That Little Dog

"That little dog 'ud scratch at that door
And go on a-whinin' two hours before
He'd ever let up! There! - Jane: Let him in. -
(Hah, there, you little rat!) Look at him grin!
                Come down off o' that! -
                W'y, look at him! (Drat
You! you-rascal-you!) - bring me that hat!
Look out! - He'll snap you! - He wouldn't let
You take it away from him, now you kin bet!
That little rascal's jist natchurly mean. -
I tell you, I never (Git out!! ) never seen
A spunkier little rip! (Scratch to git in,
And now yer a-scratchin' to git out agin!
Jane: Let him out!) Now, watch him from here
Out through the winder! - You notice one ear
Kindo' in side-out, like he holds it? - Well,
He's got a tick in it - I kin tell!
                Yes, and he's cunnin' -
                Jist watch him a-runnin',
Sidelin' - see! - like he ain't 'plum'd true'
And legs don't 'track' as they'd ort to do: -
Plowin' his nose through the weeds - I jing!
Ain't he jist cuter'n anything!

"W'y, that little dog's got grown-people's sense! -
See how he gits out under the fence? -
And watch him a-whettin' his hind-legs 'fore
His dead square run of a miled er more -
'Cause Noey's a-comin', and Trip allus knows
When Noey's a-comin' - and off he goes! -
Putts out to meet him and - There they come now!
Well-sir! it's raially singalar how
                That dog kin tell, -
                But he knows as well
When Noey's a-comin' home! - Reckon his smell
'Ud carry two miled? - You needn't to smile -
He runs to meet him, ever'-once-n-a-while,
Two miled and over - when he's slipped away
And left him at home here, as he's done to-day -
'Thout ever knowin' where Noey wuz goin' -
But that little dog allus hits the right way!
Hear him a-whinin' and scratchin' agin? -
(Little tormentin' fice!) Jane: Let him in.

                " - You say he ain't there? -
                Well now, I declare! -
Lem me limp out and look! ... I wunder where -
Heuh, Trip! - Heuh, Trip! - Heuh, Trip!... There -
There he is! - Little sneak! - What-a'-you-'bout? -
There he is - quiled up as meek as a mouse,
His tail turnt up like a teakittle-spout,
A-sunnin' hisse'f at the side o' the house!
Next time you scratch, sir, you'll haf to git in,
My fine little feller, the best way you kin!
- Noey he learns him sich capers! - And they -
Both of 'em's ornrier every day! -
Both tantalizin' and meaner'n sin -
Allus a - (Listen there!) - Jane: Let him in.

" - O! yer so innocent! hangin' yer head! -
(Drat ye! you'd better git under the bed!)
                - Listen at that! -
                He's tackled the cat! -
Hah, there! you little rip! come out o' that! -
Git yer blame little eyes scratched out
'Fore you know what yer talkin' about! -
Here! come away from there! - (Let him alone -
He'll snap you, I tell ye, as quick as a bone!)
Hi, Trip! - Hey, here! - What-a'-you-'bout! -
Oo! ouch! 'Ll I'll be blamed! - Blast ye! GIT OUT!
... O, it ain't nothin' - jist scratched me, you see. -
Hadn't no idy he'd try to bite me!
Plague take him! - Bet he'll not try that agin! -
Hear him yelp. - (Pore feller!) Jane: Let him in."

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

A Fantasy

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Man's Devotion

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Jack The Giant Killer.

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

The Raggedy Man

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

English

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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 anymore, nen little boys
'U'd ist sleep when they go to sleep an' wont
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 its all Summertime,
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' aint no fweeze - ner cold - ner snow!...

James Whitcomb Riley

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
Ist one piece o' red cardinal 'at 's like
The drate-long stockin's the store-keepers has. -
O! 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
...

James Whitcomb Riley

A Bear Family

Wunst, '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, -
Ist Miz Bear, the neighbers call
'Em, an' Mister Bear - 'at's all.
Yes - an' Miz Bear scold him, too,
Ist like grown folks shouldn't do!


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, fishin', '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 ...

James Whitcomb Riley

The Pet Coon

Noey Bixler ketched him, and 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.
Nen 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 feller'd stay in there and won't come out fer you -
'Tendin' like he's kindo' skeered o' boys 'at lives in town.

Now he aint afeard 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

James Whitcomb Riley

Romancin'

I' b'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 ust to know
When we swore our first "dog-gone-it" sorto' solum-like and low!

You git my idy, do you? - LITTLE tads, you understand -
Jest a-wishin' thue and thue you that you on'y wuz a MAN. -
Yit here I am, this minit, even sixty, to a day,
And fergittin' all that's in it, wishm' jest the other way!

I hain't no hand to lectur' on the times, er dimonstrate
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 onhook the swingle-tree,
Whare the haze...

James Whitcomb Riley

Noey's Night-Piece

"They ain't much 'tale' about it!" Noey said. -
"K'tawby grapes wuz gittin' good-n-red
I rickollect; and Tubb Kingry and me
'Ud kindo' browse round town, daytime, to see
What neighbers 'peared to have the most to spare
'At wuz git-at-able and no dog there
When we come round to git 'em, say 'bout ten
O'clock at night when mostly old folks then
Wuz snorin' at each other like they yit
Helt some old grudge 'at never slep' a bit.
Well, at the Pars'nige - ef ye'll call to mind, -
They's 'bout the biggest grape-arber you'll find
'Most anywheres. - And mostly there, we knowed
They wuz k'tawbies thick as ever growed -
And more'n they'd p'serve. - Besides I've heerd
Ma say k'tawby-grape-p'serves jes 'peared
A waste o' sugar, anyhow! - And so
My...

James Whitcomb Riley