Riley Child-Rhymes | Page 6

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 was nobody there.
I Want to, but I'm 'fraid to try?To go back.... An' by-an'-by?Somepin' hurts my throat inside--?An' I want my Ma--an' cried.
Nen a grea'-big girl come through?Where's a gate, an' telled me who?Am I? 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.
[Illustration: An' a grea'-big pig went "Booh!"]
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!
[Illustration: Hug wite close round her neck]
THE LITTLE COAT
Here's his ragged "roundabout";?Turn the pockets inside out:?See; his pen-knife, lost to use,?Rusted shut with apple-juice;?Here, with marbles, top and string,?Is his deadly "devil-sling,"?With its rubber, limp at last?As the sparrows of the past!?Beeswax--buckles--leather straps--?Bullets, and a box of caps,--?Not a thing of all, I guess,?But betrays some waywardness--?E'en these tickets, blue and red,?For the Bible-verses said--?Such as this his mem'ry kept--
"Jesus wept."
[Illustration: The Little Coat]
Here's a fishing hook-and-line,?Tangled up with wire and twine,?And dead angle-worms, and some?Slugs of lead and chewing-gum,?Blent with scents that can but come?From the oil of rhodium.?Here--a soiled, yet dainty note,?That some little sweetheart wrote,?Dotting,--"Vine grows round the stump,"?And--"My sweetest sugar lump!"?Wrapped in this--a padlock key?Where he's filed a touch-hole--see!?And some powder in a quill?Corked up with a liver pill;?And a spongy little chunk
Of "punk."
Here's the little coat--but O!?Where is he we've censured so!?Don't you hear us calling, dear??Back! come back, and never fear.--?You may wander where you will,?Over orchard, field and hill;?You may kill the birds, or do?Anything that pleases you!?Ah, this empty coat of his!?Every tatter worth a kiss;?Every stain as pure instead?As the white stars overhead:?And the pockets--homes were they?Of the little hands that play?Now no more--but, absent, thus
Beckon us.
[Illustration: The Little Coat--Tailpiece]
AN IMPETUOUS RESOLVE
[Illustration: An Impetuous Resolve--Title]
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 _I_ grow a grea'-big man,?I'm go' to be a Baker!
An' Dick'll buy his sailor-suit?O' Hame; and Hame'll take it?An' buy as fine a double-rigg?As ever Bud can make it:?An' nen all three'll drive roun' fer me?An' we'll drive off togevver,?A-slingin' pie-crust 'long the road?Ferever an' ferever!
[Illustration: I'm go' to be a baker]
[Illustration: A-slingin' pie-crust 'long the road]
WHO SANTY-CLAUS WUZ
[Illustration: Who Santy-Claus Wuz--Title]
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!?Lawzy, though! at night, you know, to set around an' hear?The old folks work the story off about the sledge an' deer, An' "Santy" skootin' round the roof, all wrapt in fur an' fuzz-- Long afore
I knowed who
"Santy-Claus" wuz!


Ust to wait, an' set up late, a week er two ahead;?Couldn't hardly keep awake, ner wouldn't go to bed;?Kittle stewin' on the fire, an' Mother settin' here?Darnin' socks, an' rockin' in the skreeky rockin'-cheer;?Pap gap', an' wonder where it wuz the money went,?An' quar'l with his frosted heels, an' spill his liniment;?An' me a-dreamin' sleigh-bells when the clock 'ud whir an' buzz, Long afore
I knowed who
"Santy-Claus" wuz!


Size the fire-place up an' figger how "Ole Santy" could?Manage to come down the chimbly, like they said he would;?Wisht 'at I could hide an' see him--wunderd what he'd say?Ef he ketched a feller layin' fer him thataway!?But I bet_ on him, an' _liked him, same as ef he had?Turned to pat me on the back an' say,