The Book of Joyous Children by James Whitcomb Riley
J >>
James Whitcomb Riley >> The Book of Joyous Children
THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN
[Illustration]
JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
[Illustration]
THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN
JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
_Illustrated by_
J.W. VAWTER
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1902
Copyright, 1902, by
JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
-------------------------
_Published October, 1902_
THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN
[Illustration: "NOT IN CLASSIC LORE, BUT RICH IN THE CHILD-SAGAS OF THE
KITCHEN."]
GRATEFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY
INSCRIBED
TO
JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS
* * * * *
_You who to the rounded prime_
_Of a life of toil and stress_,
_Still have kept the morning-time_
_Of glad youth in heart and spirit_,
_So your laugh, as children hear it_,
_Seems their own, no less_,--
_Take this book of childish rhyme_--
_The Book of Joyous Children_.
_Their first happiness on earth_
_Here is echoed--their first glee_:
_Rich, in sooth, the volume's worth_--
_Not in classic lore, but rich in_
_The child-sagas of the kitchen_;--
_Therefore, take from me_
_To your heart of childish mirth_
_The Book of Joyous Children_.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
CONTENTS
PROEM
THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN
AN IMPROMPTU FAIRY-TALE
DREAM-MARCH
ELMER BROWN
NO BOY KNOWS
WHEN WE FIRST PLAYED "SHOW"
A DIVERTED TRAGEDY
THE RAMBO-TREE
FIND THE FAVORITE
THE BOY PATRIOT
EXTREMES
INTELLECTUAL LIMITATIONS
A MASQUE OF THE SEASONS
THOMAS THE PRETENDER
LITTLE DICK AND THE CLOCK
FOOL-YOUNGENSZ
THE KATYDIDS
BILLY AND HIS DRUM
THE NOBLE OLD ELM
THE PENALTY OF GENIUS
EVENSONG
THE TWINS
THE LITTLE LADY
"COMPANY MANNERS"
IN FERVENT PRAISE OF PICNICS
THE GOOD, OLD-FASHIONED PEOPLE
THE BEST TIMES
"HIK-TEE-DIK!"
A CHRISTMAS MEMORY
"OLD BOB WHITE"
A SESSION WITH UNCLE SIDNEY:
I ONE OF HIS ANIMAL STORIES
II UNCLE BRIGHTENS UP
III SINGS A "WINKY-TOODEN" SONG
IV AND MAKES NURSERY RHYMES
1 THE DINERS IN THE KITCHEN
2 THE IMPERIOUS ANGLER
3 THE GATHERING OF THE CLANS
4 "IT"
5 THE DARING PRINCE
A DUBIOUS "OLD KRISS"
A SONG OF SINGING
THE JAYBIRD
A BEAR FAMILY
SOME SONGS AFTER MASTER-SINGERS:
I SONG
II TO THE CHILD JULIA
III THE DOLLY'S MOTHER
IV WIND OF THE SEA
V SUBTLETY
VI BORN TO THE PURPLE
OLD MAN WHISKERY-WHEE-KUM-WHEEZE
LITTLE-GIRL-TWO-LITTLE-GIRLS
A GUSTATORY ACHIEVEMENT
CLIMATIC SORCERY
A PARENT REPRIMANDED
THE TREASURE OF THE WISE MAN
[Illustration]
* * * * *
FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS
NOT IN CLASSIC LOOK, BUT RICH IN THE CHILD-SAGAS OF THE KITCHEN
KNEEL, ALL GLOWING, TO THE COOL SPRING
NO BOY KNOWS WHEN HE GOES TO SLEEP
JAMESY ON THE SLACK-ROPE
ACROSS THE ORCHARD
WHILE ALL THE ARMY, FOLLOWING, IN CHORUS CHEERS AND SINGS
WHERE IT GOES WHEN THE FIRE GOES OUT?
THE FAIRY QUEEN OF THE SEASONS
PORE PA! PORE PA!
SQUINT' OUR EYES AN' LAUGH' AGAIN
HE'S A-MARCHIN' ROUND THE ROOM
THE OLD TREE SAYS HE'S ALL OUR TREE
THEREFORE READ NO LONGER
SHE'S BUT A RACING SCHOOL-GIRL
THEY WAS GOD'S PEOPLE
THEM WUZ THE BEST TIMES EVER WUZ
HE'S GO' HITCH UP, CHRIS'MUS-DAY, AN' COME TAKE ME BACK AGAIN
WHEN WE DROVE TO HARMONY
A BIG, HOLLOW, OLD OAK-TREE, WHICH HAD BEEN BLOWN DOWN BY A STORM
THE YOUNG FOXES IN IT, ON THE HEARTH BESIDE HER
AN' ALL BE POETS AN' ALL RECITE
ALONG THE BRINK OF WILD BROOK-WAYS
I LIKE TO WATCH HIM
WHILE KATE PICKS BY, YET LOOKS NOT THERE
LEND ME THE BREATH OF A FRESHENING GALE
BOW TO ME IN THE WINDER THERE
OUR "OLD-KRISS"-MILKMAN
THE CHILDISH DREAMS IN HIS WISE OLD HEAD
* * * * *
THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN
Bound and bordered in leaf-green,
Edged with trellised buds and flowers
And glad Summer-gold, with clean
White and purple morning-glories
Such as suit the songs and stories
Of this book of ours,
Unrevised in text or scene,--
The Book of Joyous Children.
Wild and breathless in their glee--
Lawless rangers of all ways
Winding through lush greenery
Of Elysian vales--the viny,
Bowery groves of shady, shiny
Haunts of childish days.
Spread and read again with me
The Book of Joyous Children.
What a whir of wings, and what
Sudden drench of dews upon
The young brows, wreathed, all unsought,
With the apple-blossom garlands
Of the poets of those far lands
Whence all dreams are drawn
Set herein and soiling not
The Book of Joyous Children.
In their blithe companionship
Taste again, these pages through,
The hot honey on your lip
Of the sun-smit wild strawberry,
Or the chill tart of the cherry;
Kneel, all glowing, to
The cool spring, and with it sip
The Book of Joyous Children.
As their laughter needs no rule,
So accept their language, pray.--
Touch it not with any tool:
Surely we may understand it,--
As the heart has parsed or scanned it
Is a worthy way,
Though found not in any School
The Book of Joyous Children.
[Illustration: "KNEEL, ALL GLOWING, TO THE COOL SPRING."]
Be a truant--know no place
Of prison under heaven's rim!
Front the Father's smiling face--
Smiling, that _you_ smile the brighter
For the heavy hearts made lighter,
Since you smile with Him.
Take--and thank Him for His grace--
The Book of Joyous Children.
* * * * *
AN IMPROMPTU FAIRY-TALE
[Illustration]
_When I wuz ist a little bit_
_o' weenty-teenty kid_
_I maked up a Fairy-tale,_
_all by myse'f, I did:--_
I
Wunst upon a time wunst
They wuz a Fairy King,
An' ever'thing he have wuz _gold--_,
His clo'es, an' _ever_'thing!
An' all the other Fairies
In his goldun Palace-hall
Had to hump an' hustle--
'Cause he wuz bosst of all!
II
He have a goldun trumput,
An' when he blow' on that,
It's a sign he want' his boots,
Er his coat er hat:
They's a sign fer ever'thing,--
An' all the Fairies knowed
Ever' sign, an' come a-hoppin'
When the King blowed!
[Illustration]
III
Wunst he blowed an' telled 'em all:
"Saddle up yer bees--
Fireflies is gittin' fat
An' sassy as you please!--
Guess we'll go a-huntin'!"
So they hunt' a little bit,
Till the King blowed "Supper-time,"
Nen they all quit.
[Illustration]
IV
Nen they have a Banqut
In the Palace-hall,
An' ist et! an' et! an' et!
Nen they have a _Ball_;
An' when the _Queen_ o' Fairyland
Come p'omenadin' through,
The King says an' halts her,--
"Guess I'll marry you!"
[Illustration]
* * * * *
DREAM-MARCH
"Wasn't it a funny dream!--perfectly bewild'rin'!--
Last night, and night before, and night before that,
Seemed like I saw the march o' regiments o' children,
Marching to the robin's fife and cricket's rat-ta-tat!
Lily-banners overhead, with the dew upon 'em,
On flashed the little army, as with sword and flame;
Like the buzz o' bumble-wings, with the honey on 'em,
Came an eerie, cheery chant, chiming as it came:--
[Illustration]
_Where go the children? Travelling! Travelling_!
_Where go the children, travelling ahead_?
_Some go to kindergarten; some go to day-school_;
_Some go to night-school; and some go to bed_!
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Smooth roads or rough roads, warm or winter weather,
On go the children, tow-head and brown,
Brave boys and brave girls, rank and file together,
Marching out of Morning-Land, over dale and down:
[Illustration]
Some go a-gypsying out in country places--
Out through the orchards, with blossoms on the boughs
Wild, sweet, and pink and white as their own glad faces;
And some go, at evening, calling home the cows.
[Illustration]
_Where go the children? Travelling! Travelling_!
_Where go the children, travelling ahead_?
_Some go to foreign wars, and camps by the firelight_--
_Some go to glory so; and some go to bed_!
[Illustration]
Some go through grassy lanes leading to the city--
Thinner grow the green trees and thicker grows the dust;
Ever, though, to little people any path is pretty
So it leads to newer lands, as they know it must.
Some go to singing less; some go to list'ning;
Some go to thinking over ever-nobler themes;
Some go anhungered, but ever bravely whistling,
Turning never home again only in their dreams.
_Where go the children? Travelling! Travelling_!
_Where go the children, travelling ahead_?
_Some go to conquer things; some go to try them_;
_Some go to dream them; and some go to bed_!
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
* * * * *
[Illustration: ELMER BROWN]
ELMER BROWN
[Illustration]
Awf'lest boy in this-here town
Er anywheres is Elmer Brown!
He'll mock you--yes, an' strangers, too,
An' make a face an' yell at you,--
"_Here's_ the way _you_ look!"
[Illustration]
Yes, an' wunst in School one day,
An' Teacher's lookin' wite that way,
He helt his slate, an' hide his head,
An' maked a face at _her_, an' said,--
"_Here's_ the way _you_ look!"
[Illustration]
An' sir! when Rosie Wheeler smile
One morning at him 'crosst the aisle,
He twist his face all up, an' black
His nose wiv ink, an' whisper back,--
"_Here's_ the way _you_ look!"
[Illustration]
Wunst when his Aunt's all dressed to call,
An' kiss him good-bye in the hall,
An' latch the gate an' start away,
He holler out to her an' say,--
"_Here's_ the way _you_ look!"
[Illustration]
An' when his Pa he read out loud
The speech he maked, an' feel so proud
It's in the paper--Elmer's Ma
She ketched him--wite behind his Pa,--
"_Here's_ the way _you_ look!"
[Illustration]
Nen when his Ma she slip an' take
Him in the other room an' shake
Him good! w'y, he don't care--no-_sir_!--
He ist look up an' laugh at her,--
"_Here's_ the way _you_ look!"
* * * * *
NO BOY KNOWS
There are many things that boys may know--
Why this and that are thus and so,--
Who made the world in the dark and lit
The great sun up to lighten it:
Boys know new things every day--
When they study, or when they play,--
When they idle, or sow and reap--
But no boy knows when he goes to sleep.
Boys who listen--or should, at least,--
May know that the round old earth rolls East;--
And know that the ice and the snow and the rain--
Ever repeating their parts again--
Are all just water the sunbeams first
Sip from the earth in their endless thirst,
And pour again till the low streams leap.--
But no boy knows when he goes to sleep.
A boy may know what a long glad while
It has been to him since the dawn's first smile,
When forth he fared in the realm divine
Of brook-laced woodland and spun-sunshine;--
He may know each call of his truant mates,
And the paths they went,--and the pasture-gates
Of the 'cross-lots home through the dusk so deep.--
But no boy knows when he goes to sleep.
O I have followed me, o'er and o'er,
From the flagrant drowse on the parlor-floor,
To the pleading voice of the mother when
I even doubted I heard it then--
To the sense of a kiss, and a moonlit room,
And dewy odors of locust-bloom--
A sweet white cot--and a cricket's cheep.--
But no boy knows when he goes to sleep.
[Illustration]
* * * * *
[Illustration: "NO BOY KNOWS WHEN HE GOES TO SLEEP."]
* * * * *
WHEN WE FIRST PLAYED "SHOW"
Wasn't it a good time,
Long Time Ago--
When we all were little tads
And first played "Show"!--
When every newer day
Wore as bright a glow
As the ones we laughed away--
Long Time Ago!
Calf was in the back-lot;
Clover in the red;
Bluebird in the pear-tree;
Pigeons on the shed;
Tom a-chargin' twenty pins
At the barn; and Dan
Spraddled out just like "The
'Injarubber'-Man!"
Me and Bub and Rusty,
Eck and Dunk and Sid,
'Tumblin' on the sawdust
Like the A-rabs did;
Jamesy on the slack-rope
In a wild retreat,
Grappling back, to start again--
When he chalked his feet!
[Illustration]
Wasn't Eck a wonder,
In his stocking-tights?
* * * * *
[Illustration: "JAMESY ON THE SLACK-ROPE."]
* * * * *
Wasn't Dunk--his leaping lion--
Chief of all delights!
Yes, and wasn't "Little Mack"
Boss of all the Show,--
Both Old Clown and Candy-Butcher--
Long Time Ago!
Sid the Bareback-Rider;
And--oh-me-oh-_my_!--
Bub, the spruce Ring-master,
Stepping round so spry!--
In his little waist-and-trousers
All made in one,
Was there a prouder youngster
Under the sun!
And NOW--who will tell me,--
Where are they all?
Dunk's a sanatorium doctor,
Up at Waterfall;
Sid's a city street-contractor;
Tom has fifty clerks;
And Jamesy he's the "Iron Magnate"
Of "The Hecla Works."
And Bub's old and bald now,
Yet still he hangs on,--
Dan and Eck and "Little Mack,"
Long, long gone!
But wasn't it a good time,
Long Time Ago--
When we all were little tads
And first played "Show"!
* * * * *
A DIVERTED TRAGEDY
[Illustration]
Gracie wuz allus a _careless_ tot;
But Gracie dearly loved her doll,
An' played wiv it on the winder-sill
'Way up-stairs, when she ought to _not_,
An' her muvver _telled_ her so an' all;
But she won't _mind_ what _she_ say--till,
First thing she know, her dolly fall
Clean spang out o' the winder plumb
Into the street! An' here Grace come
Down-stairs, two at a time, ist wild
An' a-screamin', "Oh, my child! my child!"
[Illustration]
Jule wuz a-bringin' their basket o' clo'es
Ist then into their hall down there,--
An' she ist stop' when Gracie bawl,
An' Jule she say "She ist declare
She's ist in time!" An' what you s'pose?
She sets her basket down in the hall,
An' wite on top o' the snowy clo'es
Wuz Gracie's dolly a-layin' there
An' ist ain't bu'st ner hurt a-tall!
[Illustration]
Nen Gracie smiled--ist _sobbed_ an' smiled--
An' cried, "My child! my precious child!"
* * * * *
THE RAMBO-TREE
When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree--
It's a long, sweet way across the orchard!--
The bird sings low as the bumble-bee--
It's a long, sweet way across the orchard!--
The poor shote-pig he says, says he:
"When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree
There's enough for you and enough for me."--
It's a long, sweet way across the orchard.
_For just two truant lads like we_,
_When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree_
_There's enough for you and enough for me_--
_It's a long, sweet way across the orchard_.
When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree--
It's a long, sweet way across the orchard!--
The mole digs out to peep and see--
It's a long, sweet way across the orchard!--
The dusk sags down, and the moon swings free,
There's a far, lorn call, "Pig-_gee_! 'Pig-_gee_!"
And two boys--glad enough for three.--
It's a long, sweet way across the orchard.
_For just two truant lads like we_,
_When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree_
_There's enough for you and enough for me_--
_It's a long, sweet way across the orchard_.
* * * * *
[Illustration: "ACROSS THE ORCHARD."]
* * * * *
FIND THE FAVORITE
Our three cats is Maltese cats,
An' they's two that's white,--
An' bofe of 'em's _deef_--an' that's
'Cause their _eyes_ ain't right.--
[Illustration]
Uncle say that _Huxley_ say
Eyes of _white_ Maltese--
When they don't match thataway--
They're deef as you please!
_Girls, they_ like our white cats best,
'Cause they're white as snow,
Yes, an' look the stylishest--
But they're deef, you know!
They don't know their names, an' don't
Hear us when we call
"Come in, Nick an' Finn!"--they won't
Come fer us at all!
But our _other_ cat, _he_ knows
Mister Nick an' Finn,--
Mowg's _his_ name,--an' when _he_ goes
Fer 'em, they come in!
Mowgli's _all_ his name--the same
Me an' Muvver took
Like the Wolf-Child's _other_ name,
In "The Jungul Book."
I bet Mowg's the smartest cat
In the world!--_He's_ not
_White_, but mousy-plush, with that
Smoky gloss he's got!
All's got little bells to ring,
Round their neck; but none
Only Mowg _knows_ anything--
He's the only one!
I ist 'spect sometimes he hate
White cats' stupid ways:--
He won't hardly 'sociate
With 'em, lots o' days!
Mowg wants in where _we_ air,--well,
He'll ist take his paw
An' ist ring an' ring his bell
There till me er Ma
Er _some_body lets him in
Nen an' shuts the door.--
An', when he wants out ag'in,
Nen he'll ring some more.
Ort to hear our Katy tell!
She sleeps 'way up-stairs;
An' last night she hear Mowg's bell
Ringin' round _some_wheres...
Trees grows by her winder.--So,
She lean out an' see
Mowg up there, 'way out, you know,
In the clingstone-tree;--
An'-sir! he ist _hint_ an' _ring_,--
Till she ketch an' plat
Them limbs;--nen he crawl an' spring
In where Katy's at!
[Illustration]
* * * * *
THE BOY PATRIOT
I want to be a Soldier!--
A Soldier!--
A Soldier!--
I want to be a Soldier, with a sabre in my hand
Or a little carbine rifle, or a musket on my shoulder,
Or just a snare-drum, snarling in the middle of the band;
I want to hear, high overhead, The Old Flag flap her wings
While all the Army, following, in chorus cheers and sings;
I want to hear the tramp and jar
Of patriots a million,
As gayly dancing off to war
As dancing a cotillion.
_I want to be a Soldier!_--
_A Soldier!_--
_A Soldier!_--
_I want to be a Soldier, with a sabre in my hand_
_Or a little carbine rifle, or a musket on my shoulder_,
_Or just a snare-drum, snarling in the middle of the band_.
I want to see the battle!--
The battle!--
The battle!--
I want to see the battle, and be in it to the end;--
I want to hear the cannon clear their throats and catch the prattle
Of all the pretty compliments the enemy can send!--
And then I know my wits will go,--and where I _should'nt_ be--
Well, there's the spot, in any fight, that you may search for me.
So, when our foes have had their fill,
Though I'm among the dying,
To see The Old Flag flying still,
I'll laugh to leave her flying!
_I want to be a Soldier!_--
_A Soldier!_--
_A Soldier!_--
_I want to be a Soldier, with a sabre in my hand_
_Or a little carbine rifle, or a musket on my shoulder_,
_Or just a snare-drum, snarling in the middle of the band_.
* * * * *
[Illustration: "WHILE ALL THE ARMY, FOLLOWING, IN CHORUS CHEERS AND
SINGS."]
* * * * *
EXTREMES
[Illustration]
I
A little boy once played so loud
That the Thunder, up in a thunder-cloud,
Said, "Since I can't be heard, why, then
I'll never, never thunder again!"
[Illustration]
II
And a little girl once kept so still
That she heard a fly on the window-sill
Whisper and say to a lady-bird,--
"She's the stilliest child I ever heard!"
* * * * *
INTELLECTUAL LIMITATIONS
Parunts knows lots more than us,
But they don't know _all_ things,--
'Cause we ketch 'em, lots o' times,
Even on little small things.
One time Winnie ask' her Ma,
At the winder, sewin',
What's the wind a-doin' when
It's a-not a-_blowin_'?
Yes, an' 'Del', that very day,
When we're nearly froze out,
He ask' Uncle _where_ it goes
When the fire goes out?
Nen _I_ run to ask my Pa,
That way, somepin' funny;
But I can't say ist but "Say,"
When he turn to me an' say,
"Well, what is it, Honey?"
* * * * *
[Illustration: "WHERE IT GOES WHEN THE FIRE GOES OUT?"]
* * * * *
A MASQUE OF THE SEASONS
Scene.--_A kitchen.--Group of Children, popping corn.--The Fairy Queen
of the Seasons discovered in the smoke of the corn-popper.--Waving her
wand, and, with eerie, sharp, imperious ejaculations, addressing the
bespelled auditors, who neither see nor hear her nor suspect her
presence._
QUEEN
Summer or Winter or Spring or Fall,--
Which do you like the best of all?
LITTLE JASPER
When I'm dressed warm as warm can be,
And with boots, to go
Through the deepest snow,
Winter-time is the time for me!
QUEEN
Summer or Winter or Spring or Fall,--
Which do you like the best of all?
LITTLE MILDRED
I like blossoms, and birds that sing;
The grass and the dew,
And the sunshine, too,--
So, best of all I like the Spring.
QUEEN
Summer or Winter or Spring or Fall,--
Which do you like the best of all?
LITTLE MANDEVILLE
O little friends, I most rejoice
When I hear the drums
As the Circus comes,--
So Summer-time's my special choice.
QUEEN
Summer or Winter or Spring or Fall,--
Which do you like the best of all?
LITTLE EDITH
Apples of ruby, and pears of gold,
And grapes of blue
That the bee stings through.--
Fall--it is all that my heart can hold!
* * * * *
[Illustration: "THE FAIRY QUEEN OF THE SEASONS."]
* * * * *
QUEEN
Soh! my lovelings and pretty dears,
You've _each_ a favorite, it appears,--
Summer and Winter and Spring and Fall.--
That's the reason I send them _all_!
* * * * *
THOMAS THE PRETENDER
Tommy's alluz playin' jokes,
An' actin' up, an' foolin' folks;
An' wunst one time he creep
In Pa's big chair, he did, one night,
An' squint an' shut his eyes bofe tight,
An' say, "Now I 'm asleep."
An' nen we knowed, an' Ma know' too,
He _ain't_ asleep no more 'n you!
[Illustration]
An' wunst he clumbed on our back'fence
An' flop his arms an' nen commence
To crow, like he's a hen;
But when he failed off, like he done,
He didn't fool us childern none,
Ner didn't _crow_ again.
An' our Hired Man, as he come by,
Says, "Tom can't _crow_, but he kin _cry_."
* * * * *
[Illustration: "PORE PA! PORE PA!"]
* * * * *
LITTLE DICK AND THE CLOCK
When Dicky was sick
In the night, and the clock,
As he listened, said "Tick-
Atty--tick-atty--tock!"
He said that _it_ said,
Every time it said "Tick,"
It said "Sick," instead,
And he _heard_ it say "Sick!"
And when it said "Tick-
Atty--tick-atty--tock,"
He said it said "Sick-
Atty--sick-atty--sock!"
And he tried to _see_ then,
But the light was too dim,
Yet he _heard_ it again--
And't was _talking_ to him!
And then it said "Sick-
Atty--sick-atty--sick
You poor little Dick-
Atty--Dick-atty--dock!
Have you got the hick-
Atties? Hi! send for Doc
To hurry up quick
Atty--quick-atty--quock,
And heat a hot brick-
Atty--brick-atty--brock,
[Illustration]
And rikle-ty wrap it
And clickle-ty clap it
Against his cold feet-
Al-ty--weep-aty--eepaty--
_There_ he goes, slapit-
Ty--slippaty--sleepaty!"
* * * * *
FOOL-YOUNGENS
Me an' Bert an' Minnie-Belle
Knows a joke, an' we won't tell!
No, we don't--'cause we don't know
_Why_ we got to laughin' so;
But we got to laughin' so,
"We ist kep' a-laughin'.
Wind wuz blowin' in the tree--
An' wuz only ist us three
Playin' there; an' ever' one
Ketched each other, like we done,
Squintin' up there at the sun
Like we wuz a-laughin'.
Nothin' funny anyway;
But I laughed, an' so did they--
An' we all three laughed, an' nen
Squint' our eyes an' laugh' again:
Ner we didn't ist _p'ten'_--
We wuz _shore-'nough_ laughin'.
* * * * *
[Illustration: "SQUINT' OUR EYES AN' LAUGH' AGAIN"]
* * * * *
"We ist laugh' an' laugh', tel Bert
Say he _can't_ quit an' it hurt.
Nen I _howl_, an' Minnie-Belle
She tear up the grass a spell
An' ist stop her yeers an' _yell_
Like she'd _die_ a-laughin'.
Never sich fool-youngens yit!
Nothin' funny,--not a bit!--
But we laugh' so; tel we whoop'
Purt'-nigh like we have the croup--
All so hoarse we'd wheeze an' whoop
An' ist _choke_ a-laughin'.