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.

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 resk!

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 fer 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!"

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

Cousin Rufus' Story

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

The Rainy Morning

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Her Beautiful Hands

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Griggsby's Station

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

English

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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.
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 sleep...

James Whitcomb Riley

Johnson's Boy

The world is turned ag'in' me,
    And people says, "They guess
That nothin' else is in me
    But pure maliciousness!"
I git the blame for doin'
    What other chaps destroy,
And I'm a-goin' to ruin
    Because I'm "Johnson's boy."

THAT ain't my name - I'd ruther
    They'd call me IKE or PAT -
But they've forgot the other -
    And so have I, for that!
I reckon it's as handy,
    When Nibsy breaks his toy,
Or some one steals his candy,
    To say 'twas "JOHNSON'S BOY!"

You can't git any water
    At the pump, and find the spout
So durn chuck-full o' mortar
    That you have to bore it out;
You tackle any scholar
    In Wisdom's wise employ,
And I'll bet you half a dollar
    He'll say it's "Johnson's boy!...

James Whitcomb Riley

Joney

Had a hare-lip - 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!

Hare-lip and inpediment,
Both wuz bad, and both ag'in' him -
But the old folks where he went,
'Preared like, knowin' his intent,
'Scused his mouth fer what wuz in h...

James Whitcomb Riley

The Little Fat Doctor.

    He seemed so strange to me, every way -
        In manner, and form, and size,
    From the boy I knew but yesterday, -
        I could hardly believe my eyes!

    To hear his name called over there,
        My memory thrilled with glee
    And leaped to picture him young and fair
        In youth, as he used to be.

    But looking, only as glad eyes can,
        For the boy I knew of yore,
    I smiled on a portly little man
        I had never seen before! -

    Grave as a judge in courtliness -
        Professor-like and bland -
    A little fat doctor and nothing less,
        With his hat in his kimboed hand.

    But how we talked old times, and "chaffed"
        Each other with "Minnie" and "Jim" - -
    And how the ...

James Whitcomb Riley

Elmer Brown

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!"

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!"

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-bye in the hall,
An' latch the gate an' start away,
He holler out to her an' say, -
    "Here's th...

James Whitcomb Riley

Wash Lowry's Reminiscence

And you're the poet of this concern?
    I've seed your name in print
A dozen times, but I'll be dern
    I'd 'a' never 'a' took the hint
O' the size you are - fer I'd pictured you
    A kind of a tallish man -
Dark-complected and sallor too,
    And on the consumpted plan.

'Stid o' that you're little and small,
    With a milk-and-water face -
'Thout no snap in your eyes at all,
    Er nothin' to suit the case!
Kind o'look like a - I don't know -
    One o' these fair-ground chaps
That runs a thingamajig to blow,
    Er a candy-stand perhaps.

'Ll I've allus thought that poetry
    Was a sort of a - some disease -
Fer I knowed a poet once, and he
    Was techy and hard to please,
And moody-like, and kindo' sad
    And didn'...

James Whitcomb Riley