A Christmas Memory

Pa he bringed me here to stay
    'Til my Ma she's well. - An' nen
He's go' hitch up, Chris'mus-day,
    An' come take me back again
Wher' my Ma's at! Won't I be
Tickled when he comes fer me!

My Ma an' my A'nty they
    'Uz each-uvver's sisters. Pa -
A'nty telled me, th' other day, -
    He comed here an' married Ma....
A'nty said nen, "Go run play,
    I must work now!" ... An' I saw,
When she turn' her face away,
    She 'uz cryin'. - An' nen I
    'Tend-like I "run play" - an' cry.

This-here house o' A'nty's wher'
They 'uz borned - my Ma an' her! -
An' her Ma 'uz my Ma's Ma,
An' her Pa 'uz my Ma's Pa -


Ain't that funny? - An' they're dead:
An' this-here's "th' ole Homestead." -
An' my A'nty said, an' cried,
It's mine, too, ef my Ma died -
Don't know what she mean - 'cause my
Ma she's nuvver go' to die!


When Pa bringed me here 't 'uz night -
    'Way dark night! An' A'nty spread
Me a piece - an' light the light
    An' say I must go to bed. -
    I cry not to - -but Pa said,
"Be good boy now, like you telled
    Mommy 'at you're go' to be!"
    An', when he 'uz kissin' me
    My good night, his cheeks' all wet
An' taste salty. - An' he held
    Wite close to me an' rocked some
    An' langhed-like - 'til A'nty come
    Git me while he's rockin' yet.

A'nty he'p me, 'til I be
Purt'-nigh strip-pud - nen hug me
In bofe arms an' lif' me 'way
Up in her high bed - an' pray
    Wiv me, - 'bout my Ma - an' Pa -
An' ole Santy Claus - an' Sleigh -
    An' Reindeers an' little Drum -
    Yes, an' Picture-books, "Tom Thumb,"
An' "Three Bears," an' ole "Fee-Faw" -

    Yes, an' "Tweedle-Dee" an' "Dum,"
    An' "White Knight" an' "Squidjicum,"
An' most things you ever saw! -
    An' when A'nty kissed me, she
    'Uz all cryin' over me!

Don't want Santy Claus - ner things
Any kind he ever brings! -
Don't want A'nty! - Don't want Pa! -
I ist only want my Ma!

James Whitcomb Riley

James Whitcomb Riley was an American writer, poet, and best-selling author. He was known as the "Hoosier Poet" and the "Children's Poet" for his dialect works and children's poetry respectively. Over his career, Riley authored approximately 1,000 poems, including "Little Orphant Annie" and "The Raggedy Man". His influence extended into the 20th century, and his works continued to be celebrated for their nostalgic and rural themes.

James Whitcomb Riley

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Say Something To Me

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Tommy Smith

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

English

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Long Afore He Knowed Who Santy-Claus Wuz.

Jes' a little bit o' feller - I remember still, -
Ust to almost cry far 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" wuz!

Ust to wait, and set up late, a week er 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 went,
And quar'...

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A Dubious "Old Kriss"

Us-folks is purty pore - but Ma
She's waitin' - two years more - tel Pa
He serve his term out. Our Pa he -
He's in the Penitenchurrie!

Now don't you never 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!

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.

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 - ye...

James Whitcomb Riley

Who Santy-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!
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 ...

James Whitcomb Riley

John Alden And Percilly.

    We got up a Christmas-doin's
        Last Christmas Eve -
    Kindo' 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 Clause" -
    So 's to git the old folks
        To patternize, you see,
    And back the institootion up
        Kindo' morally.

    Schoolteacher writ the thing -
        (Was a friend o' mine),
    Got it out o' Longfeller's
        Pome "Evangeline" -
    Er some'rs - 'bout the Purituns - .
        Anyway, the part
    "...

James Whitcomb Riley

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! -
The house was small - but plenty-big we found it from the day
That John - our only livin' son - packed up and went way.

You see, we tuck sich pride in John - his mother more 'n me -
That's natchurul; but both of us was proud as proud could be;
Fer the boy, from a little chap, was most oncommon bright,
And seemed in work as well as play to take the same delight.
...
James Whitcomb Riley

Them Old Cheery Words
Pap he allus ust to say,
"Chris'mus comes but onc't a year!"
Liked to hear him that-a-way,
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!"

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 'u'd say, and tilt his cheer, -
"Chris'mus comes but onc't a year!"

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...
James Whitcomb Riley