1 don t keer how she pours; I kin keep kind o ca m in a thunder-storm, No matter how loud she roars; I hain t much skeered o the lightnin Ner I hain t sich awful shakes Afeard o cyclones but I don t want none O yer dad-burned old earthquakes ! As long as my legs keeps stiddy, And long as my head keeps plum , And the buildin stays in the front lot, I still kin whistle, some! 322 THE HOOSIER BOOK But about the time the old clock Flops off n the mantel-shelf, And the bureau skoots fer the kitchen, I m a-goin to skoot, myself ! Plague-take ! ef you keep me stabled While any earthquakes is around ! I m jes like the stock, I ll beller And break fer the open ground ! And I low you d be as nervous, And in jes about my fix, When your whole farm slides from inunder you, And on y the mor gage sticks ! Now cars hain t a-goin to kill you Ef you don t drive crost the track ; Crediters never ll jerk you up Ef you go and pay em back ; You kin stand all moral and mundane storms Ef you ll on y jes behave But a EARTHQUAKE i well, ef it wanted you It ud husk you out o yer grave ! j Spirits at Home THE FAMILY THERE was Father, and Mother, and Emmy, and Jane, And Lou, and Ellen, and John and me And Father was killed in the war, and Lou She died of consumption, and John did too, And Emmy she went with the pleurisy. 323 THE HOOSIER BOOK THE SPIRITS Father believed in em all his life But Mother, at first, she d shake her head Till after the battle of Champion Hill, When many a flag in the winder-sill Had crape mixed in with the white and red ! I used to doubt em myself till then But me and Mother was satisfied When Ellen she set, and Father came And rapped "God Bless You !" and Mother s name, And The Flag s up here !" . . . And we all just cried. Used to come to us often, after that, And talk to us just as he used to do, Pleasantest kind ! And once, for John, He said he was "lonesome, but wouldn t let on Fear Mother would worry, and Emmy and Lou." But Lou was the bravest girl on earth For all she never was hale and strong, She d have her fun ! With her voice clean lost She d laugh and joke us that "when she crossed To Father, we d all come taggin along!" Died just that way! And the raps was thick That night, as they often since occur, Extry loud ! And when Lou got back She said it was Father and her and "whack!" She tuk the table and we knowed her! 324 THE HOOSIER BOOK John and Emmy, in five years more, Both had went. And it seemed like fate, For the old home it burnt down. But Jane And me and Ellen we built again The new house, here, on the old estate. And a happier family I don t know Of anywheres unless it s them, Father, with all his love for Lou, And her there with him, and healthy, too, And laughin , with John and little Em. And, first we moved in the new house here, They all dropped in for a long powwow : "We like your buildin , of course," Lou said, "But wouldn t swap with you to save your head For we live in the ghost of the old house now !" Some Christinas Youngsters THE STRENGTH OF THE WEAK EST Chris mus, little Benny Wuzn t sick so bad, Now he s had the worst spell Ever yet he had. Ever Chris mus-morning, though, He ll p tend as if He s asleep an first you know He s got your "Chris mus-giP!" 325 THE HOOSIER BOOK Pa he s good to all of us All the time; but when, Ever time it s Chris mus, He s as good-again ! Sides our toys an candy, Ever Chris mus, he Gives us all a quarter, Certain as can be ! Pa, this morning, tiptoe in To make the fire, you know, Long fore it s daylight, An all s ice an snow ! An Benny holler, "Chris mus-gifl" An Pa jump an say, "You ll only git a dollar if You skeer me thataway!" THE LITTLE QUESTIONER Babe she s so always Wantin more to hear All about Santy Claus, An says : "Mommy dear, Where s Santy s home at When he ain t away? An is they Mizzuz Santy Claus An little folks say? Chris mus, Santy s always here Don t they want him, too? When it ain t Chris mus What does he do?" 326 THE HOOSTER BOOK in PARENTAL CHRISTMAS PRESENTS Parunts don t git toys an things, Like you d think they ruther. Mighty funny Chris mus-gif s Parunts gives each other ! Pa give Ma a barrel o flour, An Ma she give to Pa The nicest dinin -table She know he ever saw 1 srt& i : bloD ! visiine! >5A. 7 LI ( bbirrrt ooj v/ona b 327 MORNING -A Ho osier Calendar JANUARY BLEAK January! Cold as fate, And ever colder ever keener Our very hair cut while we wait By winds that clip it ever cleaner: Cold as a miser s buried gold, Or nether-deeps of old tradition Jeems January f you re a cold Proposition ! FEBRUARY You, February, seem to be Old January s understudy, But play the part too vaudeville-y, With wind too moist and snow too muddy You overfreeze and overthaw Your "Hos ler Jo Mike recitation But hints that you re, at best, a raw Imitation. 328 THE HOOSIER BOOK MARCH And, March, you ve got no friends to spare- Warm friends, I mean unless coal-dealers, Or gas-well owners, pipin where The piper s paid above all spielers ; You are a month, too, of complex Perversities beyond solution A sort o "loveliest of your sex" Institution ! APRIL But, April, when you kind o come A-sa nterin down along our roadway, The bars is down, and we re at home, And you re as welcome as a show-day ! First thing we know, the sunshine falls Spring-like, and drenches all Creation With that- ere ba m the poet calls "Inspiration." MAY And May! It s warmin jest to sec The crick thawed clear ag in and daiicin Pear-like it s tickled most as me A-prancin crosst it with my pants on ! And then to hear the bluebird whet His old song up and lance it through you, Clean through the boy s heart beatin yet Hallylooya ! 329 THE HOOSIER BOOK JUNE June LI, I jest git doped on June! The trees and grass all at their greenest The round earth swung twixt sun and moon, Jest at its so to say serenest : In country, stars and whipperwills ; In town, all night the boys invadin Leadin citizens winder-sills, Sair-a-nadin . JULY Fish still a-bitin some; but most Too hot fer anything but layin Jest do-less like, and watchin clo st The treetops and the squirrels playin Their tail-tips switched bove knot and limb, But keepin* most in sequestration Leavin a big part to the im- Magination. AUGUST Now when it s August I can tell It by a hundred signs and over ; They is a mixed ripe-apple-smell And mashed-down grass and musty clover ; Bees is as lazy most as me Bee-bird eats em gap s his wings out So lazy at I don t think he Spits their stings out! 330 THE HOOSIER BOOK SEPTEMBER September, you appeal to all, Both young and old, lordly and lowly ; You stuff the haymow, trough and stall, Till horse and cow s as roly-poly As pigs is, slopped on buttermilk And brand, shipstuff and tater-peelin s And folks, too, feelin fine as silk With all their f eelin s 1 OCTOBER If I d be n asked for my advice, And thought the thing out, ca m and sober- Sizin the months all once or twice, I d la nch d the year out with October. . All Nature then jest veiled and dressed In weddin gyarments, ornamented With ripe-fruit-gems and kissin jest New-invented ! NOVEMBER I m feared November s hopes is few And far between! Cold as a Monday- Washday, er a lodge-man who You got to pallbear for on Sunday ; Colder and colder every day The fixed official time for sighin , A sinkin state you jest can t stay In, or die in ! 331 THE HOOSIER BOOK DECEMBER December why, of course we grin And bear it shiverin every minute, Yet warm from time the month rolls in Till it skites out with Christmas in it ; And so, for all its coldest truths And chill, goose-pimpled imperfections, It wads our lank old socks with Youth s Recollections. 1/6 The Hired Man s Dog-Story Twa dogs that were na throng at hame Forgather d ance upon a time. BURNS. DOGS, I contend, is jes* about Nigh human git em studied out. I hold, like us, they ve got their own Reasonin powers at s theirs alone Same as their tricks and habits too, Provin , by lots o things they do, That instinct s not the only thing That dogs is governed by, i jing! And I ll say furder, on that line, And prove it, that they s dogs a-plenty Will show intelligence as fine As ary ten men out o twenty ! 332 THE HOOSIER BOOK Jevver investigate the way Sheep-killin dogs goes at it hey? Well, you dig up the facts and you Will find, first thing, they s always two Dogs goes together on that spree O blood and puore dog-deviltry! And, then, they always go at night Mind ye, it s never in daylight, When folks is up and wide awake, No self-respectin dogs ll make Mistakes o judgment on that score,-- And I ve knowed fifty head or more O slaughtered sheep found in the lot, Next morning the old farmer got His folks up and went out -to feed, And every livin soul agreed That all night long they never heerd The bark o dog ner bleat o skeered And racin , tromplin flock o sheep A-skallyhootin roun the pastur , To rouse em from their peaceful sleep To that heart-renderin disaster ! Well, now, they s actchul evidence In all these facts set forth ; and hence When, by like facts, it has been foun That these two dogs colloguin roun At night as thick as thieves by day Don t go together anyway, And, pearantly, hain t never met Each other; and the facts is set 333 THE HOOSIER BOOK On record furder, that these smart Old pards in crime lives miles apart Which is a trick o theirs, to throw Off all suspicion, don t you know! One s a tozvn-dog belongin to Some good man, maybe er to you ! And one s a country-dog, er "jay" As you nickname us thataway. Well, now ! these is the facts I got (And, mind ye, these is facts not guesses) To argy on, concernin what Fine reasonin powers dogs p sesses. My idy is, the dog lives in The town, we ll say, runs up ag in The country-dog, some Saturday, Under a old farm-wagon, say, Down at the Court-house hitchin -rack. Both lifts the bristles on their back And show their teeth and growl as though They meant it pleasant-like and low, In case the fight hangs fire. And they Both wag then in a friendly way, The town-dog sayin : "Seems to me, Last Dimocratic jubilee, I seen you here in town somewhere?" The country-dog says : "Right you air ! And right here s where you seen me, too, Under this wagon, watchin you!" "Yes," says the town-dog, "and I thought We d both bear watchin , like as not." 334 THE HOOSIER BOOK And as he yawns and looks away, The country-dog says, "What s your lay?" The town-dog whets his feet a spell And yawns ag in, and then says, "Well, Before I answer that Ain t you A Mill Crick dog, a mile er two From old Chape Clayton s stock-farmsay?" "Who told you? says the jay-dog "hey ?" And looks up, real su prised. "I guessed" The town-dog says "You tell the rest, How s old Chape s mutton, anyhow? How many of em s ready now How many s ripe enough f er use, And how s the hot, red, rosy juice?" " Mm !" says the country-dog, "I think I sort o see a little blink O what you mean." And then he stops And turns and looks up street and lops His old wet tongue out, and says he, Lickin* his lips, all slobbery, "Ad-drat my melts! you re jes my man! I ll trust you, cause I know I can !" And then he says, "I ll tell you jes How things is, and Chape s carelessness About his sheep, fer instance, say, To-morry Chapes ll all be way To Sund y-meetin and ag in At night." "At night? That lets us in ! Better the day " the town-dog says " Better the deed. We ll pray ; Lord, yes 1 May the outpourin grace be shed Abroad, and all hearts comforted 335 THE HOOSIER BOOK Accordin to their lights !" saj^s he, "And that, of course, means you and me." And then they both snarled, low and quiet Swore where they d meet. And both stood by it I Jes half-past eight on Sund y night, Them two dogs meets, the town-dog, light O foot, though five mile he had spanned O field, beech-wood and bottom-land. Bat, as books says, we draw a veil Over this chapter of the tale! . . . Yit when them two infernal, mean, Low, orn ry whelps has left the scene O carnage chased and putt to death The last pore sheep, they ve yit got breath Enough to laugh and joke about The fun they ve had, while they sneak out The woods-way for the old crick where They both plunge in and wash their hair And rench their bloody mouths, and grin, As each one skulks off home ag in Jes innardly too proud and glad To keep theirselves from kind o strutting Thinkin about the fun they d had When their blame wizzens needed cuttin 1 Dogs is deliber t. They can bide Their time till s picions all has died. The country-dog don t pear to care Per town no more, he s off somewhere When the folks whistles, as they head The team t rds town. As I jes said, 336 THE HOOSIER BOOK Dogs is deliber t, don t forgit! So this-here dog he s got the grit To jes deprive hisse f o town For bout three weeks. But time rolls roun ! . Same as they first met : Saturday- Same Court-house hitch-rack and same way The team wuz hitched same wagon where The same jay-dog growls under there When same town-dog comes loafin by, With the most innocentest eye And giner l meek and lowly style, As though he d never cracked a smile In all his mortal days ! And both Them dogs is strangers, you d take oath ! Both keeps a-lookin sharp, to see If folks is watchin jes the way They acted that first Saturday They talked so confidentchully. "Well" says the town-dog, in a low And careless tone "Well, whatch you know ?" " Know? " says the country-dog "Lots more Than some smart people knows that s shore !" And then, in his dog-language, he Explains how slick he had to be When some suspicious folks come roun A-tryin to track and run him down Like he d had anything to do With killin over fifty head O sheep! "Jes think! and me" he said, "And me as innocent as you, That very hour, five mile* away In this town, like you air to-day !" 337 THE HOOSIER BOOK "Ah !" says the town-dog, "there s the beauty O bein prepared for what may be, And washin when you ve done your duty! ; No stain o blood on you er me Ner wool in our teeth ! Then" says he, "When wicked men has wronged us so, We ort to learn to be forgivin Half the world, of course, don t know How the other gits its livin* !" 777 Her Poet-Brother o H ! what ef little childerns all ijK /y ; Wuz big as parunts is ! Nen I d join pa s Masonic Hall An wear gold things like his ! An you d "receive," like ma, an be My "hostuss" An , gee-whizz ! We d alluz have ice-cream, ef we Wuz big as parunts is ! ; V/O;"1 . Wiv all the money mens is got We d buy a Store wiv that, 1st candy, pies an cakes, an not No drygoods cept a hat- An -plume fer you an* "plug" fer me, An clothes like ma s an his, At on y ist fit us ef we Wuz big as parunts is ! 338 THE HOOSIER BOOK An* ef we had a little boy An girl like me an you, Our Store d keep ever kind o toy They d ever want us to! We d hire "Old Kriss" to tend to be The boss of all the biz An ist "charge" ever thing ef we Wuz big as parunts is! 9vhh oJ *r rfbirfw nJ- nibfoW ibill rtO 178 I Got to Face Mother To-day! viiji vlitjvo ijrn&M o 5 }on _ ^Tt>ii *niJiW m l o?! I GOT to face Mother to-day, fer a fact ! F got to face Mother to-day! And jes how Fll dare to, an how she will act, Is more than a mortal can say I But F got to face her F got to ! And so Here s a old father clean at the end of his row! And Pink and Wade s gone to the farm fer her now And Fm keepin house fer em here Their purty, new house and all paid fer! But how Am / goin to meet her, and clear Up my actchully he ppin em both to elope? ( Cause Mother wuz set and wuz no other hope!) I don t think it s Wade she s so biased ag in , But his bizness, a railroadin man At runs a switch-engine, day out and day in, And s got to make hay while he can, It s a danycrsoinc job, I ll admit, but see what A fine-furnished home at he s already got . 339 THE HOOSIER BOOK And Pink W y, the girl wuz just pinin away, So what could her old father do, When he found her, hid-like, in a loose load of hay, But jes to drive on clean into The aidge of the city, where singular thing ! Wade switched us away to the Squire, i jing! Now a-leavin me here they re driv off, with a cheer, On their weddin -trip which is to drive Straight home and tell Mother, and toll her back here And surrender me, dead er alive! So I m waitin here not so blame overly gay As I wus, cause I* got to face Mother to-day! Ivsb-o* vxiroM 33i oJ Jog 1 -I J/p A Little Lame Boy s Views ON Scursion-days an Shows an Fairs They ain t no bad folks anywheres I On street-cars same as you Seems like somebody allus sees I m lame, an takes me on their knees, An holds my crutches, too An* asts me what s my name, an pays My fare theirse f On all Big Days ! The mob all scrowdges you an* makes Enough o bluffs, fer goodness-sakes ! But none of em ain t mad They re only let tin on. / know ; An I can tell you why it s so : They re all of em too glad 340 THE HOOSIER BOOK They re ever one, jes glad as me To be there, er they wouldn t be ! The man that sells the tickets snoops My "one-er" in, but sort o stoops An grins out at me then Looks mean an business-like an sucks His big mustache at me an chucks Too much change out again. He s a smooth citizen, an yit He don t fool me one little bit ! An then, inside fer all the jam Folks, seems-like, all knows who I am, An tips me nods an winks ; An even country-folks has made Me he p eat pie an marmalade, With bottled milk fer "drinks" ! Folks all s so good to me that I Sometimes I nearly purt near* cry. An all the kids, high-toned er pore, Seems better than they wuz before, An wants to kind o "stand In" with a feller see him through The free lay-out an sideshows, too, An do the bloomin "grand" ! On Scursion-days an Shows an Fairs They ain t no bad folks anywheres ! 341 THE HOOSIER BOOK 180 Rabbit ISTOSE it takes a feller at s be n Raised in a country-town, like me, To predate rabbits ! . . . Eight er ten Bellerin boys and two er three Yelpin dawgs all on the trail O one little pop-eyed cottontail ! Bout the first good fall o snow So s you kin track em, don t you know, Where they ve run, and one by one Hop em up and chase em down And prod em out of a old bresh-pile Er a holler log they re a-hidin roun , Er way en-nunder the ricked cord-wood Er crosstie-stack by the railroad track Bout a mile Out o sight o the whole ding town ! . . Well ! them s times at I call good 1 /Wi xf Ww Y^ffj Vtlrfif TifJ-yrf pfn-vv- Rabbits ! w y, as my thoughts goes back To them old boyhood days o mine, I kin sic him now and see "Old Jack" A-plowin snow in a rabbit-track And a-pitchin over him, head and heels, Like a blame hat-rack, As the rabbit turns fer the timber-line Down the County Ditch through the old corn-fields. , 342 THE HOOSIER BOOK Yes, and I ll say right here to you, Rabbits that boys has earnt, like that Skinned and hung fer a night er two On the old back-porch where the pump s done froze Then fried bout right, where your brekfust s at, With hot brown gravy and shortenin bread, Rabbits, like them er I ort to a said, I s pose, Rabbits like those Ain t so p ticalar pore, I guess, Fer eatin 1 purposes! .03 ot vat-fq "^|m^w > ;?mo8 taO \i\r.-7iu \AciO nimmiwa-fi nl Grampa s Choice FIRST and best of earthly joys, I like little girls and boys : Which of all do I like best? Why, the one that s happiest. Think m Back I VE be n thinkin back, of late, S prisin ! And I m here to state I m suspicious it s a sign Of age, maybe, er decline Of my faculties, and yit I m not feelin old a bit Any more than sixty-four Ain t no young man any more ! 343 THE IIOOSIER BOOK Thinkin back s a thing at grows On a feller, I suppose Older at he gits, i jack, More he keeps a-thinkin back ! Old as old men git to be, Er as middle-aged as me, Folks ll find us, eye and mind Fixed on what we ve left behind Rehabilitatin -like Them old times we used to hike Out barefooted fer the crick, Long bout Aprile first to pick Out some "warmest" place to go In a-swimmin Ooh! my-oh! Wonder now we hadn t died ! Grate horseradish on my hide Jes a-thinkin how cold then That- ere worter must a be n ! Thinkin back W y, goodness me! I kin call their names and see Every little tad I played With, er fought, er was afraid Of, and so made him the best Friend I had of all the rest! Thinkin back, I even hear Them a-callin , high and clear, Up the crick-banks, where they seem Still hid in there like a dream And me still a-pantin on The green pathway they have gone ! 344 THE HOOSIER BOOK Still they hide, by bend er ford Still they hide but, thank the Lord (Thinkin back, as I have said), I hear laughin on ahead ! The Raggedy Man on Children GHILDERN take em as they run- You kin bet on ev ry one ! Treat em right and reco nize Human souls is all one size. Jevver think? the world s best men Wears the same souls they had when They run barefoot way back where All these little children air. Heerd a boy, not long ago, Say his parents sasscd him so. He d correct em, ef he could, Then be good ef they d be good. Lizabuth-Ann on Bakin -Day iljiw .<,W;f /Mff,.-]. OUR Hired Girl, when it s bakin -day She s out o patience allus, An* tells us "Hike outdoors an play, An when the cookies s done," she ll say, "Land sake ! she ll come an call us !" 345 THE HOOSIER BOOK An* when the little doughbowl s all 1st heapin -full, she ll come an call Nen say, "She ruther take a switchin Than have a pack o pesky childern Trackin round the kitchen 1" 185 "Mother" I M gittin old I know, It seems so long ago So long sence John was here 1 He went so young ! our Jim S as old now most as him, Close on to thirty year ! I know I m gittin old I know it by the cold, From time at first frost flies. Seems like sence John was here Winters is more severe ; And winter I de-spise ! And j^et it seems, some days, John s here, with his odd ways . . . Comes soon-like from the corn- Field, callin "Mother" at Me like he called me that Even fore Jim was born! 346 THE HOOSIER BOOK When Jim come La ! how good Was all the neighborhood ! And Doctor ! when I heerd Him joke John, kind o low, And say : Yes, folks could go Pa needn t be afeard ! When Jim come, John says- e A-bendin over me And baby in the bed And jes us three, says- e "Our little family!" And that was all he said . .V 1 And cried jes like a child! Kissed me again, and smiled, Cause I was cryin too. And here I am again A-cryin , same as then Yet happy through and through ! The old home s most in mind And joys long left behind . . . Jim s little h istin crawl Acrost the floor to where John set a-rockin there . . . (I m gittin* old That s all!) \ v --V ?CM I m gittin old no doubt (Healthy as all git-out!) 347 THE HOOSIER BOOK But, strangest thing I do, I cry so easy now I cry jes anyhow The fool-tears wants me to ! But Jim he won t be told At "Mother" s gittin old! . . . Hugged me, he did, and smiled This morning, and bragged "shore" He loved me even more Than when he was a child ! "! vfiwr.! t>ltjs! TriO" That s his way ; but ef John Was here now, lookin on, He d shorely know and see : "But, Mother, " s pect he d say, "S pose you air gittin gray, You re younger yet than me!" f|-jf{) fcj; inii:> ,*nPI3-A I m gittin old, because Our young days, like they was, Keeps comin back so clear, At little Jim, once more, Comes h istin crost the floor ! Per John s old rockin -cheer ! O beautiful! to be A-gittin old, like me! . . ^ Hey, Jim! Come in now, Jim! Your supper s ready, dear! (How more, every year, He looks and acts like him!) 348 THE HOOS1ER BOOK 186 What Little Saul Got, Christmas US parents mostly thinks our own s The smartest childern out ! But Widder Shelton s little Saul Beats all I know about ! He s weakly-like in p int o health, But strong in word and deed And heart and head, and snap and spunk, And allus in the lead ! Comes honest by it, fer his Pa Afore he passed away He was a leader (Lord, I d like To hear him preach to-day!) He led his flock ; he led in prayer Fer spread o Peace and when Nothin but War could spread it, he Was first to lead us then ! So little Saul has grit to take Things jes as they occur; And Sister Shelton s proud o him As he is proud o her ! And when she "got up" jes fer him And little playmates all- A Chris mus-tree they ever one Was there but little Saul. Pore little chap was sick in bed Next room ; and Doc was there, And said the childern might file past, But go right back to where 349 THE HOOSIER BOOK The tree was, in the settin -room. And Saul jes laid and smiled Ner couldn t nod, ner wave his hand, It hurt so Bless the child ! And so they left him there with Doc And warm tear of his Ma s . . . Then suddent-like high over all Their laughture and applause They heerd : "I don t care what you git On your old Chris mus-tree, Cause I m got somepin you all hain t I m got the pleurisy 1" 187 G oldie Goodwin MY old Uncle Sidney he says it s a sign All over the Worl , an ten times out of nine, He can tell by the name of a child ef the same Is a good er bad youngun ist knows by their name ! So he says. "It s the vurry best sign in the Worl That Goldie Goodwin is a good little girl," An says, "First she s gold then she s good an behold, Good s bout \eventy-hunnerd times better than gold! Ivf n\""A j\A 2i:w Qfirfo sfttif -rro I 350 THE HOOSIER BOOK 188 Symptoms I M not a-workin now! I m jes a-layin round A-lettin other people plow. I m cumberin the ground ! . . . I jes don t keer! I ve done my sheer O sweatin ! Anyhow, In this dad-blasted weather here, I m not a-workin now! The corn and wheat and all Is doin well enough ! They got clean on from now tel Fall To show what kind o stuff At s in their own dad-burn backbone; So, while the Scriptur s low Man ort to reap as he have sown I m not a-workin now ! The grass en-nunder these- Here ellums long "Old Blue," And shadders o the sugar-trees, Beats farmin* quite a few ! As feller says, I ruther guess I ll make my comp ny bow And snooze a few hours more er less. I m not a-workin now ! -yrjIS to} J ngw Ji H jhov/ oJ 1ry I 351 THE HOOSIER BOOK 289 "Blue-Monday" at the Shoe Shop IN THE EARLY SEVENTIES OH, if we had a rich boss Who liked to have us rest, With a dime s lift for a benchmate Financially distressed, A boss that s been a "jour." himself And ain t forgot the pain Of restin one day in the week, Then back to work againe ! ! ilyiju!! 1 :? !!>// jtfofj ;-.[ Chorus TiuJ/i *o ]jfil;4 }f,ii // 7/iin i t, r Ho, it s hard times together, We ve had em, you and I, In all kinds of weather, Let it be wet or dry; But I m bound to earn my livelihood Or lay me down and die! Poverty compels me To face the snow and sleet, For poor wife and children Must have a crust to eat. The sad wail of hunger It would drive me insane, If it wasn t for Blue-Monday When I git to work againe ! 352 THE HOOS1ER BOOK Chorus i& to $8$) s PVt Ho, it s hard times together, We ve had em, you and I, In all kinds of weather, Let it be wet or dry ; But I m bound to earn my livelihood Or lay me down and die! Then it s stoke up the stove, Boss, And drive off the damps : Cut out me tops, Boss, And lend me your clamps ; Pass us your tobacky Till I give me pipe a start. .V.- Lor , Boss ! how we love ye For your warm kynd heart! Chorus Ho, it s hard times together, We ve had cm, you and I , In all kinds of weather, Let it be wet or dry; But I m bound to earn my livelihood Or lay me down and die! 353 THE HOOSIER BOOK 190 It s Got to Be ,t<*M^>t t*-.wh bv>n *,M t ,<V\\ "TT7HEN it s got to be," like I always say, V V As I notice the years whiz past, And know each day is a yesterday, When we size it up, at last, Same as I said when my boyhood went And I knowed we had to quit, "It s got to be, and it s goin to be 1" So I said "Good-by" to it. It s got to be, and it s goin to be! So at least I always try To kind o say in a hearty way, "Well, it s got to be. Good-by!" The time just melts like a late, last snow, When it s got to be, it melts! But I aim to keep a cheerful mind, Ef I can t keep nothin else ! I knowed, when I come to twenty-one, That I d soon be twenty-two, So I waved one hand at the soft young man, And I said, "Good-by to you!" It s got to be, and it s goin to be! So at least I always try To kind o say, in a cheerful way, "Well, it s got to be. Good-by !" 354 THE HOOSIER BOOK Tliey kep* a-goin , the years and years, Yet still I smiled and smiled, For I d said "Good-by" to my single life, And now had a wife and child: Mother and son and the father one, Till, last, on her bed of pain, She jes smiled up, like she always done, And I said "Good-by" again. It s got to be, and it s goin to be! So at least I always try To kind o say, in a humble way, "Well, it s got to be. Good-by !" And then my boy as he growed to be Almost a man in size, Was more than a pride and joy to me, With his mother s smilin eyes. He gimme the slip, when the War broke out, And followed me. And I Never knowed till the first fight s end . . . I found him, and then, . . . "Good-by." It s got to be, and it s goin to be! So at least I always try To kind o say, in a patient way, "Well, it s got to be. Good-by !" I have said, "Good-by ! Good-by ! Good-by !" With my very best good will, All through life from the first, and I Am a Cheerful old man still : 355 THE HOOSIER BOOK But it s got to end, and it s goin to end ! And this is the thing I ll do, With my last breath I will laugh, O Death, And say "Good-by" to you! . . . It s got to be! And again I say, When his old scythe circles high, I ll laugh of course, in the kindest way, As I say "Good-by! Good-by!" "Ix/f-booO .yd oJ K.\> ij ji ,I!oY/" Hoosier Spring-Poetry WHEN ever thing s a-goin like she s got-a-goin now, The maple-sap a-drippin , and the buds on ever bough A-sort o reachin up ards all a-trimblin , ever one, Like bout a million brownie-fists a-shakin at the sun ! The childern wants their shoes off fore their breakfast, and the Spring Is here so good-and-plenty that the old hen has to sing ! When things is goin thisaway, w y, that s the sign, you know, That ever thing s a-goin like we like to see her go ! Oh, ever thing s a-goin like we like to see her go ! Old Winter s up and dusted, with his dratted frost and snow The ice is out the crick ag in, the freeze is out the ground, And you ll see faces thawin too ef you ll jes look around ! 356 THE HOOSIER BOOK The bluebird s landin home ag in, and glad to git the chance, Cause here s where he belongs at, that s a settled circum stance ! And him and mister robin now s a-chunin fer the show. Oh, ever thing s a-goin like we like to see her go ! The sun ain t jes p tendin now! The ba m is in the breeze The trees ll soon be green as grass, and grass as green as trees ; The buds is all jes eechin , and the dogwood down the run Is bound to bu st out laughin fore another week is done ; The bees is wakin , gap y-like, and fnmblin fer their buzz, A-thinkin , ever-wakefuler, of other days that wuz, When all the land wuz orchard-blooms and clover, don t you know. . . . Oh, ever thing s a-goin like we like to see her go! 192 Bub Says r I^HE moon in the sky is a custard-pie, -L An the clouds is the cream pour d o er it, An* all o the glittering stars in the sky Is the powdered-sugar for it. Johnts he s proudest boy in town Cause his Mommy she cut down His Pa s pants fer Johnts an there Is nuff left fer nother pair! 357 THE HOOSIER BOOK One time, when her Ma was gone, Little Elsie she put on All her Ma s fine clothes an black Grow-grain-silk, an sealskin-sack ; Nen while she wuz flouncin out In the hall an round about, Some one knocked, an Elsie she Clean forgot an run to see Who s there at the door an saw Mighty quick it wuz her Ma. But ef she ain t saw at all, She d a-knowed her parasol! fl *>} mtcfim? b !B^I--fqj:3 *rri :kv/ ? Gran pas an Gran mas is funniest folks ! Don t be jolly, ner tell no jokes, Tell o the weather an frost an snow O that cold New Year s o long-ago ; An then they sigh at each other an cough An* talk about suddently droppin off. m i lfvl et>irob-9fft *nA Perversity T YOU have more n likely noticed, When you didn t when you could. That jes the thing you didn t do Was jes the thing you should. 358 THE HOOSIER BOOK Name Us no Names no More SIXG, oh, rarest of roundelays ! Sing the hilarity and delight Of our childhood s gurgling, giggling days! When our eyes were as twinkling-keen and bright And our laughs as thick as the stars at night, And our breasts volcanoes of pent hoo-rays ! When we grouped together in secret mirth And sniggered at everything on earth But specially when strange visitors came And we learned, for instance, that their name was Fishback or Mothershead or Philpott or Dalrymple or Fullenwider or Applewhite or Hunnicutt or Tubbs or Oldshoe ! " Oldshoe! jcminy-jce!" thinks we "Hain t that a funny name! tee-hee-hee!" -JO- -11> 21 !"["/ TH 10. ____ rlj.e >-t(fir) "JO _ JOOITT^ Barefoot racers from everywhere, We d pelt in over the back porch floor For "the settin -room," and cluster there Like a clot of bees round an apple-core, And sleeve our noses, and pinafore Our smearcase-mouths, and slick our hair, And stare and listen, and try to look Like "Agnes" does in the old school-book, Till at last we d catch the visitor s name, Redinhouse, Lippscomb, or Burlingame, or Winkler or Smock or Tutewiler or Daubenspeck or Throckmorton or Rubottom or Bixler 359 THE HOOSIER BOOK " Bi.rler! jcmlny-jce!" thinks we "Hain t that a funny name! tcc-hee-hcc!" Peace ! Let be ! Fall away ! Fetch loose ! We can t have fun as we had fun then! Shut up, Memory ! what s the use ? When the girls and boys of 8 and 10 Are now well, matronly, or old men, And Time has (so to say) "cooked our goose!" But ah ! if we only could have back The long-lost laughs that we now so lack And so vainly long for, how we could Naturely wake up the neigh-ber-/wod, over the still heterogenious names ever un rolling from the endless roster of ortho graphic actualities, such names for fur ther instance of good faith simply such names as Vanderlip or Funkhouser or Smoot or Galbreath or Frybarger or Dinwiddie or Bouslog or Puterbaugh or Longnecker or Hartpence or Wig gins or Pangborn or Bowersox "Bowersox"! Gee I Bui alas! now we Taste salt tears in our "tee-hee-hee"! oJ ^i* bfiS:tfiS>j ,>Iood-IooflD2 bio ail! ni s jo- :orn duH io~~ no) tomifooiif T 360 3HT POEMS HERE AT HOME /P5 77i* Poems Here at Home THE Poems here at Home ! Who ll write em down, Jes as they air in Country and in Town ? Sowed thick as clods is crost the fields and lanes, Er these- ere little hop-toads when it rains ! Who ll "voice" em? as I heerd a feller say At speechified on Freedom, t other day, And soared the Eagle tel, it peared to me, She wasn t bigger n a bumble-bee ! tfjo:> nornrmn 8iJO3siJuO Who ll sort em out and set em down, says I, At s got a stiddy hand enough to try To do em jestice thout a-foolin some, And headin facts off when they want to come? Who s got the lovin eye, and heart, and brain To reco nize at nothin s made in vain At the Good Bein made the bees and birds And brutes first choice, and us-folks afterwards? ITTO T A , .. What We want, as I sense it, in the line O poetry is somepin Yours and Mine Somepin with live stock in it, and out-doors, And old crick -bottoms, snags, and sycamores : Putt weeds in pizen-vines, and underbresh, As well as johnny-jump-ups, all so fresh And sassy-like ! and groun -squir ls, yes, and "We," As sayin is, "We, Us and Company!" 361 THE HOOSIER BOOK Putt in old Nature s sermonts, them s the best, And casion ly hang up a hornets nest At boys at s run away from school can git At handy-like and let em tackle it ! Let us be wrought on, of a truth, to feel Our proneness fer to hurt more than we heal, In ministratin to our vain delights Fergittin even insec s has their rights! No "Ladies Amaranth," ner "Treasury" book Ner "Night Thoughts," nuther ner no "Lally Rook" ! We want some poetry at s to Our taste, Made out o truck at s jes a-goin to waste Cause smart folks thinks it s altogether too Outrageous common cept fer me and you ! Which goes to argy, all sich poetry Is bliged to rest its hopes on You and Me. 196 Nothin to Say NOTHIN to say, my daughter! Nothin at all to say! Gyrls that s in love, I ve noticed, giner ly has their way! Yer mother did, afore you, when her folks objected to me Yit here I am and here you air ! and yer mother where is she? You look lots like yer mother : purty much same in size ; And about the same complected ; and favor about the eyes : Like her, too, about livin here, because she couldn t stay ; It ll most seem like you was dead like her! but I hain t got nothin to say! 362 THE HOOSIER BOOK She left you her little Bible writ yer name acrost the page And left her ear-bobs fer you, ef ever you come of age ; I ve alluz kep em and gyuarded em, but ef yer goin away Nothin to say, my daughter ! Nothin at all to say ! You don t rickollect her, I reckon ? No ; you wasn t a year old then ! And now yer how old air you? W y, child, not "twenty"! When? And yer nex birthday s in Aprile? and you want to git married that day? I wisht yer mother was livin ! but I hain t got nothin to say! Twenty year ! and as good a gyrl as parent ever found ! There s a straw ketched on to yer dress there I ll bresh it off turn round. (Her mother was jes twenty when us two run away.) Nothin to say, my daughter ! Nothin at all to say ! The Absence of Little Wesley SENCE little Wesley went, the place seems all so strange and still W y, I miss his yell o "Gran pap !" as I d miss the whip perwill ! And to think I ust to scold him fer his everlastin noise, When I on y rickollect him as the best o little boys ! 363 THE HOOSIER BOOK I wisht a hunderd times a day at he d come trompin* in, And all the noise he ever made was twic t as loud ag in ! It u d seem like some soft music played on some fine in strument, Longside o this loud lonesomeness, sence little Wesley went 1 Of course the clock don t tick no louder than it ust to do Yit now they s times it pears like it u d bu st itse f in two ! And let a rooster, suddent-like, crow som ers clos t around, And seems s ef, mighty nigh it, it u d lift me off the ground ! And same with all the cattle when they bawl around the bars, In the red o* airly morning, er the dusk and dew and stars, When the neighbers boys at passes never stop, but jes* go on, A-whistlin kind o to theirse v s sence little Wesley s gone ! And then, o nights, when Mother s settin up oncommon late, A-bilin pears er somepin , and I set and smoke and wait, Tel the moon out through the winder don t look bigger n a dime, And things keeps gittin stiller stiller stiller all the time, I ve ketched myse f a-wishin like as I dumb on the cheer To wind the clock, as I hev done fer more n fifty year A-wishin at the time lied come fer us to go to bed, With our last prayers, and our last tears, sence little Wes ley s dead ! 364 THE HOOSIER BOOK 198 At "The Literary FOLKS in town, I reckon, thinks They git all the fun they air Runnin loose round! but, y jinks! We* got fun, and fun to spare, Right out here amongst the ash- And oak-timber ever where ! Some folks else kin cut a dash Sides town-people, don t fergit ! Specially in winter-time, When they s snow, and roads is fit. In them circumstances I m Resig-nated to my lot Which putts me in mind o what S called "The Literary." "IIR\ a oa Sbn5"%D x?riT Us folks in the country sees Lots o fun ! Take spellin -school ; Er ole hoe-down jamborees; Er revivals ; er ef you ll Tackle taffy-pullin s you Kin git fun, and quite a few! Same with huskin s. But all these Kind o frolics they hain t new By a hunderd year er two, Cipher on it as you please ! But I ll tell you what I jest Think walks over all the rest Anyway it suits me best, That s "The Literary." THE HOOSIER BOOK First they started it " y gee !" Thinks-says-I, "this settle-ment S gittin too high-toned fer me !" But when all begin to jine, And I heerd Izory went, I jest kind o . drapped in line, Like you ve seen some sandy, thin, Scrawny shoat putt fer the crick Down some pig-trail through the thick Spice-bresh, where the whole drove s been Bout six weeks fore he gits in ! "Can t tell nothin ," I-says-ee, " Bout it tel you go and see Their blame Literary 1" Very first night I was there I was p inted to be what They call "Critic" so s a fair And square jedgment could be got On the pieces at was read, And on the debate, "Which air Most destructive element, Fire er worter ?" Then they hed Compositions on "Content," "Death," and "Botany" ; and Tomps He read one on "Dreenin Swamps" I p nounced the boss, and said, "So fur, at s the best thing read In yer Literary !" 366 THE HOOSIER BOOK Then they sung some tel I called Order, and got back ag in In the critic s cheer, and hauled All o the p formers in : Mandy Brizendine read one I f ergit ; and Doc s was "Thought" ; And Sarepty s, hern was "None Air Denied at Knocks"; and Daut Fayette Strawnse s little niece She got up and spoke a piece : Then Tzory she read hern "Best thing in the whole concern," I-says-ee ; "now le s adjourn This-here Literary !" They was some contendin yit We broke up in harmony. Road outside as white as grit, And as slick as slick could be ! I d fetched Zory in my sleigh, And I had a heap to say, Drivin back in fact, I driv Way around the old north way, Where the Daubenspeckses live. Zory allus fore that night Never peared to feel jest right T ^7 In my company. You see, On y thing on earth saved me Was that "Literary" ! ) mog TjriJtn-e is nov ifoj M *ia ?.& T JfT iin m. nud ?, : won n r/if /9ff v/orl nov IbJ o f 367 THE HOOSIER BOOK h?Il3 1 bi -9mo2 ^mi VisrfJ no.dT Dozvn to the Capital I BE N down to the Capital at Washington, D. C, Where Congerss meets and passes on the pensions ort to be Allowed to old one-legged chaps, like me, at sence the war Don t wear their pants in pairs at all and yit how proud we are! Old Flukens, from our deestrick, jes turned in and tuck and made Me sta} with him whilse I was there; and longer at I stayed The more I kep* a-wantin jes to kind o git away, And yit a-f eelin sociabler with Flukens ever day. You see I d got the idy and I guess most folks agrees At men as rich as him, you know, kin do jes what they please ; A man worth stacks o money, and a Congerssman and all, And livin in a buildin bigger n Masonic Hall ! Now mind, I m not a-faultin Fluke he made his money square : We both was Forty-niners, and both bu sted gittin there ; I weakened and onwindlassed, and he stuck and stayed and made His millions ; don t know what I m worth untel my pen sion s paid. But I was goin to tell you er a-ruther goin to try To tell you how he s livin now : gas burnin mighty nigh THE HOOSIKR BOOK In ever* room about the house ; and ever night about, Some blame reception goin on, and money goin out. They s people there from all the world jes ever kind at lives, Injuns and all! and Senaters, and Ripresentatives ; And girls, you know, jes dressed in gauze and roses I declare, And even old men shamblin round and a-waltzin with em there ! !vf p* Jair I Jfirfw l>nc rri 1 Jjjd// hii me I tJi^rfv/ ev/oii/I And bands a-tootin circus-tunes, way in some other room Jes chokin full o hothouse plants and pinies and per fume ; And fountains, squirtin stiddy all the time; and statutes, made Out o puore marble, peared-like, sneakin round there in the shade. ;?.ino lo sir! b-x>nq-<i^ifl ai^irfj t U;nJ\iVu> *t>i Us rtl" And Fluke he coaxed and begged and pled with me to tak* a hand And sashay in amongst em crutch and all, you under stand ; But when I said how tired I was, and made fer open air, He follered, and tel five o clock we set a-talkin there. "My God!" says he Fluke says to me, "I m tireder n you; Don t putt up yer tobacker tel you give a man a chew. Set back a leetle f urder in the shadder that ll do ; T x- J ^"H T A - J } S - I m tireder n you, old man ; I m tireder n you. 369 THE HOOSIER BOOK "You see that-air old dome/ says he, "humped up ag inst the sky? It s grand, first time you see it ; but it changes, by and by, And then it stays jes thataway jes anchored high and dry Betwixt the sky up yender and the achin of yer eye. "Night s purty ; not so purty, though, as what it ust to be When my first wife was livin . You remember her?" says he. I nodded-like, and Fluke went on, "I wonder now ef she Knows where I am and what I am and what I ust to be ? "That band in there! I ust to think at music couldn t wear A feller out the way it does ; but that ain t music there That s jes a imitation, and like ever thing, I swear, I hear, er see, er tetch, er taste, er tackle anywhere ! "It s all jes artificial, this- ere high-priced life of ours; The theory, it s sweet enough, tel it saps down and sours. They s no home left, ner ties o home about it. By the powers, The whole thing s artificialer n artificial flowers ! "And all I want, and could lay down and sob fer, is to know The homely things of homely life; fer instance, jes to go And set down by the kitchen stove Lord ! that u d rest me so, Jes set there, like I ust to do, and laugh and joke, you know. 370 THE HOOSIER BOOK "Jes* set there, like I ust to do," says Fluke, a-startin in, Peared-like, to say the whole thing over to hisse f ag in ; Then stopped and turned, and kind o coughed, and stooped and fumbled fer Somepin o nuther in the grass I guess his handkercher. Well, sence I m back from Washington, where I left Fluke a-still A-leggin fer me, heart and soul, on that-air pension bill, I ve half-way struck the notion, when I think o wealth and sich, They s nothin much patheticker n jes a-bein rich! 200 The Old Man and Jim OLD man never had much to say Ceptin to Jim, And Jim was the wildest boy he had And the old man jes wrapped up in him! Never heerd him speak but once Er twice in my life, and first time was When the army broke out, and Jim he went, The old man backin him, fer three months ; And all at I heerd the old man say Was, jes as we turned to start away, (\ir 11 1 i T- Well, good-by, Jim : rn i t r ,r Take keer of yourself THE HOOSIER BOOK Teared-like, he was more satisfied Jes lookin at Jim And likin him all to hisse f-like, see? Cause he was jes wrapped up in him ! And over and over I mind the day The old man come and stood round in the wa\ While we was drillin , a-watchin Jim And down at the deepo a-heerin him say, "Well, good-by, Jim : Take keer of yourse f !" Never was nothin about the farm Disting ished Jim; Neighbors all ust to wonder why The old man peared wrapped up in him : But when Cap. Biggler he writ back At Jim was the bravest boy we had In the whole dern rigiment, white er black, And his fightin good as his farmin bad At he had led, with a bullet clean Bored through his thigh, and carried the flag Through the bloodiest battle you ever seen, The old man wound up a letter to him At Cap. read to us, at said : "Tell Jim Good-by, And take keer of hisse f." Jim come home jes long enough To take the whim At he d like to go back in the calvery And the old man jes wrapped up in him! 372 THE HOOSIER BOOK Jim lowed at he d had sich luck afore, Guessed he d tackle her three years more. And the old man give him a colt he d raised. And follered him over to Camp Ben Wade, And laid around fer a week er so, Watchin Jim on dress-parade Tel finally he rid away, And last he heerd was the old man say, "Well, good-by, Jim : Take keer of yourse f !" Tuk the papers, the old man did, A-watchin fer Jim Fully believin he d make his mark Some way jes wrapped up in him! And many a time the word Vd come At stirred him up like the tap of a drum At Petersburg, fer instunce, where Jim rid right into their cannons there, And tuk em, and p inted em t other way, And socked it home to the boys in gray As they scooted fer timber, and on and on Jim a lieutenant, and one arm gone, And the old man s words in his mind all day, "Well, good-by, Jim : Take keer of yourse f !" Think of a private, now, perhaps, We ll say like Jim, At s dumb clean up to the shoulder-straps And the old man jes wrapped up in him! 373 THE HOOS1ER BOOK Think of him with the war plum through^ And the glorious old Red-White-and-Blue A-laughin the news down over Jim, And the old man, bendin over him The surgeon turnin away with tears At hadn t leaked f er years and years, As the hand of the dyin boy clung to His father s, the old voice in his ears, "Well, good-by, Jim : Take keer of yourse f 1" 2or Thoughts on the Late War I WAS for Union you, ag in it. Tears like, to me, each side was winner. Lookin at now and all at s in it. Le s go to dinner. Trr-.ttcrtyiK no bin; .tofimij i^Jp^Jocpa ^?fu zA Le s kind o jes set down together And do some pardnership forgittin Talk, say, for instunce, bout the weather, Or somepin fittin . The war, you know, s all done and ended, And ain t changed no p ints o the compass ; Both North and South the health s jes splendid As fore the rumpus. 374 THE HOOSIER BOOK The old farms and the old plantations Still ockipies the r old positions. Le s git back to old situations And old ambitions. Le s let up on this blame , infernal Tongue-lashin and lap-jacket vauntin , And git back home to the eternal Ca m we re a-wantin . Peace kind o sort o suits my diet When women does my cookin for me; Ther wasn t overly much pie et Dunn the army. 202 The Old Band IT S mighty good to git back to the old town, shore, Considerin I ve be n away twenty year and more. Sence I moved then to Kansas, of course I see a change A-comin back, and notice things that s new to me and strange ; Especially at evening when yer new band-fellers meet, In fancy uniforms and all, and play out on the street . . . What s come of old Bill Lindsey and the Saxhorn fellers say? I want to hear the old band play. 375 THE HOOSIER BOOK What s come of Eastman, and Nat Snow? And where s War Barnett at? And Nate and Bony Meek; Bill Hart; Tom Richa son and that Air brother of him played the drum as twic t as big as Jim ; And old Hi Kerns, the carpenter say, what s become o him? I make no doubt yer new band now s a compctenter band) And plays their music more by note than what they play by hand, And stylisher and grander tunes; but somehow any way, I want to hear the old band play. Sich tunes as "John Brown s Body" and "Sweet Alice." don t you know ; And "The Camels Is A-Comin ," and "John Anderson, My Jo" ; And a dozent others of em "Number Nine" and "Number Leven" Was tavo-rites that fairly made a feller dream o Heaven. And when the boys u d saranade, I ve laid so still in bed I ve even heerd the locus -blossoms droppin on the shed When "Lily Dale," er "Hazel Dell," had sobbed and died away . . . I want to hear the old band play. 376 THE HOOSIER BOOK Ver new band ma by beats it, but the old band s what I said It allus peared to kind o chord with somepin in my head; And, whilse I m no musicianer, when my blame* eyes is jes Nigh drownded out, and Mem ry squares her jaws and sort o says She won t ner never will fergit, I want to jes turn in And take and light right out o here and git back West ag in And stay there, when I git there, where I never haf to say I want to hear the old band play. 2O$ "Last Christmas Was a Year Ago" ,To frjv/uiul -afl gequ 7:?T\o oT THE OLD LADY SPEAKS L^-ST Christmas was a year ago, Says I to David, I-says-I, "We re goin to morning service, so You hitch up right away : I ll try To tell the girls jes what to do Per dinner. We ll be back by two." I didn t wait to hear what he Would more n like say back to me, But banged the stable door and flev/ Back to the house, jes plumb chilled through. 377 THE HOOSIER BOOK Cold! Wooh! how cold it was ! My-oh! Frost flyin , and the air, you know, "Jes sharp enough," heerd David swear, "To shave a man and cut his hair !" And blow and blow ! and snow and snow ! Where it had drifted long the fence And crost the road, some places, though, Jes swep clean to the gravel, so The goin was as bad fer sleighs As twas fer wagons, and both ways, Twixt snow-drifts and the bare ground, I ve Jes wundered we got through alive ; I hain t saw nothin , fore er sence, At beat it anywheres, I know Last Christmas was a year ago. And David said, as we set out, At Christmas services was bout As cold and wuthless kind o love To offer up as he knowed of ; And as fer him, he railly thought At the Good Bein up above Would think more of us as He ought A-stayin* home on sich a day, And thankin of Him thataway! And jawed on, in an undertone, Bout leayin Lide and Jane alone There on the place, and me not there To oversee em, and p pare The stuffin fer the turkey, and The sass and all, you understand. 378 THE HOOSIER BOOK I ve allus managed David by Jes sayin no thin . That was why He d chased Lide s beau away cause Lide She d allus take up Perry s side When David tackled him ; and so, Last Christmas was a year ago, Er ruther, bout a u eek afore, David and Perry d quarr l d about Some torn-fool argyment, you know, And Pap told him to "Jes git out O there, and not to come no more, And, when he went, to shet the door !" And as he passed the winder, we Saw Perry, white as white could be, March past, onhitch his hoss, and light A see-gyar, and lope out o sight. Then Lide she come to me and cried ! And I said nothin* was no need. And yit, you know, that man jes got Right out o there s ef he d be n shot, P tendin he must go and feed The stock er somepin . Then I tried To git the pore girl pacified. But, gittin* back to where was we? Oh, yes ! where David lectered me All way to meetin , high and low, Last Christmas was a year ago : Fer all the awful cold, they was A fair attendunce ; mostly, though, The crowd was round the stoves, you see, Thawin their heels and scrougin us. 379 THE HOOSIER BOOK Ef t adn t be n fer the old Squire Givin his seat to us, as in We stomped, a-fairly perishin , And David could a got no fire, He d jes a drapped there in his tracks: And Squire, as I was tryin to yit Make room fer him, says, "No ; the f ac s Is, / got to git up and git Ithout no preachin . Jes got word Trial fer life can t be deferred !" And out he putt ! And all way through The sermont and a long one, too I couldn t he p but think o Squire And us changed round so, and admire His gintle ways, to give his warm Bench up, and have to face the storm. And when I noticed David he Was needin jabbin I thought best To kind o sort o let him rest : Peared-like he slep so peacefully ! And then I thought o home, and how And what the gyrls was doin now, And kind o prayed, way in my breast, And breshed away a tear er two As David waked, and church was through. By time we d "howdyed" round and shuck Hands with neighbers, must a tuck ,<M lliyifOTja bttfi frl-rHl "ii-j Jl fllV/fillT THE HOOSIER BOOK A half hour longer : ever one A-sayin "Christmas gift!" afore David er me so we got none ! But David warmed up, more and more, And got so jokey-like, and had His sperits up, and peared so glad, I whispered to him, "S pose you ast A passel of em come and eat Their dinners with us. Gyrls s got A full-and-plenty fer the lot And all their kin !" So David passed The invite round : and ever seat In ever wagon-bed and sleigh Was jes packed, as we rode away, The young folks, mil d er so along, A-strikin up a sleighin -song, Tel David laughed and yelled, you know, And jes whirped up and sent the snow And gravel flyin thick and fast Last Christmas was a year ago. W y, that-air seven-mil d ja nt we come Jes seven mil d scant from church to home It didn t pear, that day, to be Much furder railly n bout three! But I was purty squeamish by The time home hove in sight and I See two vehickles standin there Already. So says I, "Prepare!" All to myse f. And presently David he sobered ; and says he, " G>}$ n} A I .rnrri >koi ni> -jjH i. -l 381 THE HOOSIER BOOK "Hain t that-air Squire Hanch s old Buggy," he says, "and claybank mare?" Says I, "Le s git in out the cold Your company s nigh bout froze!" He says, "Whose sleigh s that-air, a-standin there?" Says I, "It s no odds zvhose you jes Drive to the house and let us out, Cause we re jes freezin , nigh about!" Well, David swung up to the door, And out we piled. And first I heerd Jane s voice, then Lide s, I thought afore I reached that gyrl I d jes die, shore; And when I reached her, wouldn t keered Much ef I had, I was so glad, A-kissin her through my green veil, And jes excitin her so bad, At she broke down herse f and Jane, She cried and we all hugged again. And David? David jes turned pale! Looked at the gyrls, and then at me, Then at the open door and then "Is old Squire Hanch in there?" says he. The old Squire suddently stood in The doorway, with a sneakin grin. "Is Perry Anders in there, too?" Says David, limberin all through, As Lide and me both grabbed him, and Perry stepped out and waved his hand And says, "Yes, Pap." And David jes Stooped and kissed Lide, and says, "I guess Yer mother s much to blame as you. Ef she kin resk him, I kin too !" 382 THE HOOSIER BOOK The dinner we had then hain t no Bit better n the one to-day At we ll have fer em. Hear some sleigh A-jinglin now. David, fer me, I wish you d jes go out and see Ef they re in sight yit. It jes does Me good to think, in times like these, Lide s done so well. And David, he s More tractabler n what he was Last Christmas was a year ago. 204 Coin to the Fair OLD STYLE WHEN Me an my Ma an Pa went to the Fair Ma borried Mizz Rollins-uz rigg to go there, Cause our buggy s new, an Ma says, "Mercy-sake ! It wouldn t hold half the folks she s go to take !" An she took Marindy, an Jane s twins, an Jo, An Aunty Van Meters-uz girls an old Slo Magee, at s so fat, come a-scrougin in there, When me an my Ma an Pa went to the Fair ! ?,O^ The road s full o loads-full ist ready to bu st, An all hot, an smokin an chokin with dust ; The Wolffs an their wagon, an Brizentines, too An horses ist r ared when the toot-cars come through ! 383 THE HOOSIER BOOK An way from fur off we could hear the band play, An peoples all there u d ist whoop an hooray ! An I stood on the dash-board, an Pa boost me there Most high as the fence, when we went to the Fair ! An when we uz there an inside, we could see Wher the flag s on a pole wher a show s go to be ; An boys up in trees, an the grea -big balloon At didn t goned up a-tall, all afternoon ! An a man in the crowd there gived money away An Pa says "he d ruther earn his by the day !" An he gim-me some, an says "ain t nothin there Too good f er his boy," when we went to the Fair ! Wisht The Raggedy Man wuz there, too ! but he says, "Don t talk fairs to me, child ! I went to one ; yes, An they wuz a swing there ye rode an I rode, An a thing-um-a-jing at ye bio wed an I bio wed ; An they wuz a game at ye played an I played, An a hitch in the same wher ye paid an I paid ; An* they wuz two bad to one good peoples there Like you an your Pa an Ma went to the Fair !" Fessler s Bees bout yer bees," says Ike, Speakin slow and ser ous-like, "D f ever tell you bout old Bee Old Bee Fessler?" Ike-says-he! 384 THE HOOSIER BOOK "Might call him a bee-expert, When it come to handlin bees, Roll the sleeves up of his shirt And wade in amongst the trees Where a swarm Vd settle, and Blam est man on top of dirt! Rake em with his naked hand Right back in the hive ag in, Jes as easy as you please ! Nary bte at split the breeze Ever jabbed a stinger in Old Bee Fessler jes in fun, Er in airnest nary one ! Couldn t agg one on to, nuther, Ary one way er the other ! "Old Bee Fessler," Ike says-he, "Made a speshyality Jes o bees ; and built a shed Len th about a half a mild ! Had about a thousan head O hives, I reckon tame and wild ! Durndest buzzin ever wuz Wuss n telegraph-poles does When they re sockin home the news Tight as they kin let er loose ! Visitors rag out and come Clean from town to hear em hum, And stop at the kivered bridge ; But wuz some u d cross the ridge Allus, and go clos ter so s They could see em hum, I s pose ! 385 THE HOOSIER BOOK Peared-like strangers down that track Allus met folks comin back Lookin extry fat and hearty Fer a city picnic party ! " Fore he went to Floridy, Old Bee Fessler," Ike says-he "Old Bee* Fessler couldn t bide Childern on his place," says Ike. "Yit, fer all, they d climb inside And tromp round there, keerless-like, In their bare feet. Bee could tell Ev ry town-boy by his yell So s at when they bounced the fence, Didn t make no difference! He d jes* git down on one knee In the grass and pat the bee ! And, ef t adn t stayed stuck in, Fess u d set the sting ag in, N potter off, and wait around Fer the old famillyer sound. Allus boys there, more or less, Scootin round the premises ! When the buckwheat wuz in bloom, Lawzy ! how them bees u d boom Round the boys at crossed that way Fer the crick on Saturday ! Never seemed to me su prisin At the sting o bees uz p izin ! " Fore he went to Floridy," Ike says, "nothin* bout a bee 386 THE HOOSIER BOOK At old Fessler didn t know, W y, it jes peared-like at he Knowed their language, high and low : Claimed he told jes by their buzz What their wants and wishes wuz ! Peek in them-air little holes Round the porches o the hive Drat their pesky little souls ! Could a skinned the man alive ! Bore right in there with his thumb, And squat down and scrape the gum Outen ev ry hole, and blow N bresh the crumbs off, don t you know ! Take the roof off, and slide back Them-air glass concerns they pack Full o honey, and jes lean N grabble mongst em f er the queen 1 Fetch her out and show you to her Jes , you might say, interview her ! "Year er two," says Ike, says-he, " Fore he went to Floridy, Fessler struck the theory, Honey was the same as love You could make it day and night : Said them bees o his could be Got jes twic t the work out of Ef a feller managed right. He contended ef bees found Blossoms all the year around, He could git em down at once To work all the winter months 387 THE HOOSIER BOOK Same as summer. So, one fall, When their summer s work wtiz done, Bee turns in and robs em all ; Loads the hives then, one by one, On the cyars, and lowed he d see Ef bees loafed in Floridy! Said he bet he d know the reason Ef his didn t work that season ! "And," says Ike, "it s jes ," says-he, "Like old Fessler says to me : Any man kin fool a bee, Git him down in Floridy ! Teared at fust, as old Bee said, Fer to kind o turn their head Fer a spell ; but, bless you ! they Didn t lose a half a day Altogether ! Jes lit in Them-air tropics, and them-air Cacktusses a-ripen-nirr", N magnolyers, and sweet-peas, N simmon and pineapple trees, J N ripe bananers, here and there, N dates a-danglin in the breeze, N figs and reezins ev rywhere, All waitin jes fer Fessler s bees! N Fessler s bees, with gaumy wings, A-gittin down and who o pin things ! Fessler kind o overseein Em, and sort o hee-o-heein ! " Fore he went to Floridy, Old Bee Fessler," Ike says-he, 388 THE HOOSIER BOOK "Wuzn t counted, jes to say, Mean er or n ry anyway ; On y ev ry tarnel dime At u d pass him on the road He d ketch up with, ev ry time ; And no mortal ever knowed Him to spend a copper cent Less on some fool- speriment With them bees like that-un he Played on em in Floridy. Fess , of course, he tuck his ease, But twuz bilious on the bees ! Sweat, you know, u d jes stand out On their forreds pant and groan, And grunt round and limp about ! And old Bee, o course, a-knowin Twuzn t no fair shake to play On them pore dumb insecks, ner To abuse em thataway. Bees has rights, I m here to say, And that s all they ast him f er ! Man as mean as that, jes pears, Could V worked bees on the sheers ! Cleared big money well, I guess, Bee shipped honey, more er less, Into ev ry state, perhaps, Ever putt down in the maps ! "But by time he fetched em back In the spring ag in," says Ike, "They wuz actin s picious-like : Though they peared to lost the track 389 THE HOOSIER BOOK O ev rything they saw er heard, They d lay round the porch, and gap* At their shadders in the sun, Do-less like, ontel some bird Suddently u d maybe drap In a bloomin churry tree, Twitterin a tune at run In their minds f amiliously ! They d revive up, kind o , then, Like they argied : Well, it s be n The most longest summer we Ever saw er want to see ! Must be right, though, er old "Bee" U d notify us! they says-ee; And they d sort o square their chin And git down to work ag in Moanin round their honey-makin , Kind o like their head was achin . Tetchin fer to see how they Trusted Fessler thataway Him a-lazin round, and smirkin To hisse f to see em workin ! wife -*fi rio iwHl &9#ww V Mr/,/ > "But old Bee/ " says Ike, says-he "Now where is he ? Where s he gone ? Where s the head he helt so free? Where s his pride and vanity? What s his hopes a-restin on? Never knowed a man," says Ike, "Take advantage of a bee, At affliction didn t strike Round in that vicinity ! 390 THE HOOSIER BOOK Sinners allus suffers some, And old Fessler s reck nin* come ! That-air man to-day is jes Like the grass at Scriptur says Cometh up, and then turns in And jes gits cut down ag in ! Old Bee Fessler," Ike says-he, "Says, last fall, says he to me Ike, says he, them bees has jes Ciphered out my or n riness ! Nary bee in ary swarm On the whole endurin farm Won t have nothin more to do With a man as mean as I ve Be n to them, last year er two ! Nary bee in ary hive But ll turn his face away, Like they ort, whenever they Hear my footprints drawin nigh !* And old Bee, he d sort o shy Round oiieasy in his cheer, Wipe his eyes, and yit the sap, Spite o all, u d haf to drap, As he wound up : Wouldn t keer Quite so much ef they d jes light In and settle things up right, Like they ort ; but blame the thing ! Pears-like they won t even sting! Pepper me, the way I felt, And I d thank em, ev ry welt ! And as miz able and mean As Bee looked, ef you d a seen 391 THE HOOSIER BOOK Them-air hungry eyes," says Ike, "You d fergive him, more n like. "Wisht you had a knowed old Bee* Fore he went to Floridy!" 206 "Tmdin Joe" I M one o these cur ous kind o* chaps You think you know when you don t, perhaps ! I hain t no fool ner I don t p tend To be so smart I could rickommend Myself f er a conger ssman, my friend ! But I m kind o betwixt-and-between, you know, One o these fellers at folks calls "slow." And I ll say jest here I m kind o queer Regardin things at I see and hear, Per I m thick o hear in sometimes, and It s hard to git me to understand ; But other times it hain t, you bet ! Per I don t sleep with both eyes shet ! I ve swapped a power in stock, and so The neighbers calls me "Tradin* Joe" And I m goin to tell you bout a trade, And one o the best I ever made : Folks has gone so fur s to say At I m well fixed, in a worldly way, And be in so, and a widower, It s not su prisin , as you ll infer, .392 THE HOOSIER BOOK I m purty handy among the sect Widders especially, rickollect! And I won t deny that along o late I ve hankered a heap fer the married state- But some way o nother the longer we wait The harder it is to discover a mate. Marshall Thomas, a friend o mine, Doin some in the tradin line, But a most too young to know it all On y at picnics er some ball! Says to me, in a banterin* way, As we was a-loaclin stock one day, "You re a-huntin a wife, and I want you to see My girl s mother, at Kankakee ! She hain t over forty good-lookin and spry, And jest the woman to fill your eye! And I m a-goin there Sund y, and now," says he, "I want to take you along with me; And you marry her, and," he says, "by shaw ! You ll hev me fer yer son-in-law !" I studied a while, and says I, "Well, I ll First have to see ef she suits my style; And ef she does, you kin bet your life Your mother-in-law will be my wife !" Well, Sund y come ; and I fixed up some- Putt on a collar I did, by gum ! Got down my "plug," and my satin vest (You wouldn t know me to see me dressed ! But any one knows ef you got the clothes You kin go in the crowd wher the best of em goes !) 393 THE HOOSIER BOOK And I greeced my boots, and combed my hair Keerfully over the bald place there ; And Marshall Thomas and me that day Eat our dinners with Widder Gray And her girl Han ! . . -V i: * Well, jest a glance O the widder s smilin countenance, A-cuttin up chicken and big pot-pies, Would make a man hungry in Paradise ! And passin p serves and jelly and cake At would make an angel s appetite ache! Pourin out coffee as yaller as gold Twic t as much as the cup could hold La ! it was rich ! And then she d say, "Take some o this!" in her coaxin way, Tel ef I d been a hoss I d a foundered, shore, And jest dropped dead on her white-oak floor! Well, the way I talked would a done you good, Ef you d a been there to a understood ; Tel I noticed Hanner and Marshall, they Was a-noticin* me in a cur ous way ; So I says to myse f, says I, "Now, Joe, The best thing fer you is to jest go slow !" And I simmered down, and let them do The bulk o the talkin the evening through. And Marshall was still in a talkative gait When we left, that evening tolable late. "How do you like her?" he says to me; Says I, "She suits, to a t-y-Tee !" 394 THE HOOSIER BOOK And then I ast how matters stood With him in the opposite neighberhood? "Bully !" he says ; "I ruther guess I ll finally git her to say the *y es - I named it to her to-night, and she Kind o smiled, and said she d see And that s a purty good sign !" says he : "Yes," says I, "you re ahead o* me!" And then he laughed, and said, "Go in!" And patted me on the shoulder ag in. Well, ever sense then I ve been ridin a good Deal through the Kankakee neighberhood ; And I make it convenient sometimes to stop And hitch a few minutes, and kind o drop In at the widder s, and talk o the crop And one thing o nother. And week afore last The notion struck me, as I drove past, I d stop at the place and state my case Might as well do it at first as last ! I felt first-rate ; so I hitched at the gate, And went up to the house ; and, strange to relate, Marshall Thomas had dropped in, too. "Glad to see you, sir, how do you do ?" He says, says he ! Well it sounded queer; And when Han told me to take a cheer, Marshall got up and putt out o the room And motioned his hand fer the widder to come. I didn t say nothin fer quite a spell, But thinks I to myse f, "There s a dog in the well !" 395 THE HOOSIER BOOK And Han she smiled so cur ous at me Says I, "What s up ?" And she says, says she, "Marshall s been at me to marry ag in, And I told him no, jest as you come in. 5 Well, somepin o nother in that girl s voice Says to me, "Joseph, here s your choice !" And another minute her guileless breast Was lovin ly throbbin ag in my vest ! And then I kissed her, and heerd a smack Come like a echo, a-flutterin back, And we looked around, and in full view Marshall was kissin the widder, too ! Well, we all of us laughed, in our glad su prise, Tel the tears come a-streamin out of our eyes ! And when Marsh said " Twas the squarest trade That ever me and him had made," We both shuck hands, y jucks ! and swore We d stick together ferevermore. And old Squire Chipman tuck us the trip : And Marshall and me s in pardnership ! 207 Uncle Williams Picture --.o<rt ,nf fcKjqbib f>nr! iwmoA Y UNCLE WILLIAM, last July, Had his picture took. "Have it done, of course," says I, "Jes* the way you look !" (All dressed up, he was, fer the Barbecue and jubilee The old settlers helt.) So he Last he had it took. 396 THE HOOSIER BOOK Lide she d coaxed and begged and pled, Sence her mother went ; But he d cough and shake his head At all argyment; Mebby clear his th oat and say, "What s my likeness mount to, hey, Now with Mother gone away From us, like she went?" But we projicked round, tel we Got it figgered down How we d git him, Lide and me, Drivin into town; Bragged how well he looked and fleshec Up around the face, and freshed With the morning air ; and breshed His coat-collar down. All so providential ! W y, Now he s dead and gone, Picture pears so lifelike I Want to start him on Them old tales he ust to tell, And old talks so sociable, And old songs he sung so well Fore his voice was gone ! Face is sad to Lide, and they s Sorrow in the eyes Kisses it sometimes, and lays It away and cries. 397 THE HOOSIER BOOK I smooth down her hair, and low He is happy, anyhow, Bein there with Mother now, Smile, and wipe my eyes. 208 Squire Hawkins s Story I HAIN T no hand at teilin tales, Er spinnin yarns, as the sailors say; Someway o nother, language fails To slide fer me in the oily way That lawyers has ; and I wisht it would, Fer I ve got somepin that I call good ; But bein only a country squire, I ve learned to listen and admire, Ruther pref errin to be addressed Than talk myse f but I ll do my best : no miff .mta ot )ni>7/ Old Jeff Thompson well, I ll say, Was the clos test man I ever saw ! Rich as cream, but the poorest pay, And the meanest man to work fer La ! I ve knowed that man to work one "hand"- Fer little er nothin , you understand From four o clock in the morning light Tel eight and nine o clock at night, And then find fault with his appetite ! THE HOOSIER BOOK He d drive all over the neighberhood To miss the place where a toll-gate stood, And slip in town, by some old road That no two men in the county knowed, With a jag o wood, and a sack o wheat, That wouldn t burn and you couldn t eat 1 And the trades he d make, 11 I jest de-clare, Was enough to make a preacher swear ! And then he d hitch, and hang about Tel the lights in the toll-gate was blowed out, And then the turnpike he d turn in And sneak his way back home ag in 1 Some folks hint, and I make no doubt, That that s what wore his old wife out Toilin away from day to day And year to year, through heat and cold, Uncomplainin the same old way The martyrs died in the days of old ; And a-clingin , too, as the martyrs done, To one fixed faith, and her only one, Little Patience, the sweetest child That ever wept unrickonciled, Er felt the pain and the ache and sting That only a mother s death can bring. Patience Thompson ! I think that name Must a come from a power above, Fer it seemed to fit her jest the same As a gaiter would, er a fine kid glove I And to see that girl, with all the care Of the household on her I de-clare 399 THE IIOOSIER BOOK It was audacious, the work she d do, And the thousand plans that she d putt through And sing like a medder-lark all day long, And drownd her cares in the joys o* song; And laugh sometimes tel the farmer s "hand," Away fur off in the fields, would stand A-listenin , with the plow half drawn, Tel the coaxin echoes called him on ; And the furries seemed, in his dreamy eyes, Like foot-paths a-leadin to Paradise, As off through the hazy atmosphere The call fer dinner reached his ear. Now love s as cunnin a little thing As a hummin -bird upon the wing, And as liable to poke his nose Jest where folks would least suppose, And more n likely build his nest Right in the heart you d leave unguessed, And live and thrive at your expense At least, that s my experience. And old Jeff Thompson often thought, In his se fish way, that the quiet John Was a stiddy chap, as a farm-hand ought To always be, fer the airliest dawn Found John busy and "easy," too, Whenever his wages would fall due ! To sum him up with a final touch, He eat so little and worked so much, That old Jeff laughed to hisse f and said, " He makes me money and aims his bread !" Difib- ..:!.> I--t3rf no Wu.toenoH v 400 THE HOOSIER BOOK But John, fer all of his quietude, Would sometimes drap a word er $,_,; That none but Patience understood, And none but her was meant to know ! Maybe at meal-times John would say, As the sugar-bowl come down his way, "Thanky, no ; my coffee s sweet Enough fer me!" with sich conceit, She d know at once, without no doubt, He meant because she poured it out ; And smile and blush, and all sich stuff, And ast ef it was "strong enough?" And git the answer, neat and trim, "It couldn t be too strong fer him !" V{ew-^bm* nr ,tifi-tef{Jo JuH And so things went fer bout a year, Tel John, at last, found pluck to go And pour his tale in the old man s ear And ef it had been hot lead, I know It couldn t a raised a louder fuss, Ner a riled the old man s temper wuss ! He jest lit in, and cussed and swore, And lunged and rared, and ripped and tore And told John jest to leave his door, And not to darken it no more ! But Patience cried, with eyes all wet, "Remember, John, and don t ferget, Whatever comes, I love you yet!" But the old man thought, in his se fish way, "I ll see her married rich some day ; And that," thinks he, "is money fer me And my will s law, as it ought to be !" 401 THE HOOSIER BOOK So when, in the course of a month er so, A widower, with a farm er two, Comes to Jeff s, w y, the folks, you know, Had to talk as the f olks ll do : It was the talk of the neighberhood Patience and John, and their affairs ; And this old chap with a few gray hairs Had "cut John out," it was understood. And some folks reckoned "Patience, too, Knowed what she was a-goin to do It was like her la 1 indeed ! All she loved was dollars and cents Like old Jeff and they saw no need Fer John to pine at her negligence !" But others said, in a kinder way, They missed the songs she used to sing They missed the smiles that used to play Over her face, and the laughin ring Of her glad voice that ^<>r;ything Of her old se f seemed dead and gone, And this was the ghost that they gazed onl Tel finally it was noised about There was a weddin soon to be Down at Jeff s ; and the "cat was out" Shore enough ! LI the Jee-mun-nee! It riled me when John told me so, Fer / was a friend o John s, you know; And his trimblin voice jest broke in two As a feller s voice ll sometimes do. And I says, says I, "Ef I know my biz And I think I know what jestice is, 402 THE HOOSIER BOOK I ve read some law and I d advise A man like you to wipe his eyes, And square his jaws and start ag in, Per jestice is a-goin to win!" And it wasn t long tel his eyes had cleared As blue as the skies, and the sun appeared In the shape of a good old-fashioned smile That I hadn t seen fer a long, long while. So we talked on fer a hour er more, And sunned ourselves in the open door, Tel a hoss-and-buggy down the road Come a-drivin up, that I guess John knowed, Fer he winked and says, "I ll dessappear They d smell a mice ef they saw me here !" And he thumbed his nose at the old gray mare, And hid hisse f in the house somewhere. Well. The rig drove up : and I raised my head As old Jeff hollered to me and said That "him and his old friend there had come To see ef the squire was at home." ... I told em "I was ; and I aimed to be At every chance of a weddin -fee !" And then I laughed and they laughed, too, Fer that was the object they had in view. "Would I be on hands at eight that night ?" They ast ; and s-I, "You re mighty right, / // be on hands !" And then I bu st Out a-laughin my very wu st, And so did they, as they wheeled away And drove to rds town in a cloud o dust. 403 THE HOOSIER BOOK Then I shet the door, and me and John Laughed and laughed, and jest laughed on< ; Tel Mother drapped her specs, and by Jeewhillikers! I thought she d die! And she couldn t a told, I ll bet my hat, What on earth she was laughin at ! <)iiir>t b jnotdiiiJUMo fcuog fi-3o. yqufh 5ifj ril But all o the fun o the tale hain t done I Fer a drizzlin rain had jest begun, And a-havin bout four mile to ride, I jest concluded I d better light Out fer Jeff s and save my hide, Fer it was a-goin to storm, that night! So we went down to the barn, and John Saddled my beast, and I got on ; And he told me somepin to not ferget, And when I left, he was laughin yet. And, proachin on to my journey s end, The great big draps o the rain come down, And the thunder growled in a way to lend An awful look to the lowerin frown The dull sky wore ; and the lightnin glanced Tel my old mare jest morc n pranced, And tossed her head, and bugged her eyes To about four times their natchurl size, As the big black lips of the clouds nd drap Out some oath of a thunder-clap, And threaten on in an undertone That chilled a feller clean to the bone ! Je#k V Imofo x-, hi jiwoj *[>i\>} yvoih bnA 404 THE HOOSIER BOOK But I struck shelter soon enough To save myse f. And the house was jammed With the women-folks, and the weddin -stuff : A great, long table, fairly crammed With big pound-cakes and chops and steaks And roasts and stews and stumick-aches Of every fashion, form, and size, From twisters up to punkin-pies ! And candies, oranges, and figs, And reezins, all the "whilligigs" And "jim-cracks" that the law allows On sich occasions ! Bobs and bows Of gigglin girls, with corkscrew curls, And fancy ribbons, reds and blues, And "beau-ketchers" and "curliques" To beat the world ! And seven o clock Brought old Jeff; and brought the groom, With a sideboard-collar on, and stock That choked him so, he hadn t room To swallcr in, er even sneeze, Er clear his th oat with any ease Er comfort and a good square cough Would saw his Adam s apple off ! t U*Ui :3o*:l>tt6 no >ioo! i[ oT But as fer Patience My! Qomh-oomh! I never saw her look so sweet ! Her face was cream and roses, too ; And then them eyes o heavenly blue Jest made an angel all complete ! And when she split em up in smiles And splintered em around the room, And danced acrost and met the groom, 405 THE HOOSIER BOOK And laughed out loud It kind o* spiles My language when I come to that Fer, as she laid away his hat, Thinks I, "The papers hid inside Of that said hat must make a bride A happy one fer all her life, Er else a wrecked and wretched wife!" And, someway, then, I thought of John, Then looked towards Patience. . . . She was <70<?/- The door stood open, and the rain Was dashin in ; and sharp and plain Above the storm we heerd a cry A ringin , laughin , loud "Good-by !" That died away, as fleet and fast A hoss s hoofs went splashin past ! And that was all. Twas done that quick ! You ve heerd o fellers "lookin sick" ? I wisht you d seen the groom jest then I wisht you d seen them two old men, With starin eyes that fairly glared At one another, and the scared And empty faces of the crowd, I wisht you could a been allowed To jest look on and see it all, And heerd the girls and women bawl And wring their hands ; and heerd old Jeff A-cussin as he swung hisse f Upon his hoss, who champed his bit As though old Nick had holt of it : And cheek by jowl the two old wrecks Rode off as though they d break their necks. 406 THE HOOSIER BOOK And as we all stood starin out Into the night, I felt the brush Of some one s hand, and turned about, And heerd a voice that whispered, "Hush!- They re waitin in the kitchen, and You re wanted. Don t you understand?" Well, ef my memory serves me now, I think I winked. Well, anyhow, I left the crowd a-gawkin there, And jest slipped off around to where The back door opened, and went in, And turned and shet the door ag in, And maybe locked it couldn t swear, A woman s arms around me makes Me liable to make mistakes. I read a marriage license nex , But as I didn t have my specs I jest inferred it was all right, And tied the knot so mortal-tight That Patience and my old friend John Was safe enough from that time on ! Well now I might go on and tell How all the joke at last leaked out, And how the youngsters raised the yell And rode the happy groom about Upon their shoulders ; how the bride Was kissed a hunderd times beside The one 7 give her, tel she cried And laughed untel she like to died ! I might go on and tell you all About the supper and the ball. 407 THE HOOSIER BOOK You d ought to see me twist my heel Through jest one old Furginny reel Afore you die! er tromp the strings Of some old fiddle tel she sings Some old cowtillion, don t you know, That putts the devil in yer toe ! We kep the dancin up tel four O clock, I reckon maybe more. We hardly heerd the thunders roar, Er thought about the storm that blowed And them two fellers on the road! Tel all at onc t we heerd the door Bu st open, and a voice that swore, And old Jeff Thompson tuck the floor. He shuck hisse f and looked around Like some old dog about half-drowned His hat, I reckon, weighed ten pound To say the least, and I ll say, shore, His overcoat weighed fifty more The wettest man you ever saw, To have so dry a son-in-law! He sized it all ; and Patience laid Her hand in John s, and looked afraid, And waited. And a stiller set O folks, I know, you never met In any court room, where with dread They wait to hear a verdick read. The old man turned his eyes on me : "And have you married em ?" says he. 408 THE HOOSIER BOOK 1 nodded "Yes." "Well, that ll do," He says, "and now we re th ough with you, You jest clear out, and I decide And promise to be satisfied !" He hadn t nothin more to say. I saw, of course, how matters lay, And left. But as I rode away I heerd the roosters crow fer day. 209 The Truly Marvelous IUNTS is the biggest mens they air In all this world er anywhere! An* Tom Thumb he s the most little-est man, Cause wunst he lived in a oyshture-can ! 210 The Spoiled Child /^AUSE Herbert Graham s a only child- V>< "Wuz I there, Ma?" His parunts uz got him purt nigh spiled "Wuz I there, Ma?" Allus ever where his Ma tells Where she s bin at, little Herbert yells, "Wuz I there, Ma?" 409 THE HOOSIER BOOK An when she telled us wunst when she Wuz ist bout big as him an me, W y, little Herbert he says, says-ee, "Wuz I there, Ma?" Foolishest young-un you ever saw. "Wuz I there, Ma? Wuz I there, Ma?" 211 The Doodle-Bugs s Charm WHEN Uncle Sidney he comes here An* Fred an me an Min, My Ma she says she bet you yet The roof ll tumble in ! Fer Uncle he ist romps with us : An wunst, out in our shed, He telled us bout the Doodle-Bugs, An what they ll do, he said, Ef you ll ist holler "Doodle-Bugs !" Out by our garden-bed "Doodle-Bugs ! Doodle-Bugs ! Come up an git some bread !" Ain t Uncle Sidney funny man? "He s childish most as me" My Ma sometimes she tells him that "He ac s so foolishly!" W y, wunst, out in our garden-path, Wite by the pie-plant bed, He all sprawled out there in the dirt An ist scrooched down his head, 410 THE HOOSIER BOOK An "Doodle ! Doodle ! Doodle-Bugs ! My Uncle Sidney said, "Doodle-Bugs ! Doodle-Bugs ! Come up an git some bread !" An nen he showed us little holes All bored there in the ground, An little weenty heaps o dust At s piled there all around : An Uncle said, when he s like us, Er purt nigh big as Fred, That wuz the Doodle-Bugs s Charm- To call em up, he said : "Doodle! Doodle! Doodle-Bugs!" An they d poke out their head "Doodle-Bugs ! Doodle-Bugs ! Come up an git some bread !" Little Cousin Jasper EFTLE Cousin Jasper, he Don t live in this town, like me, He lives way to Rensselaer, An ist comes to visit here. He says at our court-house square Ain t nigh big as theirn is there ! He says their town s big as four Er five towns like this, an more 1 411 THE HOOSIER BOOK He says ef his folks moved here He d cry to leave Rensselaer Cause they s prairies there, an lakes. An wile-ducks an rattlesnakes! Yes, V little Jasper s Pa Shoots most things you ever saw ! Wunst he shot a deer, one day, At swummed off an got away. Little Cousin Jasper went An camped out wunst in a tent Wiv his Pa, an helt his gun While he kilt a turrapun. An when his Ma heerd o that, An more things his Pa s bin at, She says, "Yes, n he ll git shot Fore he s man-grown, like as not ! :> An they s mussrats there, an minks : An* di-dippers, an chee-winks, Yes, n cal mus-root you chew All up an t on t pizen you ! An , in town, s a flag-pole there Highest one at s anywhere In this world ! wite in the street Where the big mass-meetin s meet. Yes, n Jasper he says they Got a brass band there, an play On it, an march up an down An all over round the town ! 412 THE HOOSIER BOOK Wisht our town ain t like it is ! Wisht it s ist as big as his ! Wisht at his folks they d move here, An* we d move to Rensselaer ! 213 The Bee-Bag WHEN I was ist a Brownie a weenty-teenty Brownie Long afore I got to be like Childerns is to-day, My good old Brownie granny gimme sweeter thing an can y An at s my little bee-bag the Fairies stold away ! O my little bee-bag My little funny bee-bag My little honey bee-bag The Fairies stold away! One time when I bin swung in wiv annuver Brownie young-tin An lef sleepin in a pea-pod while our parunts went to play, I waked up ist a-cryin an a-sobbin an a-sighin Fer my little funny bee-bag the Fairies stold away ! O my little bee-bag My little funny bee-bag My little honey bee-bag The Fairies stold away! 413 THE HOOSIER BOOK It s awful much bewilder n , but at s why I m a Childern, Ner goin to git to be no more a Brownie sence that day! My parunts, so imprudent, lef me sleepin when they shouldn t ! An I want my little bee-bag the Fairies stold away ! O my little bee-bag My little funny bee-bag My little honey bee-bag The Fairies stold away! 214 Mongst the Hills o Somerset T\/T ONGST the Hills Somersct IV JL Wisht I was a-roamin yet! My feet won t get usen to These low lands I m trompin through. Wisht I could go back there, and Stroke the long grass with my hand, Kind o like my sweethearts hair Smoothed out underneath it there! Wisht I could set eyes once more On our shadders, on before, Climbin , in the airly dawn. Up the slopes at love growed on Natchurl as the violet Mongst the Hills o Somerset ! How t u d rest a man like me Jes fer bout an hour to be 414 THE HOOSIER BOOK Up there where the morning air Could reach out and ketch me there ! Snatch my breath away, and then Rensh and give it back again Fresh as dew, and smellin of The old pinks I ust to love, And a-flavor n ever breeze With mixt hints o mulberries And May-apples, from the thick Bottom-lands along the crick Where the fish bit, dry er wet, Mongst the Hills o Somerset ! Like a livin pictur things All comes back : the bluebird swings In the maple, tongue and bill Trillin glory fit to kill ! In the orchard, jay and bee Ripens the first pears fer me, And the "Prince s Harvest" they Tumble to me where I lay In the clover, provin still "A boy s will is the wind s will." Clean fergot is time, and care, And thick hearin , and gray hair But they s nothin* I ferget Mongst the Hills o Somerset ! Middle-aged to be edzact, Very middle-aged, in fact, Yet a-thinkin back to then, I m the same wild boy again ! 415 THE HOOSIER BOOK There s the dear old home once more, And there s Mother at the door Dead, I know, fer thirty year , Yet she s singin , and I hear ; And there s Jo, and Mary Jane, And Pap, comin up the lane ! Dusk s a-fallin ; and the dew, Pears like, it s a-fallin too Dreamin we re all livin yet Mongst the Hills o Somerset! 215 Old John Henry OLD John s jes made o the commonest stuff- Old John Henry- He s tough, I reckon, but none too tough Too tough though s better than not enough ! Says old John Henry. He does his best, and when his best s bad, He don t fret none, ner he don t git sad He simply lows it s the best he had : Old John Henry! His doctern s jes o the plainest brand Old John Henry A smilin face and a hearty hand S religen at all folks understand, Says old John Henry. 416 THE HOOSIER BOOK He s stove up some with the rhumatiz, And they hain t no shine on them shoes o his, And his hair hain t cut but his eye-teeth is : Old John Henry! He feeds hisse f when the stock s all fed- Old John Henry And sleeps like a babe when he goes to bed And dreams o Heaven and home-made bread, Says old John Henry. He hain t refined as he d ort to be To fit the statutes o poetry, Ner his clothes don t fit him but he fits me: Old John Henry I 216 Scotty SCOTT Y S dead. Of course he is! Jes that same old luck of his ! Ever sence we went cahoots He s be n first, you bet yer boots ! When our schoolin first begun, Got two whippin s to my one : Stold and smoked the first cigar : Stood up first before the bar, Takin whisky-straight and me Wastiri time on "blackberry" ! Beat me in the Army, too, And clean on the whole way through !- 417 THE HOOSIER BOOK In more scrapes around the camp, And more troubles, on the tramp : Fought and fell there by my side With more bullets in his hide, And more glory in the cause, That s the kind o man he was ! Luck liked Scotty more n me. 7 got married : Scotty, he Never even would apply Fer the pension-money I Had to beg of "Uncle Sam" That s the kind o cuss / am ! Scotty allus first and best Me the last and ornriest! Yit fer all that s said and done All the battles fought and won We hain t prospered, him ner me Both as pore as pore could be, Though we ve allus, up tel now, Stuck together anyhow Scotty allus, as I ve said, Luckiest And now he s dead! 217 Back from TOTVH OLD friends allus is the best, Halest-like and heartiest : Knowed us first, and don t allow We re so blame much better now I 4.8 THE HOOSIER BOOK They was standin at the bars When we grabbed "the kivvered kyars" And lit out fer town, to make Money and that old mistake ! We thought then the world we went Into beat "The Settlement," And the friends at we d make there Would beat any anywhere ! And they do fer that s their biz : They beat all the friends they is Cept the raa! old friends like you At staid home, like I d ort to ! W y, of all the good things yit I ain t shet of, is to quit Business, and git back to sheer These old comforts waitin here These old friends ; and these old hands At a feller understands ; These old winter nights, and old Young- folks chased in out the cold ! Sing "Hard Times ll come ag in No More !" and neighbers all jine in ! Here s a feller come from town Wants that-air old fiddle down From the chimbly ! Git the floor Cleared fer one cowtillion more ! It s poke the kitchen fire, says he, And shake a friendly leg with me ! 419 THE HOOSIER BOOK 218 A Man by the Name of Bolus A MAN by the name of Bolus (all at we ll ever know Of the stranger s name, I reckon and I m kind o glad it s so !) Got off here, Christmas morning, looked round the town, and then Kind o sized up the folks, I guess, and went away again ! The f ac s is, this man Bolus got "run in," Christmas-day ; The town turned out to see it, and cheered, and blocked the way; And they dragged him fore the Mayor fer he couldn t er zvouldn t walk And socked him down fer trial though he couldn t cr wouldn t talk ! Drunk? They was no doubt of it! W y, the marshal of the town Laughed and testified at he fell />-stairs stid o down! This man by the name of Bolus? W y, he even drapped his jaw And snored on through his "hearin" drunk as you ever saw ! One feller spit in his boot-leg, and another n drapped a small Little chunk o ice down his collar, but he didn t wake at all! 420 THE HOOSIER BOOK And they all nearly split when his Honor said, in one of his witty ways, To "chalk it down fer him, Called away be back in thirty days ! " That s where this man named Bolus slid, kind o like in a fit, Flat on the floor ; and drat my ears ! I hear em a-laughin yit! Somebody fetched Doc Sifers from jes acrost the hall And all Doc said was, "Morphine! We re too late!" and that s all! That s how they found his name out piece of a letter at read: "Your wife has lost her reason, and little Nathan s dead-^ Come ef you kin, fergive her but, Bolus, as fer me, This hour I send a bullet through where my heart ort to be!" Man by the name of Bolus! As his revilers broke Fer the open air, peared like, to me, I heerd a voice at spoke Man by the name of Bolus! git up from where you lay Git up and smile white at em, with your hands crossed thataway! 421 THE HOOSIER BOOK 219 Cuorcd o Skeerin E5H, you rickollect that-air Dad-burn skittish old bay mare Was no livin with ! at skeerd *T ever thing she seed er heerd ! Th owed "Yes* Anders, and th owed Pap, First he straddled her k-slap! And Izory well ! th owed her Hain t no tellin jest how fur! Broke her collar-bone and might Jest V kilt the gyrl outright ! Course I d heerd em make their boast She th ow any feller, most, Ever topped her ! S I, "I know One man at she ll never th ow !" So I rid her in to mill, And, jest comin* round the hill, Met a traction-engine! Ort Jest V heerd that old mare snort, And lay back her yeers, and see Her a-tryin to th ow me! Course I never said a word, But thinks I, "My ladybird, You ll git cuored, right here and now, Of yer dy-does anyhow !" So I stuck her tel she d jest Done her very level best ; Then I slides off strips the lines Over her fool-head, and finds 422 THE HOOSIER BOOK Me a little saplin -gad, Side the road : And there we had Our own fun! jest wore her out! Mounted her, and faced about, And jest made her nose that-air Little traction-engine there I 220 Home Again I M bin a-visitun bout a week To my little Cousin s at Nameless Creek ; An I m got the hives an a new straw hat, An I m come back home where my beau lives at. 423 THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN 221 An Impromptu Fairy-Tale When I ivuz 1st a little bit o wcenty-teenty kid I makes up a Fairy-tale, all by myse f, I did: WUNST upon a time wunst They wuz a Fairy King, An ever thing he have wuz gold- His clo es, an* ever 1 thing ! An all the other Fairies In his goldun Palace-hall Had to hump an hustle Cause he wuz bosst of all! 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 ! 424 THE HOOSIER BOOK in Wunst he bio wed 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. 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 !" ft -/ -n^bjf l I*?:.-; ;->;-!/ imtg orij v/oig lanniriT 222 Dream-March ; gnrn t^t oi 03 smoz ; c?.^l sni^fii;; oJ yg ornoS 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 eery, cheery chant, chiming as it came : ~ 425 THE HOOSIER BOOK Where go the children? Traveling! Traveling! Where go the children, traveling ahead? Some go to kindergarten; some go to day-school; Some go to night-school; and some go to bed! Smooth roads or rough roads, warm or winter weather, On go the children, towhead and brown, Brave boys and brave girls, rank and file together, Marching out of Morning-Land, over dale and down : Some go a-gipsying 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. Where go the children? Traveling! Traveling! Where go the children, traveling ahead? Some go to foreign wars, and camps by the firelight Some go to glory so; and some go to bed! 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? Traveling! Traveling! Where go the children, traveling ahead? Some go to conquer things; some go to try them; Some go to dream them; and some go to bed! 426 THE HOOS1ER BOOK 223 Elmer Brown Jo A WF 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 !" Yes, an wunst in School one day, An Teacher s lookin* wite that way, He belt his slate, an* hide his head, An maked a face at her, an said, "Here s the way you look !" 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 !" Wunst when his Aunt s all dressed to call An* kiss him good-by in the hall, An latch the gate an* start away, He holler out to her an say, "Here s the way you look !" 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 !" 427 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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!" 224 When We First Played "Shozv" 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; THE HOOSIER BOOK Jamesy on the slack-rope In a wild retreat, Grappling back, to start again When he chalked his feet ! Wasn t Eck a wonder, In his stocking-tights? 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-wry / 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." 429 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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" ! 225 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 HOOSIER BOOK 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. 2?,6 Extremes A LITTLE boy once played so loud That the Thunder, up in a thunder-cloud, Said, "Since 7 can t be heard, why, then I ll never, never thunder again !" 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 !" 431 THE HOOSIER BOOK 227 Intellectual Limitations r x. .,.-,,, ^..-^-p fiftc [ i 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 f Yes, an Del , that very day. When we re nearly froze out, He ask* Uncle where it goes When the fire goes out? Nen 7 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?" 228 \ 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." 432 THE HOOSIER BOOK An nen we knowed, an Ma know too, He ain t asleep no more n you ! 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." An* one time wunst Tom tend -like he s His Pa an goin to rob the bees ; An , first he know oh, dear ! They ist come swarmin out o there An sting him, an stick in his hair An one got in his yeer ! An Uncle sigh an say to Ma, An grease the welts, Tore Pa ! pore Pa ! 229 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, 433 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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 twas talking to him 1 And then it said "Sick- Atty sick-atty sick ! You poor little Dick- Atty Dick-atty Dick ! 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, And rickle-ty wrap it And clickle-ty clap it Against his cold feet- Al-ty weep-aty eepaty- There he goes, slapit- Ty slippaty sleepaty !" 434 THE HOOSIER BOOK 230 Fool-Young ens ME an Bert an Minnie-Belle Knows a joke, an we won t telK 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 o 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 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 . 435 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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 . 231 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 ! bum ! 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 ! 436 THE HOOSIER BOOK Come hurratt/in as you come, Er the} ll think you re deef-an -dumb Ef you don t hear little Billy an his big bass drum ! 132 The Noble Old Elm OBIG 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 ! 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, 437 THE HOOSIKR BOOK 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 WHEN little Pollus Morton he s A-go to speak a piece, w y, nei?. 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 favor-ite. . . . 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 ! 438 THE HOOS1ER BOOK 234. 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-kind o 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 1 They was God s people, Uncle says, An gloried in His name, t 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! 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 ! 439 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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 ! 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 com^^ f er me 1 My Ma an my A nty they Uz each-uvver s sisters. Pa A nty telled me, th other day, He corned here an married Ma. . . . A nty said nen, "Go run play, I must work now !" . . . An I saw, W T hen she turn her face away, She uz cryin . An nen I Tend-like I "run play" an cry. 440 THE HOOSIER BOOK This-here house o A nty s wher They uz horned my Ma an her ! An her Ma uz my Ma s Ma, An* her Pa uz my Ma s Pa 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 J 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 cheek s all wet An taste salty. An he held Wite close to me an rocked some An laughed-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 HP me way Up in her high bed an pray Wiv me, bout my Ma an Pa An ole Santy Clans an Sleigh 441 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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 ! vm 5?.U!Yi fiBtmi -jif Jjsilw WOHJ! J noCI 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 ! irfgil an) JifgH nj; wjiq & M .bod of 03 Jaunt I W nA 2 $6 "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!" Whistles alluz ist the same So s we won t f ergit 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 !" 442 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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, 1st a-purt nigh skeerin you Into fits ! At s what he ll do. "Old Bob White!" .Hha <\wA vJnO Wunst our Hired Man an me, When we drove to Harmony, Saw one, whistlin "Old Bob White!" An we drove wife clos t, an I Saw him an he didn t fly, Birds likes horses, an that s why. "Old Bob White!" , .D<X.// r -.-. fr: attjriw .omod movl 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!" rtt ft.*nf -rfb > rfPaoif-rriri "nitf" oh Mo ir.- ,?J7 ^4 Session with Uncle Sidney vfi&i>rjg Hn rro^). TO v> htrl s/cx! 3 7/ ONE OF HIS ANIMAL STORIES NOW, Tudens, you sit on this knee and sense 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 ; 443 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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 anything almost act anyway, 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 seeme< 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 clown by a storm some years before. 444 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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, 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 then he chopped a hole in the old tree About ten feet along 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 Cu tef 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 Tli* helpless little fellows, and held 445 THE IIOOSIKR BOOK 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 cozily, 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. And now, John Wesley Thomas, first and last, 446 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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 wore out. And that s just what it wuz ! 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?" n 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. 447 THE HOOSIER BOOK in A PET OF UNCLE SIDNEY S ,IIW ij \3~iL ) bsifi - ,oqof{ Srmj-grtfis Us mi v i; Uncle Sidney s vurry proud Of little Leslie-Janey, Cause she s so smart, an goes to school Clean way in Pennsylvany ! 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." IV IN THE KINDERGARTEN OF NOBLE SONG 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. 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, 448 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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 ! 238 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/o tty to the Trick-Dog Show! 449 THE HOOSIER BOOK Climatic Sorcery WHEN frost s all on our winder, an the snows All out-o -doors, our rt 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. 240 A Dubious "Old Kriss" US-FOLKS is purty pore but Ma She s waitin two years more tet Pa He serve his term out. Our Pa he Pie s in the Penitenchurrie! Now don t you 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 ! ! //odR 5JoQ->lor lT 3 ffj o) Yf^ \~ ; , i! ! EH ;!? if 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. 450 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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! 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 btise 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 ! 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, 451 THE HOOSIER BOOK "An* thank yer blessed stars fer this We don t sped nothin from Old Kriss !" An cried, an 1 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 1st old stovepipe stuck f rue 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 m 979ff r*vil ow t wott 2 mn ah<D 8frfT An* wake the rest up. An the sun In f rue the winder dazzle-un Them eyes o Sis s, wiv a sure- Enough gold chain Old Kriss bringed to cr ! I>fp3 . !>; Tto sfj *f;A An all of us git gold things ! Sis, Though, she say she know it "ain t Old Kriss He kissed her, so she waked an saw Him skite out an it wuz her Pa." 452 THE HOOSIER BOOK 241 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. fu>i 3"/I it-. ; i n ^igfi Jb?o3i 91 -:-- -4*H1 >M 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 ! 242 A Bear Family ! jihjn Ji!i>* &!fi33 nA ! I>jcn oa si/y/ s WUNZT, 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, 1st M\z Bear, the neigmSers call Em, an Mister Bear at s all. 453 THE HOOSIER BOOK Yes an Miz Bear scold him, too, 1st like grown folks shouldn t dol 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, fish in*, 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. 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 cliimbed 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-rattfin -like. An he wuz sheered, An looked way up, an Mercy sake! It wuz a Eagul an a SNAKE ! An -sir ! the Snake, he bite an* kill* The Eagul, an they bofe fall till 454 THE HOOSIER BOOK They strike the grgmdzK-k -spang- 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 mojmiain 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 At s been a-shootin ducks : An so He skeered them out the fx>at, you know, An ist jumped in an Sna&The 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 -455 THE HOOSIER BOOK To ist su prise the dear ones there !" An Jim an To they dried his hair An pulled the burrs out ; an v 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 f erever ! Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum- 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 ! 456 THE HOOSIER BOOK 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 ?" 24 1 Littlc-Girl-Tu<o~Littlc-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. :. nn ,?3 i 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-by !- Bad little girl s corned here again !" Last time at Ma act thataway, I cried all to myse f a while 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: 457 THE HOOSIER BOOK "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 corned back to stay. 245 A Gustatory Achievement E^ST Thanksgivin -dinner we Et at Granny s house, an she Had ist like she alluz does Most an best pies ever wuz. Canned blackburry-pie. an goosc- Burry, squshin -full o juice; An* ro^rburry 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 ! 246 A Parent Reprimanded SOMETIMES I think at Parunts does Things ist about as bad as us Wite fore our vurry eyes, at that ! Per one time Pa he scold my Ma Cause he can t find his hat; THE HOOSIER BOOK An* she ist cried, she did ! An I Says, "Ef you scold my Ma Ever again an make her cry, W y, you shan t be my Pa !" An* nen he laugh an find his hat Ist wite where Ma she said it s at! 247 "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." in e. bno o/ii 829 J ) 459 THE BOYS OF THE OLD GLEE CLUB 248 The Boys of the Old Glee Club Y rOU-FOLKS rickollect, I know Tain t so very long ago Th Old Glee Club was got up here Bout first term Grant tuk the Cheer Per President four year and then Riz and tuk the thing again ! Politics was runnin high, And the Soldiers mighty nigh Swep the Country bout on par With their ricord through the War. Glee Club, mainly, Soldiers, too Most the Boys had wore the blue, So their singin had the swing Kind o sort o Shiloh-ring, Don t you know, at kind o got Clean inside a man and shot Telegrams o joy dee-vine Up and down his mortal spine ! They was jest boys then, all young And bout lively as they sung ! Now they hain t young any more ( Less the ones at s gore before 460 THE HOOSIER BOOK S got their youth back, glad and free N keerless as they used to be !) Burgess Brown s old friends all low He is most as lively now, And as full o music, too, As when Old Glee Club was : iew ! And John Blake, you mind, ; at had The near-sightedness so bad, When he sung by note, the rest Read em f er him, er he guessed How they run and sung em, too, Clair and sweet as honey-dew ! Harry Adams s here and he s Jollyin ever man he sees At complains o gittin* gray Er a-agein anyway. Harry he jest thrives on fun "Troubles ?" he says, "Nary one ! Got gran -children I can play And keep young with, night and day !" Then there s Ozzy Weaver he s Kickin , lively as you please, N Dearie Mary. Called em then "The Cherubs." Sung "We are two Men O th Olden Time." Well ! their duets Was jest sweet as violets ! And Dan Ransdell he s still here Not jest in the town, but near Enough, you bet, to allus come Prompt on time to vote at home! Dan he s be n in Washington 461 THE HOOSIER BOOK Sence he went with Harrison. . . . And John Slauson (Boys called John "Sloppy Weather.") he went on Once to Washington ; and Dan Intertained him: Ever man, From the President, to all Other big-guns Dan could haul In posish ud have to shake Hands with John fer old times sake. And to hear John, when he got Home again, w y, you d a caught His own sperit and dry fun And mis-c/nVz^-y-ousness at run Through his talk of all he see : "Ruther pokey there, fer me" John says, "though, of course, I met Mostly jest the Cabinet Members ; and the President He d drop round : and then we went Incogg fer a quiet walk Er sometimes jest set and talk Bout old times back here and how All vow-boys was doin now, And Old Glee Club songs ; and then He d say, f he could, once again, Jest hear us once more says he, I d shed Washington, D. C, And jest fall in ranks with you And march home, a-singin , too ! " And Bob Geiger Now lives down At Atlanty, but this town 462 THE HOOSIER BOOK S got Bob s heart a permanent And time-honored resident. Then there s Mahlon Butler still Lookin like he allus will! "How you f eelin ?" s l, last time I see Mahlon : N he says, "I m F eelin ?" says, "so peert and gay F I s hitched up I d run away!" He says, "Course I m bald a bit, But not nough to brag on it Like Dave Wallace does," he says, "With his two shamef acetedness !" (Dave jest laughs and lifts his "dice" At the joke, and blushes twice.) And Ed. Thompson, he s gone on They s a whole quartette at s gone Yes, a whole quartette, and more, Has crossed on the Other Shore. . . . Sabold and Doc Wood ard s gone N Ward; and last, Will Tarkington.- Ward at made an Irish bull Actchully jest beautiful! " Big-nose Ben, " says Ward, "I s pose, Makes an eyesore of his nose!" And Will Tarkington Ef he Ever had an inemy, The Good Bein s plans has be n Tampered with ! because all men, Women and childern ever one Loved to love Will Tarkington ! The last time I heerd em all Was at Tomilsonian Hall, 463 THE HOOSIER BOOK As I rickollect and know, Must be n fifteen year ago! Big Mass Meetin thousands here. . . Old Dick Thompson in the Cheer On the stage and three er four Other "Silver-Tongues" er more ! . . . Mind Ben Harrison? Clean, rich, Ringin voice " bout concert-pitch," Tarkington he called it, and Said its music clipsed the band And Glee Club both rolled in one ! ( Course you all knowed Harrison!) Yes, and Old Flag, streamin clean From the high arch bove the scene And each side the Speaker s stand. And a Brass, and Sheepskin Band, ( Twixt the speeches at was made) At cut loose and banged and played S pose, to have the noise all through So s the crowd could listen to Some real music ! Then Th Old Glee Club marched out to victory ! And sich singin ! Boys was jest At their very level-best ! . . . My! to hear em! From old "Red- White-and-Blue," to "Uncle Ned" ! From "The Sword of Bunker Hill," To "Billy Magee-Magaw" ! And still The more they sung, the more, you know, The crowd jest -wouldn t let em go ! Till they reached the final notch O glory with old "Larboard Watch" ! 464 THE HOOSIER BOOK Well ! that song s a song my soul Jest swings off in, past control ! Allus did and allus will Lift me clair of earthly ill And interrogance and doubt O what the good Lord s workin out Anyway er anyhow! * ;^fi?q4 oj Shet my eyes and hear it now! Till, at night, that ship and sea And wet waves jest wallers me Into that same sad yet glad Certainty the Sailor had When waked to his watch and ward By th lone whisper of the Lord Heerd high bove the hoarsest roar O any storm on sea er shore ! Time s be n clockin on, you know ! Sabold, who was first to go, Died back East, in ninety-three, At his old home, Albany : Ward was next to leave us Died New York. . . . How we laughed and cried Both together at them two Friends and comards tried and true ! Ner they wasn t, when they died, Parted long most side-by-side They went singin , you might say, Till their voices died away Kind o into a duet O silence they re rehearsin yet. 465 THE HOOSIER BOOK Old Glee Club s be n meetin less And less frequenter, I guess, Sence so many s had to go And the rest all miss em so ! Still they s calls they got to make, Fer old reputation s sake, So to speak ; but, course, they all Can t jest answer ever call Ceptin Christmas-times, er when Charity calls on em then ; And not chargln anything W y, the Boys s jest got to sing! . Campaign work, and jubilees To wake up the primaries ; Loyal Legions G. A. R. s Big Reunions Stripes-and-Stars Fer Schoolhouses ever where And Church-doin s, here and there And Me-morial Meetin s, when Our War-Gov ner lives again ! Yes, and Decoration Days Martial music prayers and praise Fer the Boys at marched away So s we d have a place to stay ! . . Little childern, mongst the flowers, Learnin bout this Land of Ours, And the price these Soldiers paid, Gethered in their last parade. . . . O that sweetest, saddest sound! "Tenting on the old Campground. The Old Glee Club singin so Quaverin -like and soft and low, 466 THE HOOSIER BOOK Ever listener in the crowd Sings in whispers but, out loud, Sings as ef he didn t keer Not fer no thin I . . . Ketch me here Whilse I m honest, and I ll say God s way is the only way! . ]/-. So I allus felt, i jing! Ever time the Boys ud sing Bout "A Thousand Years, my Own Columbia !" er "The Joys we ve Known" "Hear dem Bells" er "Hi-lo, Hail !" I have felt God must prevail Jest like ever boy at s gone Of em all, whilse he was on Deck here with us, seemed to be Livin , laughin proof, to me, Of Eternal Life No more Will than them all, gone before ! . . , Can t I many-a-time jest see Them all, like they used to be ! Tarkington, fer instance, clean Outside o the man you seen, Singin till not only you Heerd his voice but felt it, too, In back of the bench you set In And most can feel it yet ! Yes, and Will s the last o five Now that s dead yet still alive, True as Holy Writ s own word Has be n spoke and man has heerd ! Them was left when W 7 ill went on Has met once sence he was gone 467 THE HOOSIER BOOK Met jest once but not to sing Ner to practise anything. Facts is, they jest didn t know Why they was a-meetin so ; But John Brush he had it done And invited ever one Of em he could find, to call At his office, "Music Hall," Four o clock one Saturd y Afternoon. And this was three Er four weeks, mind, sence the day We had laid poor Will away. Mahlon Butler he come past My shop, and I dropped my last And went with him, wonder n , too, What new joke Brush had in view ; But, when all got there, and one- By-one was give a seat, and none O Brush s twinkles seemed in sight, N he looked bis all right, all right, We saw when he d locked the door What some of us, years before, Had seen, and long sence fergot (Seen but not heerd, like as not.) How Brush, once when Admiral Brown S back here in his old home-town And flags ever wheres and Old Glee Club tellin George to "Hold The Fort !" and "We" would "make em flee By land and sea," et cetery, How Brush had got the Boys to sing A song in that-there very thing 468 THE HOOSIER BOOK Was on the table there to-day Some kind o phone, you know. But say! When John touched it off, and we Heerd it singin No-sir-ee ! Not the machine a-singin No, Th Old Glee Club o long ago ! . . . There was Sab old s voice again N Ward s; and, sweet as summer-rain, With glad boy-laugh ture s trills and runs, Ed. Thompson s voice and Tarkington s! . And ah, to hear them, through the storm Of joy that swayed each listener s form Seeming to call, with hail and cheer, From Heaven s high seas down to us here :- "But who can speak the joy he feels While o er the foam his vessel reels, And his tired eyelids slumbering fall, He rouses at the welcome call Of Larboard Watch, Ahoy! " SipteH^iljfifw And O To hear them same as long ago The listeners whispered, still as death, With trembling lips and broken breath, As with one voice and eyes all wet, "Goo! God! Thank God, they re singing yet!" 469 A DEFECTIVE SANTA CLAUS 249 A Defective Santa Clans Little Boy! Halloo! halloo! Can t you hear me calling you? Little Boy that used to be, Come in here and play with me. A~_XUS when our Pa he s away Nen Uncle Sidney comes to stay At our house here so Ma an me An Etty an Lee-Bob won t be Afeard ef anything at night Might happen like Ma says it might (Ef Trip wuz big, I bet you he Uz best watch-dog you ever see!) An so last winter ist before It s go be Chris mus-Day, w y, shore Enough, Pa had to haf to go To tend a lawsuit "An the snow Ist right f er Santy Claus !" Pa said, As he dumb in old Ayersuz sled, An* say he s sorry he can t be With us that night" Cause," he-says-ee, "Old Santy might be comin here This very night of all the year F got to be away ! so all You kids must tell him ef he call 470 THE HOOSIER BOOK He s mighty welcome, an yer Pa He left his love with you an Ma An Uncle Sid !" An clucked, an leant Back, laughin an away they went ! An Uncle wave his hands an yells "Yer old horse ort to have on bells !" But Pa yell back an laugh an say "I spect when Santy come this way It s time enough f er sleighbells nen !" An holler back "Good-by !" again, An reach out with the driver s whip An cut behind an drive back Trip. An so all day it snowed an snowed ! An Lee-Bob he ist watched the road, In his high-chair ; an Etty she Ud play with Uncie Sid an me Like she wuz he ppin fetch in wood An keepin old fire goin good, Where Ma she wuz a-cookin there In kitchen, too, an ever where ! An* Uncle say, " At s ist the way Yer Ma s b en workin , night an day, Sence she hain t big as Etty is Er Lee-Bob in that chair o his !" Nen Ma she d laugh t what Uncle said, An smack an smoove his old bald head An say "Clear out the way till I Can keep that pot from b ilin dry!" Nen Uncle, when she s gone back to The kitchen, says, "We ust to do 471 THE HOOSIER BOOK Some cookin in the ashes. Say, S posin we try some, thataway !" An nen he send us to tell Ma Send two big taters in he saw Pa s b en keepin cause they got The premium at the Fair ! An what You think? He rake a grea -big hole In the hot ashes, an he roll Them old big taters in the place An rake the coals back an his face 1st swettin so s he purt nigh swear Cause it s so hot ! An when they re there Bout time at we fergit em, he 1st rake em out again an gee! He bu st em with his fist wite on A old stove-led, while Etty s gone To git the salt; an butter, too 1st like he said she haf to do, No matter what Ma say ! An so He salt an butter em, an blow Em cool enough f er us to eat An mc-o-my! they re hard to beat! An Trip ud ist lay there an pant Like he d laugh out loud, but he can t Nen Uncle fill his pipe an* we Ud he p him light it Sis an me, But mostly little Lee-Bob, cause "He s the best Lighter ever wuz !" Like Uncle telled him wunst when Lee- Bob cried an jerked the light from me, He wuz so mad ! So Uncle pat An pet him (Lee-Bob s ust to that 472 THE HOOSIER BOOK Cause he s the little-est, you know, An allus has b en humored so!) Nen Uncle gits the flat-arn out, An , while he s tellin* us all bout Old Chris mus-times when he s a kid, He ist cracked hickernuts, he did, Till they s a crockful, mighty nigh ! An when they re all done by an by, He raked the red coals out again An telled me, "Fetch that popcorn in, An old three-leggud skillut an The led an all now, little man, An yer old Uncle here ull show You how corn s popped, long years ago When me an Santy Glaus wuz boys On Pap s old place in Illinoise ! An your Pa, too, wuz chums, all through,. With Santy ! Wisht Pa d be here, too !" Nen Uncle sigh at Ma, an she Pat him again, an say to me An Etty, "You take warning fair ! Don t talk too much, like Uncle there, Ner don t fergit, like him, my dears, That little pitchers has big ears! " But Uncle say to her, "Clear out ! Yer brother knows what he s about. You git your Chris mus-cookin done Er these pore childern won t have none !" Nen Trip wake up an raise , an nen Turn roun an nen lay down again. An one time Uncle Sidney say, "When dogs is sleepin thataway, 473 THE HOOSIER BOOK Like Trip, an whimpers, it s a sign He ll ketch eight rabbits mayby nine Afore his fleas ll wake him nen He ll bite hisse f to sleep again An try to dream he s go ketch ten." An when Ma s gone again back in The kitchen, Uncle scratch his chin An say, "When Santy Clans an Pa An me wuz little boys an Ma, When she s bout big as Etty there ; W y, When we re growed no matter where, Santy he cross his heart an say Til come to see you, all, some day When you got childerns all but me An pore old Sid ! " Nen Uncle he 1st kind o shade his eyes an pour Bout forty- leven bushels more O popcorn out the skillut there In Ma s new basket on the chair. An nen he telled us an talk low, "So Ma can t hear," he say : "You know Yer Pa know , when he drived away, To-morry s go be Chris mus-Day; Well, nen to-night," he whisper, "see? It s go be Chris mus-z^/ says-ee, "An , like yer Pa hint, when he went, Old Santy Claus (now hush!) he s sent Yer Pa a postul-card, an write He s shorely go be here to-night. . . That s why yer Pa s so bored to be Away to-night, when Santy he 474 in THE HOOSIER BOOK Is go be here, sleighbells an* all, To make you kids a Chris mus-call !" An we re so glad to know fer shore He s comin , I roll on the floor An here come Trip a-waller n roun An purt nigh knock the clo es-horse down ! An* Etty grab Lee-Bob an prance All roun the room like it s a dance Till Ma she come an march us nen To dinner, where we re still again, But tickled so we ist can t eat But pie, an ist the hot mincemeat With raisins in. But Uncle et, An Ma. An there they set an set Till purt nigh supper-time ; nen we Tell him he s got to fix the Tree Fore Santy gits here, like he said. We go nen to the old woodshed All bundled up, through the deep snow "An snowin yet, jee-rooshy-O!" Uncle he said, an he p us wade Back where s the Chris mus-Tree he s made Out of a little jackoak-top He git down at the sawmill-shop An Trip ud run ahead, you know, An* tend-like he uz eatin snow When we all waddle back with it; An Uncle set it up an git It wite in front the fireplace cause He says " Tain t so at Santy Claus Comes down all chimblies, least, to-night He s comin in this house all right 475 THE HOOSIER BOOK By the front-door, as ort to be! We ll all be hid where we can see!" Nen he look up, an* he see Ma An* say, "It s ist too bad their Pa Can t be here, so s to see the fun The childern will have, ever one !" Well, we! We hardly couldn t wait Till it wuz dusk, an dark an late Enough to light the lamp ! An Lee- Bob light a candle on the Tree "1st one cause I m The Lighter !" Nen He dumb on Uncle s knee again An hug us bofe; an Etty git Her little chist an set on it Wite clos t, while Uncle telled some more Bout Santy Claus, an clo es he wore "All maked o furs, an trimmed as white As cotton is, er snow at night!" An nen, all sudden-like, he say, "Hush! Listen there! Hain t that a sleigh An sleighbells jinglin f" Trip go "whooh!" Like he hear bells and smell em, too. Nen we all listen. . . . An -sir, shore Enough, we hear bells more an more A-jinglin clos ter clos ter still Down the old crook-road roun the hill. An Uncle he jumps up, an all The chairs he jerks back by the wall An th ows a overcoat an pair O winder-curtains over there 476 THE HOOSIER BOOK An says, "Hide quick, er you re too late! Them bells is stoppin at the gate! Git back o them-air chairs an hide, Cause I hear Santy s voice outside!" An Bang! bang! bang! we heerd the door Nen it flewed open, an the floor Blowed full o snow that s first we saw, Till little Lee-Bob shriek at Ma "There s Santy Claus! / know him by His big white mufftash!" an ist cry An laugh an squeal an dance an yell Till, when he quiet down a spell, Old Santy bow an* th ow a kiss To him an* one to me an Sis An nen go clos t to Ma an stoop An kiss her An nen give a whoop That fainted her ! Cause when he bent An kiss her, he ist backed an went Wite g inst the Chris mus-Tree ist where The candle s at Lee-Bob lit there ! An set his white-fur belt afire An blaze streaked roun his waist an higher Wite up his old white beard an th oat ! Nen Uncle grabs th old overcoat An flops it over Santy s head, An swing the door wide back an said, "Come out, old man ! an quick about It! I ve ist got to put you out!" An out he sprawled him in the snow "Now roll!" he szys Hi-roll-ce-O!" An Santy, sputter n "Ouch! Gee-whiz!" Ist roll an roll f er all they is ! 477 THE HOOSIER BOOK An Trip he s out there, too, I know, Cause I could hear him yappin so An I heerd Santy, wunst er twic t, Say, as he s rollin , "Drat the fice t!" Nen Uncle come back in, an shake Ma up, an say, "Per mercy-sake! He hain t hurt none !" An nen he said, "You youngsters h ist up-stairs to bed ! Here ! kiss yer Ma Good night, an me, We ll he p old Santy fix the Tree An all yer whistles, horns an* drums I ll he p you toot when morning comes !" It s a long while fore we go to sleep, Cause down-stairs, all-time somepin keep A-kind o scufflin roun the floors An openin doors, an shettin doors An could hear Trip a-whinin , too, Like he don t know ist what to do An tongs a-clankin down k thump! Nen some one squonkin* the old pump An Wooh! how cold it soun out there! I could ist see the pump-spout where It s got ice chin-whiskers all wet An drippy An I see it yet ! An nen, seem-like, I hear some mens A-talkin out there by the fence, An one says, "Oh, bout twelve o clock !" "Nen," nother n says, "Here s to you, Doc ! God bless us ever one!" An nen I heerd the old pump squonk again. 478 THE HOOSIER BOOK An nen I say my prayer all through Like Uncle Sidney learn me to, "O Father mine, e en as Thine own, This child looks up to Thee alone : Asleep or waking, give him still His Elder Brother s wish and will." An that s the last I know . . . Till Ma She s callin us an so is Pa, He holler "Chris mus-gif !" an say, "I m got back home f er Chris mus-Day ! An Uncle Sid s here, too an he Is nibblin roun yer Chris mus-Tree !" Nen Uncle holler, "I suppose Yer Pa s so proud he s froze his nose He wants to turn it up at us, Cause Santy kick up such a fuss Tetchin hisse f off same as ef He wuz his own fireworks hisse f !" An when we re down-stairs, shore enough, Pa s nose is froze, an salve an stuff All on it an one hand s froze, too, An got a old yarn red-and-blue Mitt on it "An* he s froze some more Acrost his chist, an kind o sore All roun his rfy-fram," Uncle say. "But Pa he d ort a-seen- the way Santy bear up last night when that- Air fire break out, an quicker n scat He s all a-blazin , an them- air Gun-cotton whiskers that he wear 479 THE HOOSIER BOOK 1st flashin ! till I burn a hole In the snow with him, an he roll The front-yard dry as Chris mus jokes Old parents plays on little folks ! But, long s a smell o tow er wool, I kep him rollin beautiful! Till I wuz shore I shorely see He s squenched! W y, hadn t b en fer me, That old man might a-burnt clear down Clean plum level with the groun !" Nen Ma say, "There, Sid ; that ll do ! Breakfast is ready Chris mus, too. Your voice ud soun best, sayin Grace Say it." An Uncle bow his face An say so long a Blessing nen, Trip bark two times fore it s "A-men I" ris li rro HA bio r, ;..^ a A " 4i no j.nM 480 XOOH y RUBAIYAT OF DOC SIFERS brie iffn miH -fr- Ritbdiydt of Doc Sifers IF you don t know Doc SIFERS I ll jes argy, here and now, You ve bin a mighty little while about here, anyhow, Cause Doc he s rid these roads and woods er swum em, now and then And practised in this neighberhood sence hain t no tellin when ! " ,.v_ .-Vy.-(-,\v i i\ boraoJ^-K )ori o iif In radius o fifteen mil d, all p ints o compass round, No man er woman, chick er child, er team, on top o ground, But knows him yes, and got respects and likin fer him, too, Fer all his so-to-speak dee-f ects o genius showin through ! Some claims he s absent-minded; some has said they wuz afeard To take his powders when he come and dosed em out, and peared To have his mind on somepin else like County Ditch, er some New way o tannin mussrat-pelts, er makin butler come. He s cur ous they hain t no mistake about it ! but he s got Enough o extry brains to make a fury like as not. THE HOOSIER BOOK They s no dcscribin Sifers, fer, when all is said and done, He s jes hisse f Doc Sifers ner they hain t no other one! Doc s allus sociable, polite, and greeable, you ll find Pervidin ef you strike him right and nothin on his mind, Like in some hurry, when they ve sent fer Sifers quick, you see, To tend some sawmill-accident, er picnic jamboree; Er when the lightin s struck some harebrained harvest- hand ; er in Some tempt o suicidin where they d ort to try ag in ! I ve knozved Doc haul up from a trot and talk a hour er two When railly he d a-ort o not a-stopped fer "Howdy-do!" And then, I ve met him long the road, a-lopin , starin straight Ahead, and yit he never knowed me when I hollered "Yate, Old Saddlebags!" all hearty-like, er "Who you goin to kill?" And he d say nothin only hike on faster, starin still ! I d bin insulted, many a time, ef I jes wuzn t shore Doc didn t mean a thing. And I m not tetchy any more Sence that-air day, ef he d a-jes a-stopped to jaw with me, They d bin a little dorter less in my own f ambily ! Times now, at home, when Sifers name comes up, I jes let on, You know, at 7 think Doc s to blame, the way he s bin and gone 482 THE HOOSIER BOOK And disappointed folks L\-jce-mun-nee! you d ort to then Jes hear my wife light into me "ongratefulest o men!" Mongst all the women mild er rough, splendiferous er plain, Er them with sense, er not enough to come in out the rain, Jes ever shape and build and style o women, fat er slim They all like Doc, and got a smile and pleasant word fer him! Ner hain t no horse I ve ever saw but what ll neigh and try To sidle up to him, and paw, and sense him, ear-and-eye : Then jes a tetch o Doc s old pa m, to pat em, er to shove Along their nose and they re as ca m as any cooin dove ! And same with dogs, take any breed, er strain, er pedi gree, Er racial caste at can t concede no use fer you er me, They ll putt all predju-dice aside in Doc s case and go in Kahoots with him, as satisfied as he wuz kith-and-kin ! And Doc s a wonder, trainin pets ! He s got a chicken- hawk, j In kind o half-cage, where he sets out in the gyarden-walk, And got that wild bird trained so tame, he ll loose him, and he ll fly ! Clean to the woods ! Doc calls his name and he ll come, by and by ! Some says no money down ud buy that bird o Doc. Ner no Inducement to the bird, says I, at he d let Sifers go ! 483 THE HOOSIER BOOK And Doc ne say at he s content long as a bird o prey Kin bide him, it s a compliment, and takes it thataway. But, gittin back to docterin a.\l the sick and in distress, And old and pore, and weak and small, and lone and moth erless, I jes tell you I predate the man at s got the love To "go ye forth and ministrate !" as Scriptur tells us of. Dull times, Doc jes mtanders round, in that old rig o his : And hain t no tellin where he s bound ner guessin where he is ; He ll drive, they tell, jes thataway fer maybe six er eight Days at a stretch ; and neighbers say he s bin clean round the State. He picked a old tramp up, one trip, bout eighty mil d from here. And fetched him home and k-yored his hip, and kep him bout a year ; And feller said in all his ja nts round this terreschul ball At no man wuz a circumstance to Doc! he topped em all! Said, bark o trees s a open book to Doc, and vines and moss He read like writin with a look knowed ever dot and cross : Said, stars at night wuz jes as good s a compass: said, he s pose You couldn t lose Doc in the woods the darkest night that blows ! 484 THE HOOSIER BOOK Said, Doc ll tell you, purty clos t, by unclerbresh and plants. How fur off carter is, and most perdict the sort o chance You ll have o findin fish; and how they re liable to bite, And whether they re a-bitin now, er only after night. And, whilse we re talkin* fish, I mind they formed a fishin -crowd (When folks could fish thout gittin fined, and seinin wuz allowed !) O leadin citizens, you know, to go and seine "Old Blue" But hadn t no big seine, and so w y, what wuz they to do? ... And Doc he say he thought at he could knit a stitch er two "Bring the materials to me at s all I m astin you !" And down he sets six weeks, i jing! and knits that seine plum done Made corks, too, brails and ever thing good as a boughten one! Doc s public sperit when the sick s not takin all his time And he s got some f er politics is simple yit sublime : He ll talk his principles and they air honest ; but the sly Friend strikes him first, election-day, he d commodate, er die -moo --T^mnK tcii) Jog bus ,ilJo:rd-n3>bifb Jadt balid bnA And yit, though Doc, as all men knows, is square straight up and down, That vote o his is well, I s pose the cheapest one in town ; 485 THE HOOSIER BOOK A fact at s sad to verify, as could be done on oath I ve voted Doc myse f And I was criminal fer both! You kin corrupt the ballot-box corrupt yourse f, as well Corrupt some neighbers, but old Doc s as oncorruptible As Holy Writ. So putt a pin right there ! Let Sifers be, I jucks ! he wouldn t vote ag in his own worst inimy ! When Cynthy Eubanks laid so low with fever, and Doc Glenn Told Euby Cynth ud haf to go they sends fer Sifers then! . . . Doc sized the case : "She s starved," says he, "fer warter yes, and meat! The treatment at she ll git from me s all she kin drink and eat !" He orders Euby then to split some wood, and take and build A fire in kitchen-stove, and git a young spring-chicken killed; And jes whirled in and th owed his hat and coat there on the bed, And warshed his hands and sailed in that-air kitchen, Euby said, And biled that chicken-broth, and got that dinner all com - plete And clean and crisp and good and hot as mortal ever eat ! And Cynth and Euby both ll say at Doc ll git as good Meals-vittles up, jes any day, as any woman could! 486 THE HOOSIER BOOK Time Sister Abbick tuk so bad with striffen o the lung, P tracted Meetin , where she had jes shouted, prayed, and sung All winter long, through snow and thaw, when Sifers come, says he : "No, M lissy; don t poke out your raw and cloven tongue at me ! "I know, without no symptoms but them injarubbcr-shoes You promised me to never putt a fool-foot in ner use At purril o your life!" he said. "And I won t save you now, Onless here on your dyin bed you consecrate your vow !" Without a-claimin any creed, Doc s rail religious views Nobody knows ner got no need o knowin whilse he choose To be heerd not of man, ner raise no loud, vain-glorious prayers In crowded marts, er public ways, er i jucks, anywheres ! Less n it is away deep down in his own heart, at night, Facin the storm, when all the town s a-sleepin snug and tight Him splashin hence from scenes o pride and sloth and gilded show, To some pore sufferer s bedside o anguish, don t you know ! Er maybe dead o winter makes no odds to Doc, he s got To face the weather ef it takes the hide off ! cause he ll not THE HOOSIER BOOK Lie out o goin and p tend he s sick hisse f like some At 1 could name at folks might send fer and they d never come! Like pore Phin Hoover when he goes to that last dance o 1 his That Chris mus when his feet wuz froze and Doc saved all they is Left of em " Nough," as Phin say now, "to track me by, and be A adverfcment, anyhow, o what Doc s done fer me ! "When he come knife-and-saw" Phin say, "I knowed, et I d the spunk, At Doc ud fix me up some way, ef nothin but my trunk Wuz left, he d fasten casters in and have me, spick-and- span, A-skootin round the streets ag in as spry as any man !" Doc sees a patient s got to quit he ll ease him down serene As dozin off to sleep, and yit not dope him with mor- phccn. He won t tell what jes lows at he has "airnt the right to sing O grave, where is thy victery? O death, where is thy sting? " And, mind ye now ! it s not in scoff and scorn, by long degree, At Doc gits things like that-un off: it s jes his shority And total faith in Life to Come, w y, "from that Land o Bliss," He says, "we ll haf to chuckle some, a-lookin back at this !" 488 THE HOOSIER BOOK And, still in p int, 1 mind, one night o nitiation at Some secert lodge, at Doc set right down on em, square and flat, \Vhen they mixed up some Scriptur and wuz funnin -like. w y, he Lit in em with a rep imand at ripped em, A to Z ! And onc t when gineral loafin -place wuz old Shoe-Shop and all The gang ud git in there and brace their backs ag inst the wall And settle questions that had went onscttled long enough, Like "wuz no Heav n ner no torment" jes talkin awfhl rough! There wuz Slokc Haines and old Ike Knight and Coonrod Simmes all three Ag inst the Bible and the Light, and scouthY Deity. "Science" says Ike, "it muonstrates it takes nobody s word Scriptur er not, it vcstigates ef sich things could oc curred !" Well, Doc he heerd this, he d drapped in a minute, fer to git A tore-off heel pegged on ag in, and, as he stood on it And stomped and grinned, he says to Ike, "I s pose now, purty soon Some lightin -bug, indignant-like, 11 vestigate the moon ! 489 THE HOOSIER BOOK "No, Ike," says Doc, "this world hain t saw no brains like yourn and mine With sense enough to grasp a law at takes a brain divine. I ve bared the thoughts of brains in doubt, and felt their finest pulse, And mortal brains jes won t turn out omnipotent results!" And Doc he s got respects to spare the rich as well as pore Says he, "I d turn no milllonnaire onsheltered from my door." Says he, "What s wealth to him in quest o honest friends to back And love him fer hisse ff not jes because he s made his jack !" And childern. Childcrn? Lawzy-day ! Doc worships em ! You call Round at his house and ast em ! they re z-swarmin there that s all ! They re in his Lib ry in best room in kitchen fur and near, In office too, and, I p sume, his operatin -cheer ! You know they s men at bees won t sting? They s plaguy few, but Doc He s one o them. And same, i jing! with childern ; they jes flock Round Sifers natchurl!in his lap, and in his pockets, too, And in his old fur mitts and cap, and heart as warm and true! 490 THE HOOSIER BOOK It s cur ous, too, cause Doc hain t got no childern of his own Ceptin the ones he s tuk and brought up, at s bin left alone And orphans when their father died, er mother, and Doc he Has he pped their dyin* satisfied. "The child shall live with me "And Winniferd, my wife," he d say, and stop right there, and cle r His th oat, and go on thinkin* way some mother-hearts down here Can t never feel their own babe s face a-pressin em, ner make Their naked breasts a restin -place fer any baby s sake. Doc s Lt b ry as he calls it, well, they s ha f-a-dozen she ves Jam-full o books I couldn t tell how many count your- se ves ! One whole she fs Works on Medicine I and most the rest s about First Settlement, and Indians in here, fore we driv em out. And Plutarch s Lives and life also o Dan el Boone, and this- Here Mungo Park, and Adam Poe jes* all the lives they is ! And Doc s got all the novels out, by Scott and Dickison And Cooper. And, I make no doubt, he s read em ever* one! 491 THE HOOSIER BOOK Onc t, in his office, settin there, with crowd o eight er nine Old neighbers with the time to spare, and Doc a-feelin fine, A man rid up from Rollins, jes fcr Doc to write him out Some blame* p scription done, I guess, in minute, nigh about. And 7 says, "Doc, you pear so spry, jes write me that recei t You have fer bein happy by, fer that ud shorely beat Your medicine!" says I. And quick as s cat! Doc turned and writ And handed me: "Go he p the sick, and putt your heart in it." And then, "A-talkin furder bout that line o thought," says he, "Ef we ll jcs do the work cut out and give to you and me, We ll lack no joy, ner appetite, ner all we d ort to eat, And sleep like childern ever night as puore and ca m and sweet." ! ?>3v 3? Doc has bin cused o offishncss and lack o talkin free And extry friendly; but he says, "I m feard o talk," says he,- "I ve got," he says, "a natchurl turn fer talkin fit to kill. The best and hardest thing to learn is trick o keepin still." Doc kin smoke, and I s pose he might drink licker jes fer fun. He says, "You smoke, you drink all right; but 1 don t neether one" 492 THE HOOSIER BOOK Says. "I like whisky good old rye but like it in its place. Like that-air warter in your eye, er nose there on your face." Doc s bound to have his joke! The day he got that off on me I jes had sold a load o hay at "Scofield s Livery," And tolled Doc in the shed they kep the hears t in, where I d hid The stuff at got me "out o step," as Sifers said it did. Doc hain t, to say, no "rollin stone" and yit he hain t no hand Fer cumulating Home s his own, and scrap o farmin - land Enough to keep him out the way when folks is tuk down sick The suddentest most any day they want him special quick. And yit Doc loves his practise; ner don t, wilful, want to slight No call no matter who how fur away er day er night. He loves his work he loves his friends June, Winter, Fall, and Spring: His lovin facts is never ends ; he loves jes ever - thing. . . . Cept kcepin books. He never sets down no accounts.- He hates, The worst of all, collectin debts the worst, the more *><? waits. 493 THE HOOSIER BOOK I ve knowed him, when at last he had to dun a man, to end By makin him a loan and mad he hadn t more to lend. When Pence s Drug Store ust to be in full blast, they wu? some Doc s patients got things frekantly there, charged to him, i gum ! Doc run a bill there, don t you know, and allus when he squared, He never questioned nothin , so he had his feelin s spared. Now sich as that, I hold and claim, hain t scusable it s not Perfessional! It s jes* a shame at Doc hisse f hain t got No better business-sense I That s why lots d respect him more, And not give him the clean go-by fer other docters. Shore ! This-here Doc Glenn, fer instance; er this little jack-leg Hall; They re business folks respects em fer their business more n all They ever knowed, or ever will, bout medicine. Yit they Collect their money, k-yore er kill. They re business, any way] You ast Jake Dunn : he s worked it out in figgers. He kin show Statistics how Doc s airnt about three fortunes in a row, Ever ten-year hand-runnin straight three of em thirty year At Jake kin count and lucidate o Sifers practise here. 494 THE HOOSIER BOOK Vit "Praise the Lord," says Doc, "we ve got our little home !" says he "(It s railly Winniferd s, but what she owns, she sheers with me.) We got our little gyarden-spot, and peach and apple trees, And stable, too, and chicken-lot, and eighteen hive o bees." You call it anything you please, but it s witchcraft the power At Sifers has o handlin bees ! He ll watch em by the hour Mix right amongst em, mad and hot and swarmin ! yit they won t Sting him, er want to pear to not, at least I know they don t. With me and bees they s no p tense o sociability A dad-burn bee ud climb a fence to git a whack at me! I s pose no thing at s got a sting is railly satisfied It s sharp enough, ontel, i jing! he s honed it on my hide! And Doc he s allus had a knack inventin things. Dee-vised A windlass wound its own se f back as it run down : and s prised ;JH Their new hired girl with clothes-line, too, and clothes-pins, all in one: Purt nigh all left fer her to do wuz git her primpin donel And onc t, I mind, in airly Spring, and tappin sugar trees, Doc made a dad-burn little thing to sharpen spiles with these- 495 THE HOOSIER BOOK Here wood -spouts at the peth s punched out, and driv in where they bore The auger-holes. He sharpened bout a million spiles er more ! And Doc s the first man ever swung a bucket on a tree Instid o troughs; and first man brung grained sugar so s at he Could use it fer his coffee, and fer cookin , don t you know. Folks come clean up from Pleasantland fore they d believe it, though! And all Doc s stable-doors owlocks and locks theirse ves and gates The same way; all rigged up like clocks, with pulleys, wheels, and weights, So, s Doc says, "Drivin out, er in, they ll open; and they ll then, All quiet-like, shet up ag in like little gentlemen !" And Doc ud made a mighty good detective. Neighbers all Will testify to that er could, ef they wuz legal call : His theories on any crime is worth your listenin to. And he has hit em, many a time, long fore established true At this young druggist Wenfield Pence s trial fer his life, On primy faishy evidence o pizonin his wife Doc s testimony saved and cle red and quitted him and freed Him so s he never even peared cog-m>ant of the deed ! 496 THE HOOSIER BOOK The facts wuz Sifers testified, at inquest he had found The stunimick showed the woman died o pizon, but had downed The dos t herse f, because amount and cost o drug im- ployed No druggist would, on no account, a lavished and dis- troyed ! : 3iUD li/orlliw Ui>J bus ,om 19 trov ZR TID oJ qc aA. Doc tracked a blame-don burglar down, and nailed the scamp, to boot, But told him ef he d leave the town he wouldn t prosecute. He traced him by a tied-up thumb-print in fresh putty, where Doc glazed it. Jes that s how he come to track him to his lair! I nv/oJ 3iff ni ncm J=->,l brrc ; ariil-J^jbml-i^Jicv/ nirmoV^LJ Doc s jes a te^te too inclined, some thinks, to overlook The criminal and vicious kind we d ort to bring to book And punish, thout no extry show o sympathizing where They hain t showed none fer us, you know. But he takes issue there : Doc argies at "The Red-eyed Law," as he says, "ort ta learn To lay a mighty leenient paw on deeds o sich concern As only the Good Bein knows the wherefore of, and spreads His hands above accused and sows His mercies on their heads." Doc even holds at murder hain t no crime we got a right To hang a man fer claims it s taint o lunacy, er quite. 497 THE HOOSIER BOOK "Hold slch a man responsibul fer murder," Doc says, "then, When he s hung, where s the rope to pull them sound-mind "It s in a nutshell all kin see," says Doc, "it s cle r the Law s As ap to err as you er me, and kill without a cause : The man most innocent o sin I ve saw, er sped to see, Wuz servin a life-sentence in the penitentchury." And Doc s a whole hand at a fire! directin how and where To set your ladders, low er higher, and what first duties air, Like formin warter-bucket-line ; and best man in the town To chop holes in old roofs, and mine defective chimblies down : Er durin any public crowd, mass-meetin , er big day, Where ladies ortn t be allowed, as I ve heerd Sifers say, When they s a suddent rush somewhere, it s Doc s voice, ca m and cle r, Says, "Fall back, men, and give her air ! that s all she s faintin fer." bfi ,*o STOT-ITMIW 3(fi wouA nbH boor) oifj vjiJi- The sorriest I ever feel fer Doc is when some show Er circus comes to town and he ll not git a chance to go. Cause he jes natchurly flights in circuses clean down From tumblers, in their spangled tights, to trick-mule and Old Clown. THE HOOSIER BOOK And ever body knows it, too, how Doc is, thataway ! . . . I mind a circus onc t come through wuz there myse f that day. Ring-master cracked his whip, you know, to start the ridin when In runs Old Clown and hollers "Whoa! Ladies and gen tlemen - -.Tiion ~tri;g}fn .b ^-tt/jdi f>m 3>lrn II 1 TV* -jfio-Ufi A "Of this vast audience, I fain would make inquiry cle r, And learn, find out, and ascertain Is Doctor Sifers here?" And when some fool-voice bellers down : "He is ! He s settin in Full view o ye !" "Then," says the Clown, "the circus may begin!" id GJ Vvi I/aw ? gdi^zbiJd i>;i:t HI; vcniflj !>;? r-^bi ;;;"// Doc s got a temper; but, he says, he s learnt it which is boss, Yit has to watch it, more er less. ... I never seen him cross But onc t, enough to make him swear ; milch-cow stepped on his toe, And Doc ripped out "/ doggies!" There s the only case I know. Doc says that s what your temper s fer to hold back out o view, And learn it never to occur on out ahead o you. "You lead the way," says Sifers "git your temper back in line And furdest back the best, ef it s as mean a one as mine !" He hates contentions can t abide a wrangle er dispute O any kind; and he ull slide out of a crowd and skoot 499 THE HOOSIER BOOK Up some back-alley fore he ll stand and listen TO a furse When ary one s got upper-hand and t other one s got worse. Doc says : "I spise, when pore and weak and awk ard talkers fails, To see it s them with hardest cheek and loudest mouth pervails. A all-one-sided quarr l 11 make me biassed, mighty near, Cause ginerly the side I take s the one I never hear." "\VV>& vvA i6 "UiVit^l v\ uisntr;;-i; JMt .iij.o.I. i nft ,in/; ; ;f ln\>. What peals to Doc the most and best is "seein folks agreed, And takin ekal interest and universal heed O ever body else s words and idies same as we Wuz glad and chirpy as the birds jes as we d art to be!" And pater otic! Like to git Doc started, full and fair, About the war, and why t uz fit, and what wuz complished there ; "And who wuz wrong" says Doc, "er right, t uz waste o blood and tears, All prophesied in Black and White fer years and years and And then he ll likely kind o tetch on old John Brown, and dwell On what his warnin s wuz ; and ketch his breath and cough, and tell On down to Lincoln s death. And then well, he jes chokes and quits With "I must go now, gentlemen !" and grabs his hat, and gits! 500 THE HOOSIER BOOK Doc s own war-rickord wuzn t won so much in line o fight As line o work and nussin done the wownded, day and night. His wuz the hand, through dark and dawn, at bound their wownds, and laid As soft as their own mother s on their forreds when they prayed. . . . His wuz the face they saw the first all dim, but smilin bright, As they come to and knowed the worst, yit saw the old Red-White- And-Blue where Doc had fixed it where they d see it wavin still, Out through the open tent-flap there, er crost the winder- sill. And some s a-limpin round here yit a-waitin Last Re view, Ud give the pensions at they git, and pawn their crutches, too, To he p Doc out, ef he wuz pressed financial same as he Has allus he pped them when distressed ner never tuk a fee. Doc never wuz much hand to pay attention to p tcnsc And fuss-and-f eathers and display in men o prominence : "A railly great man," Sifers lows, "is not the out ard dressed All uniform, salutes and bows, and swellin out his chest. 501 THE HOOSIER BOOK "I met a great man onc t," Doc says, "and shuk his hand," says he, "And he come bout in one, I guess, o disapp intin* me He talked so common-like, and brought his mind so cle r in view And simple-like, I purt nigh .thought, I m best man o the two ! " Yes-JtV/ Doc s got convictions and old-fashioned kind o ways And idies bout this glorious Land o Freedom ; and he ll raise His hat clean off, no matter where, jes ever time he sees The Stars and Stripes a-floatin there and flappin in the breeze. And tunes like old "Red-White-and-Blue" 11 fairly drive him wild, Played on the brass band, marchin through the streets ! Jes like a child I ve saw that man, his smile jes set, all kind o pale and white, Bareheaded, and his eyes all wet, yit dancin with delight ! And yit, that very man we see all trimbly, pale and wann, Give him a case o surgery, we ll see another man ! We ll do the trimblin then, and we ll git white around the gills He ll show us nerve o nerves, and he ull show us skill o skills ! 502 THE HOOSIER BOOK Then you could toot your horns and beat your drums and bang your guns, And wave your flags and march the street, and charge, all Freedom s sons ! And Sifers then, 1 bet my hat, ud never flinch a hair, But, stiddy-handed, tend to that pore patient layin 1 there. And Sifers eye s as stiddy as that hand o his ! He ll shoot A old-style rifle, like he has, and smallest bore, to boot, With any fancy rifles made to-day, er expert shot At works at shootin like a trade and all some of em 1 ? got! .H[-/Krrr" -T ".ib/iM 1 * 10 ",>Ltoi" botafi jTd-sMrfob ^iJ }I;QT^ A Let em go right out in the woods with Doc, and leave theii "traps" And blame glass-balls and queensware-goods, and see how Sifers draps A squirrel out the tallest tree. And fore he fires he ll say Jes where he ll hit him yes, sir-ee! And he s hit that- away! ilj,,-, Let em go out with him, i jucks! with fishin -pole and gun, And ekal chances, fish and ducks, and take the rain, er sun, Jes as it pours, er as it blinds the eyesight ; then I guess At they d acknowledge, in their minds, their disadvantages. And yit he d be the last man out to flap his wings and crow Tnsultin -like, and strut about above his fallen foe ! No-jiV/ the hand at tuk the wind out o their sails ud be The very first they grabbed, and grinned to feel sich sym pathy. 503 THE HOOSIER BOOK Doc gits off now and then and takes a huntin -trip some where Bont Kankakee, up mongst the lakes sometimes ll drift round there In his canoe a week er two ; then paddle clean on back By way o old Wabash and Blue, with fish all he kin pack, jn.-..ri? [I .sH -! ?.irl o Im^ii .tr.fb S.R vbbiie ,-f, ?/ >//> ^T^tiri b rt/x And wild ducks some with feathers on em yit, and stuffed with grass. And neighbers all knows he s bin gone comes round and gits a bass A great big double-breasted "rock," er "black," er maybe pair Half fills a ordinary crock. . . . Doc s fish ll give out there Long fore his ducks! But folks ll smile and blandish him, and make Him tell and tell things! all the while enjoy em jes fer sake O pleasin him; and then turn in and la nch him from the start A-tellin all the things ag in they railly know by heart. He s jes a child, s what Sifers is! And-sir, I d ruther see That happy, childish face o his, and puore simplicity, Than any shape er style er plan o mortals otherwise With perfect faith in God and man a-shinin in his eyes. TAMAM 504 A CHILD-WORLD 251 The Child-World A CHILD-WORLD, yet a wondrous world no less, To those who knew its boundless happiness. A simple old frame house eight rooms in all Set just one side the center of a small But very hopeful Indiana town, The upper story looking squarely down Upon the main street, and the main highway From East to West, historic in its day, Known as The National Road old-timers, all Who linger yet, will happily recall It as the scheme and handiwork, as well As property, of "Uncle Sam," and tell Of its importance, "long and long afore Railroads wuz ever drcamp of !" Furthermore The reminiscent first inhabitants Will make that old road blossom with romance Of snowy caravans, in long parade Of covered vehicles, of every grade From ox-cart of most primitive design, To Conestoga wagons, with their fine Deep-chested six-horse teams, in heavy gear, High hames and chiming bells to childish ear And eye entrancing as the glittering train Of some sun-smitten pageant of old Spain. 505 THE HOOSIER BOOK And, in like spirit, haply they will tell You of the roadside forests, and the yell Of "wolfs" and "painters," in the long night-ride, And "screechin catamounts" on every side. Of stage-coach days, highwaymen, and strange crimes, And yet unriddled mysteries of the times Called "Good Old." "And why Good Old ?" once a rare Old chronicler was asked, who brushed the hair Out of his twinkling eyes and said, "Well, John, They re good old times because they re dead and The old home site was portioned into three Distinctive lots. The front one natively Facing to southward, broad and gaudy-fine With lilac, dahlia, rose, and flowering vine The dwelling stood in ; and behind that, and Upon the alley north and south, left hand, The old wood-house, half, trimly stacked with wood, And half, a workshop, where a work-bench stood Steadfastly through all seasons. Over it, Along the wall, hung compass, brace-and-bit, And square, and drawing-knife, and smooth ing-plane And little jack-plane, too the children s vain Possession by pretense in fancy they Manipulating it in endless play, Turning out countless curls and loops of bright, Fine satin shavings Rapture infinite! Shelved quilting-frames ; the tool-chest ; the old box Of refuse nails and screws; a rough gun-stock s 506 THE HOOSIER BOOK Outline in "curly maple"; and a pair Of clamps and old kraut-cutter hanging there. Some "patterns," in thin wood, of shield and scroll, Hung higher, with a neat "cane-fishing pole" And careful tackle all securely out Of reach of children, rumaging about. Beside the wood-house, with broad branches free Yet close above the roof, an apple-tree Known as "The Prince s Harvest" Magic phrase! That was a boy s own tree, in many ways ! Its girth and height meet both for the caress Of his bare legs and his ambitiousness : And then its apples, humoring his whim, Seemed just to fairly hurry ripe for him Even in June, impetuous as he, They dropped to meet him, half-way up the tree. And O their bruised sweet faces where they fell ! And ho ! the lips that feigned to "kiss them well"! "The Old Sweet-Apple Tree," a stalwart, stood In fairly sympathetic neighborhood Of this wild princeling with his early gold To toss about so lavishly nor hold In bounteous hoard to overbrim at once All Nature s lap when came the Autumn months. Under the spacious shade of this the eyes Of swinging children saw swift-changing skies Of blue and green, with sunshine shot between, And "when the old cat died" they saw but green. And, then, there was a cherry tree. We all And severally will yet recall SO? THE HOOSIER BOOK From our lost youth, in gentlest memory, The hlessed fact There was a cherry tree. There was a cherry tree. Its bloomy snows Cool even now the fevered sight that knows No more its airy visions of pure joy As when you were a boy. There was a cherry tree. The Bluejay set His blue against its white O blue as jet He seemed there then! But now Whoever knew He was so pale a blue! There was a cherry tree Our child-eyes saw The miracle: Its pure white snows did thaw Into a crimson fruitage, far too sweet But for a boy to eat. There was a cherry tree, give thanks and joy! There was a bloom of snow There was a boy There was a Bluejay of the realest blue And fruit for both of you. Then the old garden, with the apple trees Grouped round the margin, and "a stand of bees" By the "white-winter-pearmain" ; and a row Of currant-bushes; and a quince or so. The old grape-arbor in the center, by The pathway to the stable, with the sty Behind it, and upon it, cootering flocks Of pigeons, and the cutest "martin-box" ! Made like a sure-enough house with roof, and doors And windows in it, and veranda-floors And balusters all round it yes, and at Each end a chimney -"painted red at that And penciled white, to look like little bricks; And, to cap all the builder s cunning tricks, 508 THE HOOS1ER BOOK Two tiny little lightning-rods were run Straight up their sides, and twinkled in the sun. Who built ic? Nay, no answer but a smile. It may be you can guess who, afterwhile. Home in his stall, "Old Sorrel" munched his hay And oats and corn, and switched the flies away, In a repose of patience good to see, And. earnest of the gentlest pedigree. With half pathetic eye sometimes he gazed Upon the gambols of a colt that grazed Around the edges of the lot outside, And kicked at nothing suddenly, and tried To act grown-up and graceful and high-bred, But dropped, k whop I and scraped the buggy-shed, Leaving a tuft of woolly, foxy hair Under the sharp-end of a gate-hinge there. Then, all ignobly scrambling to his feet And whinnying a whinny like a bleat, He would pursue himself around the lot And do the whole thing over, like as not! . ; ; Ah! what a life of constant fear and dread And flop and squawk and flight the chickens led ! Above the fences, either side, were seen The neighbor-houses, set in plots of green Dooryards and greener gardens, tree and wall Alike whitewashed, and order in it all : The scythe hooked in the tree-fork; and the spade And hoe and rake and shovel all, when laid Aside, were in their places, ready for The hand of either the possessor or Of any neighbor, welcome to the loan Of any tool he might not chance to own. 509 THE HOOSIER BOOK 252 The Old Home-Folks SUCH was the Child-World of the long-ago The little world these children used to know : Johnty, the oldest, and the best, perhaps, Of the five happy little Hoosier chaps Inhabiting this wee world all their own. Johnt} , the leader, with his native tone Of grave command a general on parade Whose punctilious order was obeyed By his proud followers. But Johnty yet After all serious duties could forget The gravity of life to the extent, At times, of kindling much astonishment About him : With a quick, observant eye, And mind and memory, he could supply The tamest incident with liveliest mirth ; And at the most unlooked-for times on earth Was wont to break into some travesty On those around him feats of mimicry Of this one s trick of gesture that one s walk Or this one s laugh or that one s funny talk, The way "the watermelon-man" would try His humor on town-folks that wouldn t buy ; How he drove into town at morning then At dusk (alas!) how he drove out again. Though these divertisements of Johnty s were Hailed with a hearty glee and relish, there Appeared a sense, on his part, of regret A spirit of remorse that would not let 5*0 THE HOOSIER BOOK Him rest for days thereafter. Such times he, As some boy said, "jist got too overly Blame good fer common boys like us, you know, To .yociate with less n we ud go And jine his church !" Next after Johnty came His little towhead brother, Bud by name. And O how white his hair was and how thick His face with freckles, and his ears, how quick And curious and intrusive ! And how pale The blue of his big eyes ; and how a tale Of Giants, Trolls or Fairies, bulged them still Bigger and bigger ! and when "Jack" would kill The old "Four-headed Giant," Bud s big eyes Were swollen truly into giant-size. And Bud was apt in make-believes would hear His Grandma talk or read, with such an ear And memory of both subject and big words, That he would take the book up afterwards And feign to "read aloud," with such success As caused his truthful elders real distress. But he must have big words they seemed to give, Extremer range to the superlative That was his passion. "My Gran ma," he said, One evening, after listening as she read Some heavy old historical review With copious explanations thereunto Drawn out by his inquiring turn of mind, "My Gran ma she s read all books ever kind They is, at tells all bout the land an sea An Nations of the Earth ! An she is the THE HOOSIER BOOK Historicul-est woman ever wuz !" (Forgive the verse s chuckling as it does In its erratic current. Oftentimes The little willowy water-brook of rhymes Must falter in its music, listening to The children laughing as they used to do.) Who shall sing a simple ditty all about the Willow Dainty-fine and delicate as any bending spray That dandles high the happy bird that flutters there to trill a Tremulously tender song of greeting to the May. Bravest, too, of all the trees! none to match your daring, First of greens to greet the Spring and lead in leafy sheen Ay, and you re the last almost into winter wearing Still the leaf of loyalty still the badge of green. Ah, my lovely Willow! Let the Waters lilt your graces, They alone with limpid kisses lave your leaves above, Flashing back your sylvan beauty, and in shady places Peering up with glimmering pebbles, like the eyes of love. Next, Maymie, with her hazy cloud of hair, And the blue skies of eyes beneath it there. Her dignified and "little lady" airs Of never either romping up the stairs Or falling down them ; thoughtful every way Of others first The kind of child at play That "gave up," for the rest, the ripest pear Or peach or apple in the garden there Beneath the trees where swooped the airy swing- She pushing it, too glad for anything ! Or, in the character of hostess, she Would entertain her friends delightfully 512 THE HOOS1ER BOOK In her playhouse, with strips of carpet laid Along the garden-fence within the shade Of the old apple trees where from next yard Came the two dearest friends in her regard, The little Crawford girls, Ella and Lu As shy and lovely as the lilies grew In their idyllic home, yet sometimes they Admitted Bud and Alex to their play, Who did their heavier work and helped them fix To have a "Festibul" and brought the bricks And built the "stove," with a real fire and all, And stove-pipe joint for chimney, looming tall And wonderfully smoky even to Their childish aspirations, as it blew And swooped and swirled about them till their sight Was feverish even as their high delight. Then Alex, with his freckles, and his freaks Of temper, and the peach-bloom of his cheeks, And "amber-colored hair" his mother said Twas that, when others laughed and called it "red" And Alex threw things at them till they d call A truce, agreeing " t uz n t red ut-tall!" But Alex was affectionate beyond The average child, and was extremely fond Of the paternal relatives of his Or whom he once made estimate like this : "I m only got two brothers, but my Pa He s got most brothers n you ever saw! He s goth seben brothers .Yes, an they re all my Seben Uncles! Uncle John, an Jim, an I Got Uncle George, an Uncle Andy, too, An Uncle Frank, an Uncle Joe. An you 513 THE HOOSIER BOOK Knoiv Uncle Mart. An , all but him, they re great Big mens! An nen s Aunt Sarah She makes eight! I m got eight uncles ! cept Aunt Sarah can t Be ist my uncle cause she s ist my aunt!" n ! kilt; r-: ii -i , f !.: ;, isfwin".; .I; 1 :. .. Then, next to Alex and the last indeed Of these five little ones of whom you read Was baby Lizzie, with her velvet lisp, As though her elfin lips had caught some wisp Of floss between them as they strove with speech, Which ever seemed just in, yet out of, reach Though what her lips missed, her dark eyes could say With looks that made her meaning clear as day. And, knowing now the children, you must know The father and the mother they loved so: The father was a swarthy man, black-eyed, Black-haired, and high of forehead; and, beside The slender little mother, seemed in truth A very king of men since, from his youth, To his hale manhood now (worthy as then, A lawyer and a leading citizen Of the proud little town and county-seat His hopes his neighbors , and their fealty sweet) He had known outdoor labor rain and shine Bleak Winter, and bland Summer foul and fine. So Nature had ennobled him and set Her symbol on him like a coronet: His lifted brow, and frank, reliant face. Superior of stature as of grace, Even the children by the spell were wrought THE HOOSIER BOOK Up to heroics of their simple thought, And saw him, trim of build, and lithe and straight And tall, almost, as at the pasture-gate The towering ironweed the scythe had spared For their sakes, when The Hired Man declared It would grow on till it became a tree, With cocoanuts and monkeys in maybe! Yet, though the children, in their pride and awe And admiration of the father, saw A being so exalted even more Like adoration was the love they bore The gentle mother. Her mild, plaintive face Was purely fair, and haloed with a grace And sweetness luminous when joy made glad Her features with a smile; or saintly sad As twilight, fell the sympathetic gloom Of any childish grief, or as a room Were darkened suddenly, the curtain drawn Across the window and the sunshine gone. Her brow, below her fair hair s glimmering strands, Seemed meetest resting-place for blessing hands Or holiest touches of soft finger-tips A .id little rose-leaf cheeks and dewy lips. Though heavy household tasks were pitiless, No little waist or coat or checkered dress But knew her needle s deftness ; and no skill Matched hers in shaping plait or flounce or frill ; Or fashioning, in complicate design, All rich embroideries of leaf and vine, 515 THE HOOSIER BOOK With tiniest twining tendril, bud and bloom And fruit, so like, one s fancy caught perfume And dainty touch and taste of them, to see Their semblance wrought in such rare verity. Shrined in her sanctity of home and love, And love s fond service and reward thereof, Restore her thus, O blessed Memory! Throned in her rocking-chair, and on her knee Her sewing her work-basket on the floor Beside her, Spring-time through the open door Balmily stealing in and all about The room; the bees dim hum, and the far shout And laughter of the children at their play, And neighbor children from across the way Calling in gleeful challenge save alone One boy whose voice sends back no answering tone The boy, prone on the floor, above a book Of pictures, with a rapt, ecstatic look Even as the mother s, by the selfsame spell, Is lifted, with a light ineffable- As though her senses caught no mortal cry. But heard, instead, some poem going by. The Child-heart is so strange a little thing So mild so timorously shy and small, - When grown-up hearts throb, it goes scampering Behind the wall, nor dares peer out at all! It is the veriest mouse That hides in any house So wild a little thing is any Child-heart. Child-heart ! mild h eart ! Ho, my little wild heart! Come up here to me out o the dark, Or let me come to you! 516 THE HOOSIER BOOK So lorn at times the Child-heart needs must be, With never one maturer heart for friend And comrade, whose tear-ripened sympathy And love might lend it comfort to the end, Whose yearnings, aches and stings, Over poor little things Were pitiful as ever any Child-heart. Child-heart ! -mild heart! Ho, my little wild heart t Come up here to me out o the dark, Or let me come to you I Times, too, the little Child-heart must be glad Being so young, nor knowing, as we know, The fact from fantasy, the good from bad, The joy from woe, the all that hurts us so! What wonder then that thus It hides away from us? So weak a little thing is any Child-heart! Child-heart! mild heart! Ho, my little wild heart! Come up here to me out o the dark, Or let me come to you! Nay, little Child-heart, you have never need To fear us; we are weaker far than you Tis we who should be fearful we indeed Should hide us, too, as darkly as you do, Safe, as yourself, withdrawn, Hearing the World roar on Too wilful, woeful, awful for the Child-heart! Child-heart! mild heart! Ho, my little wild heart! Come up here to me out o the dark, Or let me come to you! The clock chats on confidingly ; a rose Taps at the window, as the sunlight throws A brilliant, jostling checkerwork of shine And shadow, like a Persian-loom design, 517 THE HOOSIER BOOK Across the home-made carpet fades, and then The dear old colors are themselves again. Sounds drop in visiting from everywhere The bluebird s and the robin s trill are there, Their sweet liquidity diluted some By dewy orchard-spaces they have come : Sounds of the town, too, and the great highway The Mover-wagons rumble, and the neigh Of over-traveled horses, and the bleat Of sheep and low of cattle through the street A Nation s thoroughfare of hopes and fears, First blazed by the heroic pioneers Who gave up old-home idols and set face Toward the unbroken West, to found a race And tame a wilderness now mightier than All peoples and all tracts American. Blent with all outer sounds, the sounds within : In mild remoteness falls the household din Of porch and kitchen: the dull jar and thump Of churning; and the "glung-glung" of the pump, With sudden pad and scurry of bare feet Of little outlaws, in from field or street: The clang of kettle, rasp of damper-ring And bang of cook-stove door and everything That jingles in a busy kitchen lifts Its individual wrangling voice and drifts In sweetest tinny, coppery, pewtery tone Of music hungry ear has ever known In wildest famished yearning and conceit Of youth, to just cut loose and eat and eat! The zest of hunger still incited on To childish desperation by long-drawn THE HOOSIER BOOK Breaths of hot, steaming, wholesome things that stew And blubber, and up-tilt the pot-lids, too. Filling the sense with zestful rumors of The dear old-fashioned dinners children love : Redolent savorings of home-cured meats, Potatoes, beans and cabbage ; turnips, beets And parsnips rarest composite entire That ever pushed a mortal child s desire To madness by new-grated fresh, keen, sharp Horseradish tang that sets the lips awarp And watery, anticipating all The cloyed sweets of the glorious festival. Still add the cinnamony, spicy scents Of clove, nutmeg, and myriad condiments In like-alluring whiffs that prophesy Of sweltering pudding, cake and custard-pie The swooning-sweet aroma haunting all The house up-stairs and down porch, parlor, hall And sitting-room invading even where The Hired Man sniffs it in the orchard-air, And pauses in his pruning of the trees To note the sun minutely and to sneeze. Then Cousin Rufus comes the children hear His hale voice in the old hall, ringing clear As any bell. Always he came with song Upon his lips and all the happy throng Of echoes following him, even as the crowd Of his admiring little kinsmen proud To have a cousin grown and yet as young Of soul and cheery as the songs he sung. 519 THE HOOSIER BOOK He was a student of the law intent Soundly to win success, with all it meant; And so he studied even as he played, With all his heart : And so it was he made His gallant fight for fortune through all stress Of battle bearing him with cheeriness And wholesome valor. And the children had Another relative who kept them glad And joyous by his very merry ways As blithe and sunny as the summer days, Their father s youngest brother Uncle Mart. The old "Arabian Nights" he knew by heart "Baron Munchausen," too ; and likewise "The Swiss Family Robinson." And when these three Gave out, as he rehearsed them, he could go Straight on in the same line a steady flow Of arabesque invention that his good Old mother never clearly understood. He was to be a printer wanted, though, To be an actor. But the world was "show" Enough for him, theatric, airy, gay, Each day to him was jolly as a play. And some poetic symptoms, too, in sooth, Were certain. And, from his apprentice youth, He joyed in verse-quotations which he took Out of the old "Type Foundry Specimen Book." He craved and courted most the favor of The children. They were foremost in his love ; And pleasing them, he pleased his own boy-heart A.nd kept it young and fresh in every part. 520 THE HOOSIER BOOK So was it he devised for them and wrought To life his quaintest, most romantic thought: Like some lone castaway in alien seas, He built a house up in the apple trees, Out in the corner of the garden, where No man-devouring native, prowling there, Might pounce upon them in the dead o night For lo, their little ladder, slim and light, They drew up after them. And it was known That Uncle Mart slipped up sometimes alone And drew the ladder in, to lie and moon Over some novel all the afternoon. And one time Johnty, from the crowd below, Outraged to find themselves deserted so Threw bodily their old black cat up in The airy fastness, with much yowl and din Resulting, while a wild periphery Of cat went circling to another tree, And, in impassioned outburst, Uncle Mart Loomed up, and thus relieved his tragic heart: ;<] -h ?.& ,?83leod biLG sHv/ ,ho8. dlq arh oT " Hence, long-tailed, ebon-eyed, nocturnal ranger! What led thee hither mongst the types and cases? Didst thou not know that running midnight races O er standing types was fraught with imminent danger? Did hunger lead thce didst thou think to find Some rich old cheese to fill thy hungry maw? Vain hope! for none but literary jaw Can masticate our cookery for the mind! " ,. >ff pt.U^uo^.o >J>aLri% 9.lp>rit si J^f JA So likewise when, with lordly air and grace, He strode to dinner, with a tragic face 521 THE HOOSIER BOOK With ink-spots on it from the office, he Would aptly quote more "Specimen-poetry " Perchance like "Labor s bread is sweet to eat, (Ahem!) And toothsome is the toiler s meat. " Ah, could you see them all, at lull of noon ! A sort of boisterous lull, with clink of spoon And clatter of deflecting knife, and plate Dropped saggingly, with its all-bounteous weight, And dragged in place voraciously; and then Pent exclamations, and the lull again. The garland of glad faces round the board- Each member of the family restored To his or her place, with an extra chair Or two for the chance guests so often there. The father s farmer-client brought home from The court room, though he "didn t want to come Tel he jist saw he hat to!" he d explain, Invariably, time and time again, To the pleased wife and hostess, as she pressed Another cup of coffee on the guest. Or there was Johnty s special chum, perchance, Or Bud s, or both each childish countenance Lit with a higher glow of youthful glee, To be together thus unbrokenly, Jim Offut, or Eck Skinner, or George Carr The very nearest chums of Bud s these are, So, very probably, one of the three, At least, is there with Bud, or ought to be. Like interchange the town-boys each had known His playmate s dinner better than his own 522 THE HOOSIER BOOK Yet blest that he was ever made to stay At Almon Keefer s, any blessed day. For any meal ! . . . Visions of biscuits, hot And flaky-perfect, with the golden blot Of molten butter for the center, clear, Through pools of clover-honey dear-o-dear! With creamy milk for its divine "farewell" : And then, if any one delectable Might yet exceed in sweetness, O restore The cherry-cobbler of the days of yore Made only by Al Reefer s mother ! Why, The very thought of it ignites the eye Of memory with rapture cloys the lip Of longing, till it seems to ooze and drip With veriest juice and stain and over waste Of that most sweet delirium of taste That ever visited the childish tongue, Or proved, as now, the sweetest thing unsung. Ah, Almon Keef er ! what a boy you were, With your back-tilted hat and careless hair, And open, honest, fresh, fair face and eyes With their all-varying looks of pleased surprise And joyous interest in flower and tree, And poising humming-bird, and maundering bee. The fields and woods he knew; the tireless tramp With gun and dog ; and the night-fisher s camp No other boy, save Bee Lineback, had won Such brilliant mastery of rod and gun. Even in his earliest childhood had he shown These traits that marked him as his father s own. 523 THE HOOSIER BOOK Dogs all paid Almon honor and bow-wowed Allegiance, let him come in any crowd Of rabbit-hunting town-boys, even though His own clog "Sleuth" rebuked their acting so With jealous snarls and growlings. But the best Of Almon s virtues leading all the rest Was his great love of books, and skill as well In reading them aloud, and by the spell Thereof enthralling his mute listeners, as They grouped about him in the orchard-grass, Hinging their bare shins in the mottled shine And shade, as they lay prone, or stretched supine Beneath their favorite tree, with dreamy eyes And Argo-fancies voyaging the skies. "Tales of the Ocean" was the name of one Old dog s-eared book that was surpassed by none Of all the glorious list. Its back was gone, But its vitality went bravely on In such delicious tales of land and sea As may not ever perish utterly. Of still more dubious caste, "Jack Sheppard" drew Full admiration; and "Dick Turpin," too. And, painful as the fact is to convey, In certain lurid tales of their own day, These boys found thieving heroes and outlaws They hailed v/ith equal fervor of applause ; "The League of the Miami" why, the name Alone was fascinating is the same, In memory, this venerable hour Of moral wisdom shorn of all its power, 524 THE HOOSIER BOOK As it tmblushingly reverts to when The old barn was "the Cave," and hears again The signal blown, outside the buggy-shed The drowsy guard within uplifts his head, And " Who goes there? 3 is called, in bated breath The challenge answered in a hush of death, "Sh! Barney Gray! " And then " What do you seek? " " Stables of the League! " the voice comes spent and weak. For, ha! the Law is on the "Chieftain s" trail Tracked to his very lair! Well, what avail? The "secret entrance" opens closes. So The "Robber-Captain" thus outwits his foe; And, safe once more within his "cavern-halls," He shakes his clenched fist at the warped plank-walls And mutters his defiance through the cracks At the balked Enemy s retreating backs As the loud horde flees pell-mell do\vn the lane, And Almon Kecfer is himself again! Excepting few, they were not books indeed Of deep import that Almon chose to read; Less fact than fiction. Much he favored those If not in poetry, in hectic prose That made our native Indian a wild, Feathered and fine-preened hero that a child Could recommend as just about the thing To make a god of, or at least a king. Aside from Almon s own books two or three His store of lore The Township Library Supplied him weekly: All the books with "or"s Sub-titled lured him after "Indian Wars," And "Life of Daniel Boone," not to include Some few books spiced with humor, "Robin Hood" 525 THE HOOSIER BOOK And rare "Don Quixote." And one time he took "Dadd s Cattle Doctor." . . . How he hugged the book And hurried homeward, with internal glee And humorous spasms of expectancy! All this confession as he promptly made It, the day later, writhing in the shade Of the old apple tree with Johnty and Bud, Noey Bixler, and The Hired Hand- Was quite as funny as the book was not. . . . O Wonderland of wayward Childhood! what An easy, breezy realm of summer calm And dreamy gleam and gloom and bloom and balm Thou art! The Lotus-Land the poet sung, It is the Child-World while the heart beats young. . . . While the heart beats young! O the splendor of the Spring, With all her dewy jewels on, is not so fair a thing! The fairest, rarest morning of the blossom-time of May Is not so sweet a season as the season of to-day While Youth s diviner climate folds and holds us, close caressed, As we feel our mothers with us by the touch of face and breast; Our bare feet in the meadows, and our fancies up among The airy clouds of morning while the heart beats young. While the heart beats young and our pulses leap and dance, With every day a holiday and life a glad romance. We hear the birds with wonder, and with wonder watch their flight Standing still the more enchanted, both of hearing and of sight, When they have vanished wholly, for, in fancy, wing-to-wing We fly to Heaven with them; and, returning, still we sing The praises of this lower Heaven with tireless voice and tongue, Even as the Master sanctions while the heart beats young. While the heart beats young! While the heart beats young! O green and gold old Earth of ours, with azure overhung And looped with rainbows! grant us yet this grassy lap of thine We would be still thy children, through the shower and the shine! 526 THE HOOSIER BOOK So pray we, lisping, whispering, in childish love and trust, With our beseeching hands and faces lifted from the dust By fervor of the poem, all unwritten and unsung, Thou givest us in answer, while the heart beats young. Another hero of those youthful years Returns, as Noey Bixler s name appears. And Noey if in any special way Was notably good-natured. Work or play He entered into with selfsame delight A wholesome interest that made him quite As many friends among the old as young, So everywhere were Noey s praises sung. And he was awkward, fat and overgrown, With a round full-moon face, that fairly shone As though to meet the simile s demand. And, cumbrous though he seemed, both eye and hand Were dowered with the discernment and deft skill Of the true artisan : He shaped at will, In his old father s shop, on rainy days, Little toy-wagons, and curved-runner sleighs; The trimmest bows and arrows fashioned, too, Of "seasoned timber," such as Noey knew How to select, prepare, and then complete, And call his little friends in from the street. "The very best bow," Noey used to say, "Hain t made o ash ner hick ry thataway! But you git mulberry the bearin -tree, Now mind ye ! and you fetch the piece to me, And lemme git it seasoned; then, i gum ! I ll make a bow at you kin brag on some! 527 THE HOOSIER BOOK Er ef you can t git mulberry, you bring Me a old locus hitch-post, and i jing! I ll make a bow o that at common bows Won t dast to pick on ner turn up their nose!" And Noey knew the woods, and all the trees, And thickets, plants and myriad mysteries Of swamp and bottom-land. And he knew where The ground-hog hid, and why located there. He knew all animals that burrowed, swam, Or lived in tree-tops : And, by race and dam, He knew the choicest, safest deeps wherein Fish-traps might flourish nor provoke the sin Of theft in some chance peeking, prying sneak, Or town-boy, prowling up and down the creek. All four-pawed creatures tamable he knew Their outer and their inner natures too; While they, in turn, were drawn to him as by Some subtle recognition of a tie Of love, as true as truth from end to end, Between themselves and this strange human friend. The same with birds he knew them every one, And he could "name them, too, without a gun." No wonder Johnty loved him, even to The verge of worship. Noey led him through The art of trapping redbirds yes, and taught Him how to keep them when he had them caught What food they needed, and just where to swing The cage, if he expected them to sing. And Bud loved Noey, for the little pair Of stilts he made him ; or the stout old hair Trunk Noey put on wheels, and laid a track Of scantling-railroad for it in the back 528 THE HOOSIER BOOK Part of the barn-lot ; or the cross-bow, made Just like a gun, which deadly weapon laid Against his shoulder as he aimed, and "Sping! He d hear the rusty old nail zoon and sing And zip! your Mr. Bluejaj^ s wing would drop A farewell-feather from the old tree-top! And Maymie loved him, for the very small But perfect carriage for her favorite doll A lady s carriage not a baby-cab, But oil-cloth top, and two seats, lined with drab And trimmed with white lace-paper from a case Of shaving-soap his uncle bought some place At auction once. And Alex loved him yei The best, when Noey brought him, for a pet, A little flying-squirrel, with great eyes Big as a child s : And, childlike otherwise, It was at first a timid, tremulous, coy, Retiring little thing that dodged the boy And tried to keep in Noey s pocket ; till, In time, responsive to his patient will, It became wholly docile, and content With its new master, as he came and went, The squirrel clinging flatly to his breast, Or sometimes scampering its craziest Around his body spirally, and then Down to his very heels and up again. And Little Lizzie loved him, as a bee Loves a great ripe red apple utterly. For Noey s ruddy morning-face she drew The window-blind, and tapped the window, too; 529 THE HOOSIER BOOK Afar she hailed his coming, as she heard His tuneless whistling sweet as any bird It seemed to her, the one lame bar or so Of old "Wait for the Wagon" hoarse and low The sound was, so that, all about the place, Folks joked and said that Noey "whistled bass" The light remark originally made By Cousin Rufus, who knew notes, and played The flute with nimble skill, and taste as well, And, critical as he was musical, Regarded Noey s constant whistling thus "Phenominally unmelodious." Likewise when Uncle Mart, who shared the love Of jest with Cousin Rufus hand-in-glove, Said "Noey couldn t whistle Bonny Doon Even ! and, he d bet, couldn t carry a tune If it had handles to it!" But forgive The deviations here so fugitive, And turn again to Little Lizzie, whose High estimate of Noey we shall choose Above all others. And to her he was Particularly lovable because He laid the woodland s harvest at her feet. He brought her wild strawberries, honey-sweet And dewy-cool, in mats of greenest moss And leaves, all woven over and across With tender, biting "tongue-grass," and "sheep-sour," And twin-leaved beech-mast, pranked with bud and flower Of every gipsy-blossom of the wild, Dark, tangled forest, dear to any child. 530 THE HOOSIER BOOK All these in season. Nor could barren, drear, White and stark-featured Winter interfere With Noey s rare resources : Still the same He blithely whistled through the snow and came Beneath the window with a Fairy sled ; And Little Lizzie, bundled heels-and-head, He took on such excursions of delight As even "Old Santy" with his reindeer might Have envied her ! And, later, when the snow Was softening toward Spring-time and the glow Of steady sunshine smote upon it, then Came the magician Noey yet again While all the children were away a day Or two at Grandma s ! and behold when they Got home once more ; there, towering taller than The doorway stood a mighty, old Snow-Man ! A thing of peerless art a masterpiece Doubtless unmatched by even classic Greece In heyday of Praxiteles. Alone It loomed in lordly grandeur all its own. And steadfast, too, for weeks and weeks it stood, The admiration of the neighborhood As well as of the children Noey sought Only to honor in the work he wrought. The traveler paid it tribute, as he passed Along the highway paused and, turning, cast A lingering, last look as though to take A vivid print of it, for memory s sake, To lighten all the empty, aching miles Beyond with brighter fancies, hopes and smiles. 531 THE HOOSIER BOOK Hie cynic put aside his biting wit And tacitly declared in praise of it ; And even the apprentice-poet of the town Rose to impassioned heights, and then sat down And penned a panegyric scroll of rhyme That made the Snow-Man famous for all time. And though, as now, the ever warmer sun Of summer had so melted and undone The perishable figure that alas ! Not even in dwindled white against the grass Was left its latest and minutest ghost, The children yet materially, almost Beheld it circled round it hand-in-hand (Or rather round the place it used to stand) With "Ring-a-round-a-rosy i Bottle full O posey !" and, with shriek and laugh, would pull From seeming contact with it just as when It was the real-est of old Snow-Men. Even in such a scene of senseless play The children were surprised one summer day By a strange man who called across the fence, Inquiring for their father s residence ; And, being answered that this was the place, Opened the gate, and, with a radiant face, Came in and sat down with them in the shade. And waited till the absent father made His noon appearance, with a warmth and zest That told he had no ordinary guest In this man whose low-spoken name he knew At once, demurring as the stranger drew 532 THE 1IOOS1KR BOOK A stuffy note-book out, and turned and set A big fat finger on a page, and let The writing thereon testify instead Of further speech. And as the father read All silently, the curious children took Exacting inventory both of book And man : He wore a long-napped white fur hat Pulled firmly on his head, and under that Rather long silvery hair, or iron-gray For he was not an old man, anyway, Not beyond sixty. And he wore a pair Of square-framed spectacles or rather there Were two more than a pair, the extra two Flared at the corners, at the e) r es side-view, 2 fi/\. In as redundant vision as the eyes Of grasshoppers or bees or dragon-flies. Later the children heard the father say He was "A Noted Traveler," and would stay Some days with them In which time host and guest Discussed, alone, in deepest interest, Some vague, mysterious matter that defied The wistful children, loitering outside The spare-room door. There Bud acquired a quite New list of big words such as "Disunite," And "Shibboleth," and "Aristocracy," And "Juggernaut," and "Squatter Sovereignty," And "Anti-slavery," "Emancipate," "Irrepressible Conflict," and "The Great Battle of Armageddon" obviously A pamphlet brought from Washington, D. C, And spread among such friends as might occur Of like views with "The Noted Traveler." 533 THE HOOSIER BOOK 253 Maymie s Story of Red Riding- Hood W Y, one time wuz a little-weenty dirl, An* she wuz named Red Riding-Hood, cause her Her Ma she maked a little red cloak fer her At turnt up over her head An it uz all 1st one piece o red cardinal at s like The drate-long stockin s the store-keepers has. Oh ! it uz purtiest cloak in all the world An all this town er anywheres they is ! An so, one day, her Ma she put it on Red Riding-Hood, she did one day, she did An it uz Sund y cause the little cloak It uz too nice to wear ist ever day An* all the time ! An* so her Ma, she put It on Red Riding-Hood an telled her not To dit no dirt on it ner dit it mussed Ner nothin ! An an nen her Ma she dot Her little basket out, at Old Kriss bringed Her wunst one time, he did. And nen she fill It full o whole lots an bundance o dood things t ca< (Allus my Dran ma she says " bundance," too.) An so her Ma fill little Red Riding-Hood s Nice basket all ist full o dood things t eat, An tell her take em to her old Dran ma An not to spill em, neever cause ef she Ud stump her toe an spill em, her Dran ma She ll haf to punish her! 534 THE HOOSIER BOOK An nen An so Little Red Riding-Hood she p omised she Ud be all careful nen an cross her heart At she won t run an spill em all fer six Five ten two-hundred-bushel-dollars-gold ! An nen she kiss her Ma doo -by an went A-skippin off away fur off frough the Big woods, where her Dran ma she live at No ! She didn t do a-skippin , like I said: She 1st went walkin careful-like an slow 1st like a little lady walkin long As all polite an nice an slow an straight An* turn her toes ist like she s marchin in The Sund y-School k-session ! An an so She uz a-doin along an doin* along On frough the drate-big woods cause her Dran ma She live way, way fur off frough the big woods From her Ma s house. So when Red Riding-Hood Dit to do there, she allus have most fun When she do frough the drate-big woods, you know Cause she ain t f card a bit o anything ! An so she sees the little hoppty-birds At s in the trees, an flyin all around, An singin dlad as ef their parunts said They ll take em to the magic-lantern show! An* she ud pull the purty flowers an things A-growin round the stumps An she ud ketch The purty butterflies, an drasshoppers, An* stick pins frough em No ! I ist said that ! Cause she s too dood an kind an bedient 535 THE HOOSIER BOOK To hurt things thataway. She d ketch em, though, An ist play wiv em ist a little while, An nen she d let em fly away, she would, An ist skip on ad in to her Dran mas. An so, while she uz doin long an long, First thing you know they uz a drate-big old Mean wicked Wolf jumped out at wanted t* eat Her up, but dassent to cause wite clos t there They wuz a Man a-choppin wood, an* you Could hear him. So the old Wolf he uz fcard Only to ist be kind to her. So he Ist tended-like he wuz dood friends to her An says "Dood morning, little Red Riding-Hood 1" All ist as kind ! An* nen Riding-Hood She say "Dood morning," too, all kind an nice Ist like her Ma she learn No ! mustn t say "Learn," cause "Learn" it s unproper. So she say It like her Ma she {< teachcd" her. An so she Ist says "Dood morning" to the Wolf cause she Don t know ut-tall at he : -*, wicked Wolf An want to eat her up! An nen old Wolf smile An . say, so kind: "Where air you doin at?" Nen little Red Riding-Hood she say: "I m doin To my Dran ma s, cause my Ma say I might." Nen, when she tell him that, the old Wolf he Ist turn an light out f rough the big thick woods, Where she can t see him any more. An so She think he s went to his house but he hain t, He s went to her Dran ma s, to be there first 536 THE HOOSIER BOOK An ketch her, ef she don t watch mighty sharp What she s about! An nen when the old Wolf Dit to her Dran ma s house, he s purty smart, An so he tend-like he s Red Riding-Hood, An knock at th door. An Riding-Hood s Dran ma She s sick in bed an can t come to the door An open it. So th old Wolf knock two times. An nen Red Riding-Hood s Dran ma she says, "Who s there ?" she says. An old Wolf tends-like he Little Red Riding-Hood, you know, an make His voice soun ist like hers, an says: "It s me, Dran ma an I m Red Riding-Hood an I m Ist come to see you." Nen her old Dran ma She think it is little Red Riding-Hood, An so she say: "Well, come in nen an make You se f at home," she says, " cause I m down sick In bed, and got the ralgia, so s I can t Dit up an let ye in." An so th old Wolf Ist march in nen an shet the door ad in, An* drowl, he did, an splunge up on the bed An et up old Miz Riding-Hood fore she Could put her specs on an see who it wuz. An* so she never knowed who et her up! An nen the wicked Wolf he ist put on Her nightcap, an all covered up in bed Like he wuz her, you know. Nen, purty soon Here come along little Red Riding-Hood, An* she knock* at the door. An old Wolf tend- 137 THE HOOSIER BOOK Like he s her Dran ma ; an he say, "Who s there?" 1st like her Dran ma say, you know. An so Little Red Riding-Hood she say : "It s me, Dran ma an I m Red Riding-Hood and I m 1st come to see you." An nen old Wolf nen He cough an say: "Well, come in nen an make You se f at home," he says, " cause I m down sick In bed, an got the ralgia, so s I can t Dit up an let ye in." An so she _ think It s her Dran ma a-talkin . So she ist Open the door an come in, an set down Her basket, an taked off her things, an bringed A chair an clumbed up on the bed, wite by The old big Wolf she thinks is her Dran ma Only she thinks the old Wolf s dot whole lots More bigger ears, an lots more whiskers, too, Than her Dran ma ; an so Red Riding-Hood She s kind o skeered a little. So she says "Oh, Dran ma, what big eyes you dot!" An nen The old W T olf says : "They re ist big thataway Cause I m so dlad to see you!" Nen she says, "Oh, Dran ma, what a drate-big nose you dot !" Nen th old Wolf says : "It s ist big thataway Ist cause I smell the dood things at you bringed Me in the basket !" An nen Riding-Hood She says, "Oh-me-oh-wry / Dran ma! what big White long sharp teeth you dot!" 538 THE HOOSIER BOOK Nen old Wolf says : "Yes an they re thataway," an drowled "They re thataway," he says, "to cat you wiv !" An nen he ist jump at her. But she scream An scream , she did. So s at the Man At wuz a-choppin wood, you know, he hear, An come a-runnin in there wiv his ax ; An , fore the old Wolf know what he s about, He split his old brains out an killed him s quick It make his head swim ! An Red Riding-Hood She wuzn t hurt at all ! An the big Man He tooked her all safe home, he did, an tell Her Ma she s all right an ain t hurt at all An old Wolf s dead an killed an everything ! So her Ma wuz so tickled an so proud, She divved him all the dood things t eat they wuz At s in the basket, an she tell him at She s much oblige , an say to "call ad in." An story s honest truth an all so, too ! 254 Bud s Fairy Tale SOME peoples thinks they ain t no Fairies now No more yet! But they is, I bet! Cause ef They wuzn t Fairies, nen I like to know Who d w ite bout Fairies in the books, an tell What Fairies does, an how their picture looks, An all an ever thing! W y, ef they don t Be Fairies any more, nen little boys 533 THE HOOSIER BOOK Ud ist sleep when they go to sleep an won t Have ist no dweams at all, cause Fairies good Fairies they re a-purpose to make dweams ! But they is Fairies an I know they is! Cause one time wunst, when it s all Summer-time, An don t haf to be no fires in the stove Er fireplace to keep warm wiv ner don t haf To wear old scwatchy flannen shirts at all, An ain t no fweeze ner cold ner snow ! An an Old skweeky twees got all the gween leaves on An ist keeps noddin , noddin all the time, Like they uz lazy an a-twyin to go To sleep an couldn t, cause the wind won t quit A-blowin in em, an the birds won t stop A-singin , so s they kin. But twees don t sleep, I guess ! But little boys sleeps an dweams, too. An that s a sign they s Fairies. So, one time, When I be n playin "Store" wunst over in The shed of their old stable, an Ed Howard He maked me quit a-bein pardners, cause I dwinked the tend-like sody-water up An et the shore-nuff cwackers, w y, nen I Clumbed over in our garden where the gwapes Wtiz purt nigh ripe : An I wuz ist a-layin* There on th old cwooked seat at Pa maked in Our arber, an* so I uz layin there A-whittlin beets wiv my new dog-knife, an A-lookin wite up thue the twimbly leaves An wtizn t, sleep at all! An -sir ! first thing You know, a little Fairy hopped out there ! A leetle-teenty Fairy! hope -may - die! 540 THE HOOSIER BOOK An* he look down at me, he did an he Ain t bigger n a yellerbird! an he Say "Howdy-do!" he did an I could hear Him ist as plain! Nen 7 say "Howdy-do !" An he say "I m all hunky, Nibsey ; how Is your folks comin on?" An nen I say "My name ain t Nibsey, neever my name s Bud.- An* what s your name?" I says to him. An he Ist laugh an say, " Bud s awful funny name !" An he ist laid back on a big bunch o gwapes An laugh an laugh , he did like somebody Uz tick-el-un his feet! z f- An* nen I say "What s your name," nen I say, "afore you bu st Yo se f a-laughin bout my name?" I says. An nen he dwy up laughin kind o mad An say, "W y, my name s Squidjicum" he says. An nen / laugh an say "Gee ! what a name !" An when I make fun of his name, like that, He ist git awful mad an spunky, an Fore you know, he ist gwabbed holt of a vine A big long vine at s danglin up there, an He ist helt on wite tight to that, an down He swung quick past my face, he did, an ist Kicked at me hard s he could! But I m too quick Fer Mr. Squidjicum! I ist weached out An ketched him, in my hand an helt him, too, An squeezed him, ist like little wobins when 5 IT THE HOOSIER BOOK They can t fly yet an git flopped out their nest. An nen I turn him all wound over, an Look at him clos t, you know wite clos t, cause ef He is a Fairy, w y, I want to see The wings he s got. But he s dwessed up so fine At I can t see no wings. An all the time He s twyin to kick me yet: An so I take F esh holts an squeeze ag in an harder, too ; An I says. "Hold up, Mr. Squid jicum! You re kickin the wrong man !" I says ; an nen I ist squeeze him, pttrt nigh my best, I did An I heerd somepin bu st ! An nen he cwied An* says, "You better look out what you re doin ! You bu st my spiderweb-suspenners, an You got my woseleaf-coat all cwinkled up So s I can t go to old Miss Hoodjicum s Tea-party, s afternoon !" An* nen I says "Who s old Miss Hoodjicum ?" I says An he Says, "Ef you lemme loose I ll tell you." So I helt the little skeezics way fur out In one hand so s he can t jump down t th ground Wivout a-gittin all stove up: an nen I says, "You re loose now. Go ahead an* tell Bout the tea-party where you re goin at So awful fast!" I says. An* nen he say, "No use to tell you bout it, cause you won t Believe it, less you go there your own se f An see it wiv your own two eyes!" he says. 542 THE HOOSIER BOOK An* he says : "Ef you lemme shore-nuff loose, An p omise at you ll keep wite still, an won t Tetch nothin at you see an never tell Nobody in the world an lemme loose W y, nen I ll take you there!" But I says, "Yes An ef I let you loose, you ll run!" I says. An he says, "No, I won t ! I hope-may-die !" Ncn I says, "Cwoss your heart you won t!" An he 1st cwoss his heart; an nen I weach an set The little feller up on a long vine An he uz so tickled to git loose ag in, He gwab the vine wiv boff his little hands An ist take an* turn in, he did, an skin Bout f orty- leben cats ! Nen when he git Thue whirlin wound the vine, an set on top Of it ag in, w y ner * his "woseleaf-coat" He bwag so much about, it s ist all tored Up, an ist hangin strips an rags so he Look like his Pa s a dwunkard. An so nen When he see what he s done a-actin up So smart, he s awful mad, I guess ; an ist Pout out his lips an tvvis his little face Ist ugly as he kin, an set an tear His whole coat off an sleeves an all. An nen He wad it all togevver an ist throw It at me ist as hard as he kin dwive ! An when I weach to ketch him, an uz goin To give him nuvver squeezin , he ist flewcd Clean up on top the arber! Cause, you know, 543 THE HOOSIER BOOK They wuz wings on him when he tored his coat Clean off they wuz wings under there. But they Wuz purty wobbly-like an wouldn t work Hardly at all Cause purty soon, when I Th owed clods at him, an sticks, an got him shooed Down off o there, he come a-floppin down An lit k-bang! on our old chicken-coop, An ist laid there a-whimper n like a child ! An I tiptoed up wite clos t, an I says, "What s The matter wiv ye, Squidjicum?" An he Says : "Dog-gone ! when my wings gits stwaight ag in, Where you all czvumpled em," he says, "I bet I ll ist fly clean away an won t take you To old Miss Hoodjicum s at all!" he says. An nen I ist weach out wite quick, I did, An gwab the sassy little snipe ag in Nen tooked my top-string an tie down his wings So s he can t fly, less n I want him to ! An nen I says: "Now, Mr. Squidjicum, You better ist light out," I says, "to old Miss Hoodjicum s, an show me how to git There, too," I says; "er ef you don t," I says, "I ll climb up wiv you on our buggy-shed An push you off !" I says. An* nen he say All wight, he ll show me there; an tell me nen To set him down wite easy on his feet, An loosen up the stwing a little where It cut him under th arms. An nen he says, "Come on!" he says; an went a-limpin long The garden-path an limpin long an long 544 THE HOOSIER BOOK Tel purty soon he come on long to where s A grea -big cabbage-leaf. An he stoop down An say, "Come on inunder here wiv me !" So / stoop down an crawl inunder there, Like he say. An inunder there s a grea - Big clod, they is a awful grea -big clod ! An* nen he says, "Woll this-here clod away!" An* so I woll* the clod away. An nen It s all wet, where the dew z inunder where The old clod wuz, an* nen the Fairy he Git on the wet-place : Nen he say to me, "Git on the wet-place, too !" An nen he say, "Now hold yer breff an shet yer eyes!" he says, "Tel I say Squinchy-winchy!" Nen he say Somepin in Dutch, I guess. An nen I felt Like we uz sinkin down an sinkin down ! Tel purty soon the little Fairy weach An pinch my nose an yell at me an say, "Squinchy-winchy! Look -wherever you please!" Nen when I looked Oh! they uz purtyest place Down there you ever saw in all the World ! They uz ist flowers an woses yes, an* twees Wiv blossoms on an big wipe apples boff ! An butterflies, they wuz an hummin -birds An yellerbirds an bluebirds yes, an wed! An* ever wheres an all awound uz vines Wiv ripe p serve-pears on em! Yes, an all An ever thing at s ever gwowin in A garden er canned up all wipe at wunst! It wuz ist like a garden only it Uz little bit o garden bout big wound 545 THE HOOSIER BOOK As ist our twun el-bed is. An all wound An wound the little garden s a gold fence An little gold gate, too an ash-hopper At s all gold, too an ist full o gold ashes! An wite in th middle o* the garden wuz A little gold house, at s ist bout as big As ist a bird-cage is : An in the house They uz whole-lots more Fairies there cause I Picked up the little house, an peeked in at The winders, an I see em all in there Ist bug gin wound! An Mr. Squidjicum He twy to make me quit, but I gwab him, An* poke him down the chimbly, too, I did ! An y ort to see him hop out mongst em there! Ist like he uz the boss an ist got back ! "Hain t ye got on t hem-air dew-dump tin s yet?" He says. An they says no. An nen he says "Better git at em nen!" he says, "wite quick Cause old Miss Hoodjicum s a-eomin !" Nen They all set wound a little gold tub an All menced a-peelin dewdwops, ist like they Uz peaches. An , it looked so funny, I Ist laugh out loud, an dwopped the little house, An* t bu sted like a soap-bubble ! An t skeered Me so, I I I I, it skeered me so, I ist waked up. No ! I ain t be n asleep An dweam it all, like you think, but it s shore Fer-certain fact an* cwoss my heart it is ! 546 THE HOOSIER BOOK The Bear Story THAT ALEX "iST MAKED UP HIS-OWN-SEV 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 "Wo oh I" 1st thataway "Woo-ooh!" An he wuz skcercd, He wuz. An so he runned an clumbed a tree A grea -big tree, he did, a sicka-won? tree. An nen he heerd it ag in : an he looked round, An* t us a Bear! a grea -big, shorc-nuff Bear! No : t uz two Bears, it wuz two grea -big Bears One of em wuz 1st 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 dumb 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 failed clean on down out 547 THE HOOSIER BOOK The tree away clean to the ground, he did Spliny-splung! he failed 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 1st jabbed his gun wite in the old Bear s mouf 548 THE HOOSIER BOOK An shot an killed him dead ! No ; I f ergot, He didn t shoot the grea -big Bear at all Cause they us no load in the gun, you know Cause when he shot the Little Bear, w y, nen No load uz any more 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 the 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 be n 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 Another 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 the old Bear can t find the Little Boy At all ! But purty soon the 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 find the gun, he knows 549 THE HOOSIER BOOK The Little Boy ist hid round somcrs 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 climhs 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 bu st 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 failed, nen the gun failed, 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 550 THE IIOOSIER BOOK "Wooh!woo-ooh!" all the time! An Little Boy He haf to stay up in the tree all night An thout no supper neever ! Only they Wuz apples on the tree ! An Little Boy Et apples ist all night an cried an cried ! Nen when t uz 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 dumb 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. 551 THE HOOSIER BOOK \i/. | MTliJ 0*j IIjJ - J ViV>}V -.- -C. /?-.* iSi- V 4V Uncle Mart s Poem THE OLD SNOW MAN HO ! the old Snow-Man That Noey Bixler made ! He looked as fierce and sassy As a soldier on parade ! Cause Noey, when he made him, While we all wuz gone, you see, He made him, jist a-purpose, Jist as fierce as he could be ! But when we all got ust to him, Nobody wuz afraid Of the old Snow-Man That Noey Bixler made ! Cause Noey told us bout him And what he made him f er : He d come to feed, that morning, He found we wuzn t here ; And so the notion struck him, When we all come taggin home T ud s prise us ef a old Snow-Man Ud meet us when we come ! So, when he d fed the stock, and milked, And be n back home, and chopped His wood, and et his breakfast, he Jist grabbed his mitts and hopped Right in on that-air old Snow-Man That he laid out he d make 552 THE HOOSIER BOOK Er bu st a trace a-tryin jist Fer old-acquaintance-sake ! But work like that wuz lots more fun, He said, than when he played ! Ho! the old Snow-Man That Noey Bixler made ! He started with a big snow-ball, And rolled it all around ; And as he rolled, more snow ud stick And pull up off the ground. He rolled and rolled all round the yard Cause we could see the track, All wher the snow come off, you know, And left it wet and black. He got the Snow-Man s legs-part rolled In front the kitchen-door, And then he hat to turn in then And roll and roll some more ! He rolled the yard all round ag in, And round the house, at that Clean round the house and back to wher The blame legs-half wuz at ! He said he missed his dinner, too Jist clean fergot and stayed There workin . Oh ! the old Snow-Man That Noey Bixler made ! And Noey said he hat to hump To git the top-half on The legs-half! When he did, he said, His wind wuz purt nigh gone. 553 THE HOOSIER BOOK He said, i jucks! he jist drapped down There on the old porch-floor And panted like a dog! And then He up ! and rolled some more ! The last batch that wuz fer his head, And time he d got it right And dumb and fixed it on, he said He hat to quit fer night! And then, he said, he d kep right on Ef they d be n any moon To work by ! So he crawled in bed And could a slep tel noon, He wuz so plum wore out ! he said,- But it wuz washin -day, And hat to cut a cord o wood Fore he could git away! But, last, he got to work ag in, With spade, and gouge, and hoe, And trowel, too (All tools ud do What Nocy said, you know!) He cut his eyebrows out like cliffs And his cheek-bones and chin Stuck furdcr out and his old nose Stuck out as f ur-ag in ! He made his eyes o walnuts, And his whiskers out o this- Here buggy-cushion stuffin moss, The teacher says it is. And then he made a old wood -gun, Set keerless-like, you know, 554 THE HOOSIER BOOK Acrost one shoulder kind o like Big Foot, er Adam Poe Er, mayby, Simon Girty, The dinged old Renegade! Wooh! the old Snow-Man That Noey Bixler made ! And there he stood, all fierce and grim, A stern, heroic form : What was the winter blast to him, And what the driving storm? What wonder that the children pressed Their faces at the pane And scratched away the frost, in pride To look on him again ? What wonder that, with yearning bold, Their all of love and care Went warmest through the keenest cold To that Snow-Man out there ! But the old Snow-Man What a dubious delight He grew at last when Spring came on And days waxed warm and bright. Alone he stood all kith and kin Of snow and ice were gone; Alone, with constant tear-drops in His eyes and glittering on His thin, pathetic beard of black Grief in a hopeless cause ! Hope hope is for the man that dies What for the man that thaws! 555 THE HOOSIKR BOOK O Hero of a hero s make! Let marble melt and fade, But never you you old Snow-Man That Noey Bixler made! icrft n^m aii} io\ 556 MISCELLANY The Gmoine Ar-ticklc r F\A.LKIN o poetry There re few men yit JL At s got the stuff b iled down so s it ll pour Out sorghum-like, and keeps a year and more Jes sweeter ever time you tackle it! W y> all the jinglin truck at hes been writ Fer twenty year and better is so pore You cain t find no sap in it any more N you d find juice in puff-balls! And I d quit! What people wants is facts, I apperhend; And naked Natur is the thing to give Your writin bottom, eh ? And I contend At honest work is allus bound to live. Now them s my views ; cause you kin recommend Sich poetry as that from end to end. 258 Lines to An Onsettled Young Man WHAT is Life at last," says you, "At woman folks and man folks too, Cain t, oncomplainin , worry through? "An what is Love, at no one yit At s monkeyed with it kin forgit, Er gits fat on remember n hit? 557 THE HOOSIER BOOK "An what is Death?" W y, looky hyur- Ef Life an Love don t suit you, sir, Hit s jes the thing yer lookin f er ! What Smith Knew About Farming THERE wasn t two purtier farms in the state Than the couple of which I m about to relate; Jinin each other belongin to Brown, And jest at the edge of a flourishin town. Brown was a man, as I understand, That allus had handled a good eal o land, And was sharp as a tack in drivin a trade For that s the way most of his money was made. And all the grounds and the orchards about His two pet farms was all tricked out With poppies and posies And sweet-smellin rosies ; And hundreds o kinds Of all sorts o vines, To tickle the most horticultural minds ; And little dwarf trees not as thick as your wrist With ripe apples on em as big as your fist : And peaches, Siberian crabs and pears, And quinces Well ! any fruit any tree bears ; And the purtiest stream jest a-swimmin with fish, And jest a most everything heart could wish! The purtiest orch rds I wish you could see How purty they was, fer I know it ud be 558 THE HOOSIER BOOK A regular treat ! but I ll go ahead with My story ! A man by the name o Smith (A bad name to rhyme, But I reckon that I m Not goin back on a Smith! nary time!) At hadn t a soul of kin nor kith, And more money than he knowed what to do with, So he comes a-ridin along one day, And he says to Brown, in his offhand way Who was trainin some newfangled vines round a bay- Winder "Howdjr-do look-a-here say: What ll you take fer this property here? I m talkin o leavin the city this year, And I want to be Where the air is free, And I ll buy this place, if it ain t too dear!" Well they grumbled and jawed aroun "I don t like to part with the place," says Brown ; "Well," says Smith, a-jerkin his head, "That house yonder bricks painted red Jest like this n a purtier view Who is it owns it?" "That s mine too," Says Brown, as he winked at a hole in his shoe, "But I ll tell you right here jest what I kin do : If you ll pay the figgers I ll sell it to you." Smith went over and looked at the place Badgered with Brown, and argied the case Thought that Brown s figgers was rather too tall, But, findin that Brown wasn t goin to fall, In final agreed, So they drawed up the deed Fer the farm and the fixtures the live stock an all 559 THE HOOSIER BOOK And so Smith moved from the city as soon As he possibly could But "the man in the moon" Knowed more n Smith o farmin pursuits, And jest to convince you, and have no disputes, How little he knowed, I ll tell you his "mode," As he called it, o raisin "the best that growed," In the way o potatoes Cucumbers tomatoes, And squashes as lengthy as young alligators. Twas allus a curious thing to me How big a fool a feller kin be When he gits on a farm after leavin a town ! Expectin to raise himself up to renown, And reap fer himself agricultural fame, By growin of squashes without any shame As useless and long as a technical name. To make the soil pure, And certainly sure, He plastered the ground with patent manure. He had cultivators, and double-hoss plows, And patent machines fer milkin his cows ; And patent ha}^-forks patent measures and weights And new patent back-action hinges fer gates, And barn locks and latches, and such little dribs And patents to keep the rats out o the cribs Reapers and mowers, And patent grain sowers; And drillers And tillers And cucumber hillers, t jitf *f a&Qtes?$i{ M : fa-4-feo -ft/lxft ; aail -inne nut;} y;ii 560 THE HOOSIER BOOK And harriers ; and had patent rollers and scrapers, And took about ten agricultural papers. So you can imagine how matters turned out : But Brown didn t have not a shadder o doubt That Smith didn t know what he was about When he said that "the old way to farm was played out." But Smith worked ahead, And when any one said That the old way o workin was better instead O his "modern idees," he allus turned red, And wanted to know What made people so Infernally anxious to hear theirselves crow? And guessed that he d manage to hoe his own row. Brown he come onc t and leant over the fence, And told Smith that he couldn t see any sense In goin to such a tremendous expense Per the sake o such no-account expeeriments : "That ll never make corn ! As shore s you re born It ll come out the leetlest end of the horn !" Says Brown, as he pulled off a big roastin -ear From a stalk of his own That had tribble outgrown Smith s poor yaller shoots, and says he, "Looky here ! This corn was raised in the old-fashioned way, And I rather imagine that this corn ll pay Expenses fer raisin it! What do you say?" Brown got him then to look over his crop. His luck that season had been tip-top ! And you may surmise Smith opened his eyes 56l THE HOOSIER BOOK And let out a look o the wildest surprise When Brown showed him punkins as big as the lies He was stuffin him with about offers he s had Per his farm : "I don t want to sell very bad," He says, but says he, "Mr. Smith, you kin see Per yourself how matters is standin with me, / understand farm-in and I d better stay, You know, on my farm ; I m a-makin it pay I oughtn t to grumble ! I reckon I ll clear Away over four thousand dollars this year." And that was the reason, he made it appear, Why he didn t care about sellin* his farm, And hinted at his havin* done himself harm In sellin the other, and wanted to know If Smith wouldn t sell back ag in to him. So Smith took the bait, and says he, "Mr. Brown, I wouldn t sell out, but we might swap aroun How ll you trade your place fer mine?" (Purty sharp way o comin the shine Over Smith! Wasn t it?) Well, sir, this Brown Played out his hand and brought Smithy down Traded with him an , workin it cute, Raked in two thousand dollars to boot As slick as a whistle, an that wasn t all, He managed to trade back ag in the next fall, And the next and the next as long as Smith stayed He reaped with his harvests an annual trade. Why, I reckon that Brown must a easily made On an average nearly two thousand a year Together he made over seven thousand clear. 562 THE HOOSIER BOOK i ill Mr. Smith found he was losin his health In as big a proportion, almost, as his wealth ; So at last he concluded to move back to town, And sold back his farm to this same Mr. Brown At very low figgers, by gittin it down. Further n this I have nothin* to say Than merely advisin the Smiths fer to stay In their grocery stores in flourishin* towns And leave agriculture alone and the Browns. 260 Tivo Sonnets to tJie June-Bug YOU make me jes a little nervouser Than any dog-gone bug I ever see ! And you know night s the time to pester me When any tetch at all 11 rub the fur Of all my patience back ards ! You re the myrrh And ruburb of my life ! A bumblebee Cain t hold a candle to you ; and a he Bald hornet, with a laminated spur In his hip-pocket, daresent even cheep When you re around ! And, dern ye ! you have made Me lose whole ricks and stacks and piles of sleep, And many of a livelong night I ve laid And never shut an eye, hearin you keep Up that eternal buzzin serenade ! 563 THE HOOSIER BOOK ii And I ve got up and lit the lamp, and clum On cheers and trunks and wash-stands and bureaus, And all such dangerous articles as those, And biffed at you with brooms, and never come In two feet of you, maybe skeered you some, But what does that amount to when it throws A feller out o balance, and his nose Gits barked ag inst the mantel, while you hum Fer joy around the room, and churn your head Ag inst the ceilin , and draw back and butt The plasterin loose, and drop behind the bed? Where never human-bein ever putt Harm s hand on you, er ever truthful said He d choke yer dern infernal wizzen shut! 261 My First Womern I BURIED my first womern In the spring ; and in the fall I was married to my second, And hain t settled yit at all ! Fer I m allus thinkin thinkin Of the first one s peaceful ways, A-bilin soap and singin Of the Lord s amazin grace. 564 THE HOOSIER BOOK And I m thinkin of her, constants Dyin carpet chain and stuff, And a-makin up rag carpets, When the floor was good enough And I mind her he p a-feedin , And I riccollect her now A-drappin corn, and keepin Clos t behind me and the plow ! And I m allus thinkin of her Reddin up around the house ; Er cookin f er the farm-hands ; Er a-drivin up the cows. And there she lays out yonder By the lower medder fence, Where the cows was barely grazir And they re usin ever sence. And when I look acrost there Say it s when the clover s ripe, And I m settin , in the evenin , On the porch here, with my pipe And the other n hollers "Henry !"- W y they ain t no sadder thing Than to think of my first women:. And her funeral last spring Was a year ago 565 THE HOOSIER BOOK 262 Our Old Friend Nevcrfail OIT S good to ketch a relative at s richer and don t run When you holler out to hold up, and ll joke and have his fun ; It s good to hear a man called bad and then find out he s not, Er strike some chap they call lukewarm at s really red-hot ; It s good to know the Devil s painted jes a leetle black, And it s good to have most anybody pat you on the back ; But jes the best thing in the world s our old friend Neverfail, When he wags yer hand as honest as an old dog wags his tail! I like to strike the man I owe the same time I can pay, And take back things I ve borried, and su prise folks that- away ; I like to find out that the man I voted fer last fall, That didn i; git elected, was a scoundrel after all ; I like the man that likes the pore and he ps em when lie can; I like to meet a ragged tramp at s still a gentleman ; But most I like with you, my boy our old friend Never fail, When he wags yer hand as honest as an old dog wags his tail! 566 THE HOOSIER BOOK 263 To "The J. IV. R. Literary Club" WELL, it s enough to turn his head to have a feller s name Swiped with a Literary Club ! But you re the ones to blame ! I call the World to witness that I never aggcd ye to it By ever writin Classic-like because I couldn t do it. I never run to "Hellicon," ner writ about "Per-nas-sus," Ner never tried to rack er ride around on old "P-gassus" ! When "Tuneful NineS" has cross d my lines, the ink ud blot and blur it, And pen ud jest putt back fer home, and take the short- way f er it ! And so, as I m a-sayin , when you name your LITERARY In honor o this name o mine, it s railly nessessary Whilse I m a-thankin you and all to warn you, ef you do it, I ll haf to jine the thing myse f fore I can live up to it! 3no "n\ irwd ot 264 Old Indiany FRAGMENT INTENDED FOR A DINNER OF THE INDIANA SOCIETY OF CHICAGO OLD Indiany, course we know Is first, and best, and most, also, Of all the States whole forty- four : She s first in ever thing, that s shore ! THE HOOSIER BOOK And best in ever way as yet Made known to man ; and you kin bet She s most, because she won t confess She ever was, or will be, less! And yet, f er all her proud array Of sons, how many gits away ! No doubt about her bein great But, fellers, she s a leaky State ! And them that boasts the most about Her, them s the ones that s dribbled out Law ! jes to think of all you boys Way over here in Illinoise A-celebratin , like ye air, Old Indiany, way back there In the dark ages, so to speak, A-prayin for ye once a week And wonderin what s a-keepin you From comin , like you ort to do. You re all a-lookin well, and like You wasn t "sidin up the pike," As the tramp-shoemaker said When "he sacked the boss and shed The blame town, to hunt fer one Where they didn t work fer fun !" Lookin extry well, I d say, Your old home so fur away. Maybe, though, like the old jour., Fun ain t all yer workin fer. So you ve found a job that pays Better than in them old days You was on The Weekly Press, Heppin run things, more er less ; THE HOOSIER BOOK Er a-learnin telegraph- Operatin , with a half- Notion of the tinner s trade, Er the dusty man s that laid Out designs on marble and Hacked out little lambs by hand, And chewed fine-cut as he wrought, "Shapin from his bitter thought" Some squshed mutterings to say, "Yes, hard work, and porer pay !" Er you d kind o thought the far- Gazin cuss that owned a car And took pictures in it, had Jes* the snap you wanted bad ! And you even wondered why He kep foolin with his sky- Light the same on shiny days As when rainin . (T leaked always.) Wondered what strange things was hid In there when he shet the door And smelt like a burnt drug store Next some orchard-trees, i swan ! With whole roasted apples on! That s why Ade is, here of late, Buyin in the dear old State, So s to cut it up in plots Of both town and country lots. boIttEw i-rtaoot Mo L>. f) no .v/oo fbliM \i I iV// rt.? j0rn* miri bsri ?(}fmjrn srfi 9>!LJ 569 THE HOOSIER BOOK 5 Abe Martin A~3E MARTIN ! dad-burn his old picture ! P tends he s a Brown County fixture A kind of a comical mixture Of hoss-sense and no sense at all ! His mouth, like his pipe, s allus goin , And his thoughts, like his whiskers, is flowing And what he don t know ain t wuth knowin From Genesis clean to baseball ! The artist, Kin Hubbard, s so keerless He draws Abe most eyeless and earless, But he s never yet pictured him cheerless Er with fun at he tries to conceal, Whuther on to the fence er clean over A-rootin up ragweed er clover, Skeered stiff at some "Rambler" er "Rover" Er newfangled zutomobeel! It s a purty steep climate old Brown s in ; And the rains there his ducks nearly drowns in The old man hisse f wades his rounds in As ca m and serene, mighty nigh, As the old handsaw-hawg, er the mottled Milch cow, er the old rooster wattled Like the mumps had him most so well throttled That it was a pleasure to die. 570 THE HOOSIER BOOK But best of em all s the fool-breaks at Abe don t see at all, and yit makes at Both me and you lays back and shakes at His comic, miraculous cracks Which makes him clean back of the power Of genius itse f in its flower This Notable Man of the Hour, Abe Martin, The Joker on Facts. 266 My Conscience OMETIMES my Conscience says, says he, ^-^ "Don t you know me?" And I, says I, skeered through and through, "Of course I do. You air a nice chap euer way, I m here to say ! You make me cry you make me pray, And all them good things thataway That is, at night. Where do you stay Durin the day?" And then my Conscience says, onc t more, "You know me shore?" "Oh, yes," says I, a-trimblin faint, "You re jes a saint! Your ways is all so holy-right, 1 love you better ever night You come around, tel plum daylight, When you air out o sight!" 571 THE HOOSIER BOOK And then my Conscience sort o grits His teeth, and spits On his two hands and grabs, of course, Some old remorse, And beats me with the big butt-end O that thing tel my clostest friend Ud hardly know me. "Now," says he, "Be keerful as you d orto be And allus think o me !" 267 "A Happy Dream" WRITTEN JUNE 26, 1916 AS fair as summer just begun, Come Cornelia Allison With a lovely poem made for me Lovely as a poem can be. "O how wondrous !" I exclaim. "Poem in theme and poem in name What a triumph you have won, O Cornelia Allison ! ;b fnirffr !->j -.bnuuifi srrrco u "flir^is o Juo TJ UOY nos 572 INDEXES INDEX OF TITLES INDEX OF FIRST LINES INDEX OF TITLES 23JT1T HO INDEX OF TITLES NUMBER ABE MARTIN ,?.: , . "HavrAM:.YXA < fcM 265 ABSENCE OF LITTLE WESLEY, THE . "saaY/ aoC . 197 ALMOST BEYOND ENDURANCE . . iiaaaxci. V> . 162 ARMAZINDY As MY UNCLE UST TO SAY a#KI CIHA wH . n7 AT AUNTY S HOUSE . ji^.aHT ^o WQ war | 103 AT "THE LITERARY" . 198 BACK FROM TOWN . . a T ^ f -^. ? ^ . 217 BEAR FAMILY, A - 242 BEAR STORY, THE . . . H - !/! . dlll i I 255 BEE-BAG, THE .... D . 213 BILLY AND His DRUM . . . 231 BILLY GOODIN . . -99 BILLY MILLER S CIRCUS SHOW . . 167 "BLUE-MONDAY" AT THE SHOE SHOP . wd#fl BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM, THE . . 107 BOYS CANDIDATE, THE . . . . . g , BOY S MOTHER, A 3 g TJf , BOYS OF THE OLD GLEE CLUB, THE .... 248 BUB SAYS . ^ . 3 -Aw>uw ? *- )T BUD S FAIRY TALE . . (x3ir.:t/f r l aWHiHV/ 254 BUMBLEBEE, THE . . .jg/i-aAfK &iaiO.sHT 90 BY ANY OTHER NAME . . . .. g;ia8 ?. 123 <;] . A .yjiMAH-aaiS SHT HO WH^ CANARY AT THE FARM, A . . . . THO*/! -: A. a-sIS CASSANDER .... KT ..awaau.i 1^4 CHILD-WORLD, THE . . . ^nT .,vr^//I CHRISTMAS AFTERTHOUGHT . mvaMosavio.I T 75 CHRISTMAS MEMORY, A ... .z/ra. VKTj . 235 CLIMATIC SORCERY >:;wji> 239 CLOVER, THE . ^nT ,.i>}-. 7/ :m? 577 INDEX OF TITLES NUMBER "COMPANY MANNERS" . . . HJTSI/ . 247 "CooN-DoG WESS" .. .HtfT .Y^jaa ^ aJvrU -v-> 5 . 18 CUORED o SKEERIN . -. *:>/ /.r-rjjivr!:! yvioY:j;J ir. 219 VQ7 DAWN, NOON AND DEWFALL ..... DECORATION DAY ON THE PLACE DEFECTIVE SANTA CLAUS, A Doc SIFERS DOODLE-BUGS S CHARM, THE . . y %?l /p V( DOS T o BLUES, A . . . . . Yjn DOWN AROUND THE RIVER . . . , ?f n< ^,. DOWN ON WRIGGLE CRICK .... HH -j; DOWN TO THE CAPITAL . . ^ ^Q. PI n . r DREAM-MARCH v . DUBIOUS "OLD KRISS," A . ..,.% ^v>5ir>?.V-f: ELMER BROWN . . ."^ " ^" .. " . - v J . 223 ERASMUS WILSON . . . " " . \ . 15 EXTREMES . . . . . . . / . 226 EZRA HOUSE . ^ .24 FALL-CRICK VIEW OF THE EARTHQUAKE, A . v . 172 FARMER WHIPPLE BACHELOR . . ^ V T Y .- 7! . 115 FEEL IN THE CHRIS MAS-AIR, A . \ ] " l - , i;n . 153 FESSLER S BEES . . . . .y- /.X^uinl) < 205 FEW OF THE BIRD-FAMILY, A 142 FIRE AT NIGHT . . -. >\ .j/H/. K-iiiT T.\ m \f\ FIRST BLUEBIRD, THE : . 28 FISHING PARTY, THE . . . mT .CJM<V m 195 FOLKS AT LONESOMEVILLE THDUOHTaHT^A _>:/ ^ J4Q FOOL-YOUNGENS . . .. A. ,YOM.lM ?./ ^ 230 FULL HARVEST, A . . vaaDHoS : < jjg FUNNIEST THING IN THE WORLD, THE . A \ L ^ -. 87 5/8 INDL:X OF TITLES GINOINE AR-TICKLE, THE . ; -J COIN TO THE FAIR . . -. GOLDIE GOODWIN -. . . GOOD-BY ER HOWDY-DO . , GOOD, OLD-FASHIONED PEOPLE, THE GRAMPA S CHOICE . . . GRANDFATHER SQUEERS . GRANNY . . . . GRIGGSBY S STATION . -. GUINEY-PIGS GUSTATORY ACHIEVEMENT, A HAPPY DREAM, A . . HAPPY LITTLE CRIPPLE, THE HER POET-BROTHER . . HIRED MAN S DOG-STORY, THE NUMBER HToM. SDA^ o . 257 . -. .. w . 204 -r . 187 i; I ;jr . 168 I JKJ . 234 . ... THQI T /! . 181 <r*" /TiMLJ JAJJT: . 85 . X ait 4 YJJ J a . 47 . . .. 33 pi Top 2*4$ 83 . n.Uivi ;*AiQ 3 . 245 . auT . 267 . . .74 QXA x.aa . 177 :iHj ,H3jJi . 176 HIRED MAN S FAITH IN CHILDREN, THE . . . 159 His MOTHER S WAY ....... 112 His PA S ROMANCE ..... jJiM . 161 HOME AGAIN ..... .\w\ Ki.ia: . 220 "HOMEAG IN" ........ 151 HOME-FOLKS . . . 3HT ,Q3-<r/i^-2-jijT . 144 HOME-MADE FAIRY TALE, A <*/. A a^W a/.MT.siHH . 38 HOODOO, THE . . 3* AM pr aa^ J 3Hrcl^ ? . 124 HOOSIER CALENDAR, A WJoX aajtrxaaijU /^, . 175 HOOSIER SPRING-POETRY <iaAjQ xHgl, ra^aa-iH^ . 191 Hoss, THE ...... 3n . 22 "How DTD You REST, LAST NIGHT?" . g/J. viia io . 134 How IT HAPPENED . . aooj J^HT UXA 4:>iCI 3JTiiS How JOHN QUIT THE FARM sigjD30JTiJ-pwT-jaj . Ill HYMB OF FAITH, A . . g.iTM 2yjHO .a gT^HoX 3^TT^ Q\I . . A ,8W3lV 8 f YoS 3MAJ 3JTTlJ 579 INDEX OF TITLES NUMBER I GOT TO FACE MOTHER TO-DAY - ;H T , j jx jir-^A 1^8 IDIOT, AN ...... aiA ^ 3HT . 158 IMPETUOUS RESOLVE, AN . . . .*uwcixx 97 IMPROMPTU FAIRY-TALE, AN . . -awnll KA - 221 IN FERVENT PRAISE OF PICNICS . Tc3;ioi.H /. "-<]. 238 IN THE NIGHT ..... Dions ?;, 76 INTELLECTUAL LIMITATIONS . gfluautjS SMIT. 227 IRY AND BILLY AND Jo . . . .. .. .121 IT S GOT TO BE ..... /.OJTAT& g 190 JACK THE GIANT KILLER . A. /r.-t. uovH.fcHjA.yfl . 114 JAP MILLER ........ 113 JAYBIRD, THE ..... A.,MA/!iO 241 J IM ..... snT ,ajTitjO ;-MTTI.. 51 JOHN ALDEN AND PERCILLY . . -^HTOHE-T . 128 JOLLY MILLER, THE . . ,,T .YaT-;>wG f < YL. . 102 JONEY .,*; , JWT ,X.-i>HIJlD /J HTU. I ViAl - 46 F ,-, : . -y/.V/ g asuroM arTf KINGRY S MILL ..... SDX/JAOH ; . 45 KNEE-DEEP IN JUNE ..... v.it-^j . 41 LAND OF THUS-AND-SO, THE . . . gun . 84 "LAST CHRISTMAS WAS A YEAR AGO" cMt-. l aa/, . 203 LIKE His MOTHER USED TO MAKE . . ^wT . 49 LINES TO AN UNSETTLED YOUNG MAN ,H/,n>!HJA3 258 LINES TO PERFESSER JOHN CLARK RIDPATH -:\m?< . 36 LISPER, THE ....... 31; . 163 LITTLE COUSIN JASPER rjioiX.T/-.,L ,-\^-M :.;.)Y a . 212 LITTLE DICK AND THE CLOCK . . a^s TiAH . 229 LlTTLE-GlRL-TwO-LlTTLE-GlRLS . \ 7 L 3IIT .TI jQ. Vl . 244 LITTLE JOHNTS S CHRIS MUS . . A .,H ri/.H . 88 LITTLE LAME BOY S VIEWS, A ..... 179 INDEX OF TITLES LITTLE MANDY S CHRISTMAS-TREE LITTLE MOCK-MAN, THE . LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE . LITTLE TINY KICKSHAW, THE . LITTLE TOWN o TAILHOLT, THE LIZABUTH-ANN ON BAKIN -DAY LIZ-TOWN HUMORIST, A . . MAN BY THE NAME OF BOLUS, A >. MAN IN THE MOON, THE . mT "* MARTHY ELLEN . . . :1 ^ MAX AND JIM .... MAYMIE S STORY OF RED RIDING-HOOD ME AND MARY .... MISTER HOP-TOAD . . MONGST THE HlLLS o SOMERSET //-. MORTUL PRAYER, A . "MOTHER" .... MULBERRY TREE, THE . MUSKINGUM VALLEY, THE MY CONSCIENCE . . MY DANCIN -DAYS Is OVER MY FIDDLE . . MY FIRST WOMERN . ^ . MY HENRY . . . MY PHILOSOFY . . .:--. >J MY RUTHERS . . f-i^HA "MYLO JONES S WIFE" . NAME Us No NAMES No MORE NAUGHTY CLAUDE . . NEVER TALK BACK .. NUMBER Y 86 * 4 8 gr . 56 ..60 .,< . 55 J a . 184 ^QiHH/3-cL* xaufT YZ^AJU) cuQ anT ,wc*o . 218 3T &&* - 63 J ^VH . 253 17 145 -.V 214 .Y3^ T j /- &* . 185 . 3HO . 12 >-<tf^ 133 3J . 266 . .aj?T ,<ji^ . 150 3T W W 14 .YHA;;HU;(O. ^ . 261 .ijoi.i;[(J 0x4 a.irjjH . 136 fQ. HTA^Q 16 194 95 169 INDEX OF TITLES NUMBER NEW YEAR S TIME AT WILLARDS S, A . -j .;//,!//}/ $2 NOBLE OLD ELM, THE . .. 3H ? //^M^soM 232 NOTHIN TO SAY . . .. :[I>! .KA TKAHI*( - 196 n . 3HT ,WAH3ajI>I YXlT SJTTlJ OLD BAND, THE ,. " ,. 3. H T .CJOHJIA YM. 202 "OLD BOB WHITE" . ^a-SKix/a wo-w - 23 6 OLD-FASHIONED ROSES . . ,. A fraiaouuH* v.woT-x^S OLD GRANNY DUSK 166 OLD HAYMOW, THE . . g-j^I -*> SMA^ SHT 82 OLD HOME BY THE MILL, THE . , H T ,*ot>M airr 71 OLD HOME-FOLKS, THE . . .. .Y.AIM.I v 252 OLD INDIANY . MI^ a 264 OLD JOHN CLEVENGER ON BUCKEYES . o ^JiorB g 1 2 ^ OLD JOHN HENRY .. . . . .. Y ^/i 2 *5 OLD MAN AND JIM, THE . . . aM>T-K*H 2 ^ OLD MAN WHISKERY-\VHEE-KUM-\VHEEZE 3HT . 243 OLD MAN S MEMORY, AN . . .A ?>iiVA c [ ^5 OLD MAN S NURSERY RHYME . . . "^H 80 OLD OCTOBER .... . WI T ^^T- Y 50 OLD PLAYED-OUT SONG, A ; <HT ,Y uj>.Y MJ.J 17 OLD SWIMMIN -HOLE, THE . . <A >Y^#:/.^ v?4 OLD TRAMP, THE . . tvO *I 8YAa-V,i:.! . 93 OLD WINTERS ON THE FARM . . . , a .., . 126 ON ANY ORDENARY MAN IN A HIGH STATE OF LAUGHTURE AND DELIGHT . . . J/K; . 29 ON THE BANKS o DEER CRICK . ... YTO?OJ HO ON THE DEATH OF LITTLE MAHALA ASHCRAFT . . 11 OUR BETSY .... V->!7A 8*2:i*o1 . 164 OUR HIRED GIRL ""?" 109 OUR OLD FRIEND NEVERFAIL j}/ > /l.z3if/,Yi. <M z 262 OUR QUEER OLD WORLD .. .. . a-jAiD YTIK 155 ^M . - . . . JJOAff iiJAT HiV^^ 582 INDEX OF TITLES PAP S OLD SAYIN . . . au->wKMeD PARENT REPRIMANDED, A . . . 3M H-T/ PENALTY OF GENIUS, THE . . . !H T t ajiH3 PEN-PICTUR OF A CERT IN FRIWOLUS OLD MAN, A . PERVERSITY . ^HT ^1 03 a /-.U aJD*iU ttui PET COON, THE .... a T ,HH - POEMS HERE AT HOME, THE . . /_ .y/.Q a NUMBER 34 246 233 25 193 94 "PREACHER S BOY, THE" . %a T Kf7/ PRIOR TO Miss BELLE S APPEARANCE . PROSPECTIVE GLIMPSE, A RABBIT . RAGGEDY MAN, THE . . . / RAGGEDY MAN ON CHILDREN, THE . RAMBO-TREE, THE . . > REGARDIN TERRY-HUT . . . RHYMES OF IRONQUILL, THE . . RIGHT HERE AT HOME F> R ^ 3 "RINGWORM FRANK" . ? .^^g? 81 ? : RIVALS ; OR THE SHOWMAN S RUSE, THE ROMANCIN . . . *V aTA . J ROSSVILLE LECTUR COURSE, THE | ^ RuBXivXT OF Doc SIFERS l .* M ^ u * . u RUNAWAY BOY, THE . J * y ^- H: ait- 96 . g] 100 92 > 180 * 104 183 . * " J j 22S e3H0 ^ K> r. . 156 . 119 138 . 81 a ; lCl . -I a] SCHOOLBOY S FAVORITE, THE SCOTTY SESSION WITH UNCLE SIDNEY, A SHE "DISPLAINS" IT . . SISTER JONES S CONFESSION SMITTEN PURIST, THE . SOME CHRISTMAS YOUNGSTERS . 130 250 TluQ .g xoaiii . 147 YHTSTJOD .or/I - 216 .. 3 HX ,MOOJ. - 237 3^1 T .aoQ^K^ . 101 . .. **3^ -wia,-120 -Y 157 . 174 SOME SCATTERING REMARKS OF BUB S 129 INDEX OF TITLES NUMBER SOMEP N COMMON-LIKE . " * " . viYAci a. . 59 SPIRITS AT HOME . . * A .na<iKAMiM i:-.5J . 173 SPOILED CHILD, THE . . > *"*T -.aui^aO ;i<> . 210 SQUIRE HAWKINS S STORY . *"% m TysD .4 10 YJI . 208 SQUIRT-GUN UNCLE MAKED ME, THE . . : ; . 78 STEPMOTHER, THE .... .61 SUMMER S DAY, A . . 3i T $w *. 3#?.H suaofc SUMMER-TIME AND WINTER-TIME "~wT ,1408 ft. na.h . 149 SYMPTOMS . . 3 J;AHAaj4A ?-3Jja3 i2iJ^ . 188 S : A ^HLOjH aviT03^3O^I TALE OF THE AIRLY DAYS, A 19 THAT-AIR YOUNG-UN . . * T *V ^ THEM FLOWERS . .^p- %,- UH^ -"- o -^/M ^^ "THEM OLD CHEERY WORDS" 7 3H T 3 3fl 16 THINKIN BACK . . . ^H-yHJiaT i 182 THIS MAN JONES . . ., T . T , r . T . 65 THOMAS THE PRETENDER . . MO H T/ -ii] THOUGHTS FER THE DISCURAGED FARMER . 3 . v., T a* THOUGHTS ON A PORE JOKE ....,.. . 1T o, v ^6 THOUGHTS ON THE LATE WAR 201 THREE JOLLY HUNTERS, THE r v- i O LJT ^^ To MY OLD FRIEND, WILLIAM LEACH MAN r . . 13 To "THE J. W. R. LITERARY CLUB" ^ ycO* v 263 To "UNCLE REMUS" . . . ". "* : / "r . 152 TOM JOHNSON S QUIT . sjrT ,3ri. . 70 TOWN AND COUNTRY 30 TOY-BALLOON, THE . . ^arS.^j^JJ nrjvr . 165 TOY PENNY-DOG, THE . .. .. T! V/.iA^a: . 143 "TRADIN JOE" . . . Kois^dKuO ?/aa,no . 206 TRAIN-MISSER, THE . . . 3." T ,T?.I . 48 TREE-TOAD, THE . . laayao /iuoY a/-.MT2jO.ak63 TRULY MARVELOUS, THE JH !;! ^HA^aSl ^i> . 209 584 INDEX OP TITLES NUMBER TWINS, THE Two SONNETS TO THE JUNE-BUG .... 260 UNCLE MART S POEM 256 UNCLE SIDNEY . . 72 UNCLE SIDNEY S LOGIC 146 UNCLE WILLIAM S PICTURE . . 207 UP AND DOWN OLD BRANDYWINE . . . .135 Us FARMERS IN THE COUNTRY . WAITIN PER THE CAT TO DIE . . 73 WANT TO BE WHUR MOTHER Is .62 WAY IT Wuz, THE 69 WET-WEATHER TALK .... WHAT CHRIS MAS FETCHED THE WIGGINSES . . 125 WHAT LITTLE SAUL GOT, CHRISTMAS . . . 186 WHAT SMITH KNEW ABOUT FARMING . . . 259 WHATEVER THE WEATHER MAY BE . . .68 WHEN LIDE MARRIED HIM 137 WHEN OUR BABY DIED 77 WHEN THE FROST Is ON THE PUNKTN ... 10 WHEN THE GREEN GITS BACK IN THE TREES . . 66 WHEN THE HEARSE COMES BACK .... 42 WHEN THE WORLD BU STS THROUGH . . .91 WHEN WE FIRST PLAYED "SHOW" .... 224 WHO SANTY CLAUS Wuz ...... 64 WORTERMELON TlME 9 WRITIN BACK TO THE HOME-FOLKS .... 132 YOUTHFUL PATRIOT, THE .139 585 3I JV. J -i r-i-/- V DIOoJ or TA 3HT Ji;ii KITEA. UUV/ 33 OT TvTA WOII 5" Tltt?, TATlV/ Y8 .8 srjO T80JI T I 3HT /: I^MO 3ITT 3MlT ^O. 3HT OT i?3 anT .TOIHTA*! INDEX OF FIRST LINES i iO X:i(..iKJ. INDEX OF FIRST LINES Lines thus designated * are not the first lines of individual poems but of parts of longer poems PAGE A Child-World, yet a wondrous world no less . . 505 A little boy once played so loud -rtl^J bw i.B9% ^ . 431 A man by the name of Bolus (all at we ll ever know 420 A old Tramp slep in our stable wunst > \u :tetd I: . 170 A passet o boys last night tyjoi{ -juo uj ormp : . 135 A thing at s bout as tryin as a healthy man kin meet 81 Abe Martin ! dad-burn his old picture -J Q* u ^d "- . 570 After a thoughtful, almost painful pause . iwp* . 144 All at I ever want to be . o^Iliv^oa jfi 97^,1 . 298 All my feelin s in the Spring ..... 320 Allus when our Pa he s away . ~^l J^SSuJ o& . 470 Armazindy; fambily name ^uorf.tiro qt **mv> . . 241 As fair as summer just begun Vfy! to^fm^ . vll tfl . 572 As it s give me to perceive . fi/3.iulw. ai gs " . 59 At Billy Miller s Circus-Show ..... 317 Awf lest boy in this-here town . rf TpQoIr^^tl* . 427 18 f . . "loo* t b*H" *Babe she s so always --^ .vii^-S^y? <n\q & *&\ . 326 Bleak January ! Cold as fate . vtz^id Jf&i&B . 328 Bud, come here to your uncle a spell . ^>i^ t an^p:> . 73 "Cassander ! O Cassander !" her mother s voice seems cle r . . . . ": - fiavi ^4 J*n uo^ L. . 285 Cause Herbert Graham s a only child HIiW bi-uo . 409 Childern take em as they run . -^ vq n ^[ ^y1^jM . 345 Come listen, good people, while a story I do tell . 51 "Coon-dog Wess" he allus went orj X !y P* ^"P S" . 34 3cf oi bn^l q t nob -*$n .t ftis I Dawn, noon and dewfall ! Bluebird and robin . . 211 Dogs, I contend, is jes about . \VnuiHT ^^y*^ . 332 589 INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE Elsie Mingus lisps, she does ! 1) . 76 .* jsns gb *"; * ^ ^i. 311 r cq to Inrt RtflfM-i Fer any boy at s little as me ikuov/ G 13 Cvbho.W . 270 Fer forty year and better you have been a friend to me 22 Fire! Fire! Ring and ring -^ufoH to amen >;( < / 321 First and best of earthly joys . r .m qt??. qi;ji . 343 First she come to our house j^I-gi n .isj;;I avoJ > H9 First the teacher called the roll ni ?s> JwoJ siJr. - 219 Folks has be n to town, and Sahry sT.rj. -!.*!>-- -! ;!} . 83 Folks in town, I reckon, thinks : >fi ^ R ,in4ti!v;xj<i 365 Folks up here at Rossville got up a Lectur Course . 63 Giunts is the biggest mens they air . c f lo,Mo w 409 Granny s come to our house ->niBa .vfrdri^}- -->\-{) 91 Guess at Billy hain t got back.ugod lac/t T^nrrrw :, 238 Guiney-pigs is awful cute . v/ko-iiK? ot.yiir /i 153 Had a harelip Joney had iv/t ^Tjif-^iif* t -;*>il 89 "Had, too!" 181 He was jes* a plain, ever -day, all-round kind of jour. 97 He s jes a great, big, awk ard, hulkin . n&in . 258 Ho! it s come, kids, come sbrro twov: oj ^ T^il -;i 436 Ho ! the old Snow-Man 552 Home-folks ! Well, that-air name to me . ) . T >! . 266 "How did you rest, last night?" .... 253 "How would Willie like to go . m^rnnQ ;hMrit -.>] 154 Howdy, Mister Hop-Toad ! Glad to see you out . 267 I ain t a-goin* to cry no more, no more -">:?y/.y.<. . 310 I ain t, ner don t p tend to be . . . 1 I believe all childern s good f[. M! -Jv/ :f>.brTfi a..n . 294 I be n a-kindo "musin ," as the feller says, and I m . 11.5 590 INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE T be n down to the Capital at Washington, D. C. . 368 I buried my first womern . f ^--orn.3^ QJ vt^v . 564 I got no patience with blues at all (>krow nr>ri" -tfii . 65 F got to face Mother to-day, fer a fact ?io, -aojo?- . 339 I got to thinkin of her both her parunts dead and gone uia, {fntettf blo.^rft rtf jbsd }irg r>? bt>>$ virii. 7 I hain t no hand at tellin tales . srwrfi iwtrorjm . 398 I have jest about decided . fil .lo ^t 1 ^Nrf e . 232 I kin hump my back and take the rain ^sn rAni^ . . 322 I like fun and I like jokes irejn iio.w/rog * . .57 I rickollect the little tad, back, years and years ago . 172 I s pose it takes a feller at s be n . t -aknoHiJts . 342 I tell you what I d ruther do -. t^M -ffi jiwoh.13 . 30 I thought the deacon liked me, yit . . . . 215 "I was born in Indiany," says a stranger, lank and slim . . > rf sug f t smAn Jtovt *i rf fe teofl jln . 94 I was for Union you, ag in* it frae ! . . 374 If you don t know Doc Sifers I ll jes* argy, here and now fiittv . fo&- . 481 I m a-feelin ruther sad ^fmvvrmbjg! 3?ort T J *B . 276 I m bin a-visitun bout a week . c jj)il jum ^nr . 423 I m gittin old I know . ;c yuo . //. ?rrti?i-tf . 346 I m not a-workin now . ^i t . - iV - r r . . 351 I m one o these cur ous kind o chaps <n.I J ru^h . 392 I m on y thist a idiot . nja-: . . fo h . 293 I m thist a little cripple boy, an* never goin to grow . 141 I m twins, I guess, cause my Ma say . \~t\s\ . 457 In spring, when the green gits back in the trees . 127 In the golden noon-shine . f 30700 *. >[ rm A 1 . . 273 In the jolly winters . : firf 2fv^vrn bhov. .srlt n\ ? . 150 Iry an Billy an Jo } .-<>* If,-, iri lys-v* n/3 .tovt . 216 It hain t no use to grumble and complane . .n . 49 59 ^ INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE It was a Jolly Miller lived on the River Dee . . 182 It s a irrystery to see me a man o fifty-four . . 206 It s a purty hard world you find, my child :Htxq . 288 It s lonesome sorto lonesome, it s a Sund y-day, to me b&b 1 Rininr,q i-xL iftotl T>ri }o VrAA\ . 61 It s mighty good to git back to the old town, shore . 375 It s the curiousest thing in creation . tf; iutf}.on 1V 32 I ve allus held till jest of late jhfoob JWOOR <*>[ > 289 I ve be n thinkin back, of late >n& >hs<l vrrr qrmrrf. 343 I ve thought a power on men and things . nf;~ ni . 212 Janey Pettibone s the best a te* lofbt JK *9-.-!fir..ti . 169 Jap Miller down at Martinsville s the blamedest feller yit . ... }?--/. ,f>m te Jil -.noor^b 3fh it . 203 Jes* a little bit o feller I remember still roc! . 123 Jest Frank Reed s his real name though . . 261 Jest rain and snow! and rain again . --no rnTJ. if . 59 bffR- rt Sii ,V-tx *z j[ ll l 2i3ti8 ooCI won>! J nob rroy It Las Juty and, I persume . ..... 133 Las time at Uncle Sidney come {>.K narfjrn /jilo . 167 *Lrtj^ Chris mus, little Benny . c jujotf wisji-iy-* . 325 Last Christmas was a j^ear ago v/en>I 1. bu.). n tjji. 377 Last Thanksgivin -dinner we . vt>n fri.ri. ,-//,-,.; jr^ 458 Lawzy! don t I rickollect N?j>f ttiQ*i\ : .->. or? t. o . 139 Lish, you rickollect that-air . joibl . T ;: ?r>U!j . 422 Little Cousin Jasper, he a rrK ,xo<? al(jqfi343lJ iiI. : . 411 "Little Haly ! Little Haly !" cheeps the robin in the tree 19 Little Mandy and her Ma . rg.nwv ocfT.ri :> : i-/4 .^ . 160 Little Orphant Annie s come to our house to stay . Ill LI where in the world my eyes has bin vV<;v/ {i lo i y 93 Look so neat an sweet in all yer frills an fancy pleatin ^hfifqoVo * .hm; tf.hw&s ot. wi on 1 ? (i- 178 INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE Ma put my Penny-Dog !j<j>^*j& blwcxD I. zwotoofc a 265 Max an Jim . . !^r*i ^ t*g<f ribh bixl t< . 152 Me an Bert an Minnie-Belle . 9f fj j a4tjj js am 4 ^5 Mongst the Hills o Somerset . ri-Vununiw bio 414 Most ontimely old man yit . . . q 9 ^ . 54 Mostly, folks is law-abidin s rficntl rftefbir Ifirf* u< ^7 My dear old friends It jes beats all , 9 ^j|[ }, j, . 250 My fiddle? Well, I kindo keep her handy, don t you know .... Jaeil 9ffe gf amis ebr 25 "My grandfather Squeers," said The Raggedy Man . 156 My mother she s so good to me 3*- 9^11*03 ,^nc 188 My old Uncle Sidney he says it s a sign . r 9 Q ; . 350 "Mylo Jones s wife" was all . .rft.Vabfint ^iVmfo ^0 : tfia" t>J ffDUffr bfirf ivdrt ius/ti MO Never talk back ! sich things is repperhensible . . 319 Nobody on the old farm here but Mother, me and John 196 Noey Bixler ketched him, an fetched him in to me . 171 Noon-time and June-time, down around the river . 114 Nothin to say, my daughter! Nothin at all to say 362 Now, Tudens, you sit on this knee and scuse . 443 O Big Old Tree so tall an fine i f M .intol* -j 437 *O here s a little rhyme for the Spring- or Summer time . . .yBb- t onliBcfig ii 5tiw. t hiiO.btj . 448 O it s good to ketch a relative at s richer and don t run si$! >U J . . 566 O, it s many s the scenes which is dear to my mind . 29 O The Raggedy Man ! He works f er Pa 9 rf j; . 185 O there were three jolly hunters :!oui?.}-i>[u duo bjsrf 263 O, Thou that doth all things devise . 3 j ^ a ?a [\ B ^ 12 O what did the little boy do r, ,JffaivlngJ*q gjrf j, . 262 "O, what is Life at last," says you . t ji^ j njb ih ;l 557 593 INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE Of all the doctors I could cite you to in this- ere town 128 Oh, if we had a rich boss . . . . rsii] . 352 Oh! tell me a tale of the airly days . M .Yrs int)( . 39 Oh ! the old swimmin -hole ! whare the crick so still and deep . . . .Jiv n^rn bio (lam too i?.cd Oh ! Thou that veileth from all eyes ffil.-gi-edlo: . 57 Oh ! what ef little childerns all Jlv-fcbrw-ri hio . 338 Old Bob White s a funny bird mrf I jteV/V^ . 442 Old friends allus is the best 418 Old Granny Dusk, when the sun goes down . .316 Old Indiany, course we know . >OQQ oa ^ srfe .131 . 567 Old John Clevenger lets on C* jA.v-jiz/u^ olarrlJ . 42 Old John s jes made o the commonest stuff ?. atm> . 416 Old man never had much to say .... 371 Old Man Whiskery- Whee-Kum- Wheeze . ^L;l< . 456 Old October s purt nigh gone . inv,i IJo ?:!*;-:.. . 95 Old wortermelon time is a-comin round again . 14 On old Brandywine about oU .sfnij-anuj. b.iaar . 86 On Scursion-days an* Shows an Fairs -.03 . 340 On the banks o Deer Crick ! There s the place f er me 195 One time, when we z at Aunty s house . . . 183 One s the pictur of his Pa .ft. nc fk* (.?..wT.b\ . 233 Our hired girl, she s Lizabuth Ann . ; Q|;J . . 192 Our Hired Girl, when it s bakin -day . . . 345 Owned a pair o skates onc t. Traded jty ot bo<vg . 220 Pa he bringed me here to stay ^in?o? artf gVnfirrr. 440 Pa wunst he scold an says to me . , vlr^^A iw 269 Pap had one old-fashioned sayin .UiH wufi y\wt . 66 Pap he allus ust to say . . . iftob ifi/ft . 294 Pap s got his pattent-right, and rich as all creation . 75 Parunts don t git toys an things rg/;I IE tjHT 4! } . 327 594 INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE Parunts knows lots more than us itrto iua}o giH . 432 Picnics is fun at s purty hard to beat #iaib tedinhu] 449 Pore-folks lives at Lonsomeville :bnsiqg ?.i ad geoi 262 Ras Wilson, I respect you, cause o jujrn-^boM. ah . 27 Right here at home, boys, in old Hoosierdom . . 214 Said The Raggedy Man, on a hot afternoon -lyruifc . 175 Say good-by er howdy-do jirO i>n t f . -doll . 318 Scotty s dead. Of course he is 3(U s v/orrmiH I. . 417 " Scur ous-like," said the tree-toad . & ?l^d itfnyoU yrl ^ Seems like a feller d ort o jes to-day bar// i^rni . 213 Sence I tuk holt o Gibbses Churn . . e^T . 105 Sence little Wesley went, the place seems all so strange and still .%mnvl bas.^rftoM hns .lar .rsH. gj; . 363 Settin round the stove, last night -^touq w/i i aev> . 84 Sing, oh, rarest of roundelays . instil W*0.ni bk . 359 Some peoples thinks they ain t no Fairies now . 539 Some sings of the lilly, and daisy, and rose 3 auw. varff Somep n at s common-like, and good >\ Io bnlA . 118 Sometimes I think at Parunts does s:xibint*iq . 458 Sometimes my Conscience says, says he . nitbo . 571 Sometimes, when I bin bad ;d ymuli blO &4T" . 139 Such was the Child-World of the long-ago oa . 510 Take a feller at s sick and laid up on the shelf . 218 "Talkin bout yer bees," says Ike f Viiv;filq sulk z\v 384 Talkin o poetry There re few men yit . [[js.tt . 557 Tell you a story an it s a fac .... 204 Tell you what I like the best . i oJ sir enid! 91 77 That-air young-un ust to set ,jwx>b xw* ifi* avi 3d a; 147 The Boy lives on our Farm, he s not fUr ,v5hnbi . 190 595 INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE The delights of our childhood is soon passed away . 68 The funniest thing in the world, I know . rni^-g . 163 The hoss he is a splendud beast ;mvl \&*vyi if. k~A . 46 The Jaybird he s my favorite ..... 453 The Little Mock-man on the Stairs . qzy\ I ,HOJ>. . 272 The little tiny kickshaw that Mither sent tae me . 118 The moon in the sky is a custard pie .... 357 The Muskingum Valley How longin the gaze . 252 The Old Bob-white, and Chipbird . ;H.i.> vJ-! . 264 The Old Haymow s the place to play lO- -.]>i 3b . 152 The Poems here at Home! Who ll write em down 361 The summer winds is sniffin round the bloomin lo cus trees . . mi J . Vj^ddi*.) V>.Hon atui I. 8 The Summer s put the idy in . Jtv^-ir *r-j\t*jff &li . 10 There was Father, and Mother, and Emmy, and Jane 323 There wasn t two purtier farms in the stater bam . 558 There s old man Willards ; an his wife \Q Izi ist . 99 They ain t no style about em . v;fj ?.-Anull zolqo . 74 They wuz a Big Day wunst in town . tujt :;o r/nr . 314 They s a kind o feel in the air, to me arfjro V^ . 283 They s a prejudice allus twixt country and town . 60 They s nothin in the name to strike . io3 xrn.?-> 121 This is The Old Home by the Mill" fei we still call it so . e-anpl vii lo.bno7/ r -b!LfD ><!* 2 . 137 This man Jones was what you d call .... 124 Thweet Poethy! let me lithp forthwith- alls isJb . 292 Tommy s alluz playin* jokes V% \^^J i^v jirfd ; . 432 Tomps ud allus haf to say : ^raio/fT y/i3 r >oq o . 202 W^ ha . C>IK old-fa .! .< -. 1 Piil; fe li ii viola uo{ IiT *Uncle he learns us to rhyme an* write -IH J tflvv . 448 *Uncle he says at way down in the sea . WH 447 Uncle Sidney, when he was here ! .;ino ao H-J ill io^ 14^ 596 \ INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE *Uncle Sidney s vurry proud ^-iqowS sb-bid sitti, . 448 Uncle William, last July . noiioM guIIoT lw . 396 Up and down old Brandywine . IB &M ^m "ii. si . 254 *Us childern s all so lonesome . ..heiib.xd^fi. iu . 312 Us farmers in the country, as the seasons go and come 71 Us-folks is purty pore but Ma . .. >borfe Dffu 450 Us parents mostly thinks our own s . ?nbt2 slonl . 349 Q*> . . IbJ ^anbici 9 bn!I -ussri w iwrfW "Want to be whur mother is! Want to be whur mother is!" . . . >miMoniinu2. 73 ,ami. . 120 Wasn t it a funny dream ! perfectly bewild rin . 425 Wasn t it a good time tl.xoiMsqqsq Tuo.b^oot . 428 We got it up a-purpose, jes fer little Johnts, you know ..... 9?/rnnillI m teaW x*w 163 We got up a Christmas-doin s . nirj^ft-s^n jw. 3^ . 234 We love your dear old face and voice ^uw ->intt * . 283 Well, it s enough to turn his head to have a feller s name ......... 267 What is it in old fiddle-chunes at makes me ketch my breath .... wornf I. ,3:>oI!o>bH a; . 274 What makes you come here fer, Mister . onj 9 . 179 "Whatever the weather may be," says he . od . 131 When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree isia bn& rf: . 430 When Bess gave her dollies a Tea, said she .>m. 3> . 459 When Dicky was sick ,\~v . oJfiwo-j .arf* ru aiodrt? . 433 When ever thing s a-goin like she s got-a-goin now 356 When frost s all on our winder, an the snows . . 450 When I was ist a Brownie a weenty-teenty Brownie 413 "When it s got to be," like I always say . . . 354 When it s night, and no light, too .... 144 When Lide married him w y, she had to jes clee-fy 259 When Little Claude was naughty wunst . . .172 597 INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE When Little Dickie Swope s a man . <7 f\?ni .175 When little Tollus Morton he s ;!! t^L .rmBtllrV/ . 438 When Me an my Ma an Pa went to the Fair . . 383 When our baby died . . jrnoeonol.o?. Kg f. uishlr . 145 When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder s in the shock . . ^M -ttifi -9 toq ^intiq ei e?&&- 17 When Uncle Sidney he comes here . vjjdorn ^Jn:> . 410 When we hear Uncle Sidney tell . . . .439 Where s a boy a-goin Ui ia;toora ttiAvr ocf. oj . 168 Winter-time, er Summer-time . . .. ! *t. 11 . 221 Wunst I sassed my Pa, an he . rEo.ib Nrfjnij} Jr . 191 Wimst I tooked our pepper-box lid . hoo^ 3 . 237 Wunst upon a time wunst 5^ ,9*OirM;q- <IJ. it . 424 Wunst, way West in Illinoise ..... 453 Wunst we went a-fishin Me . tBtp.te nti 3 s /?u . 189 W y, one time wuz a little-ween ty dirl u;:xL> luvi ^ 534 W y, wunst they wuz a Little Boy went out:ort2 g . 547 You better not fool with a Bumblebee ri Mo rd Jt . 167 You-folks rickollect, I know . . . .. : . 460 You have more n likely noticed 90103 ,voy ?3> f r . 358 You kin boast about yer cities, and their stiddy growth and size jpi}-otfmT .srft z rA&\z nrnaJti/ . 110 You make me jes a little nervouser ri i?7y i;go^ . 563 Your neghbors in the country, whare you come from, hain t f ergot 2...fSJ. ^fUV.ros-s >: ^!rir{J e .i9v3 . 69 598 RETURN TO: CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT 198 Main Stacks LOAN PERIOD 1 Home Use 2 3 4 5 6 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS. 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