The Boys' Candidate

Las' time 'at Uncle Sidney come,
He bringed a watermelon home -
    An' half the boys in town,
Come taggin' after him. - An' he
Says, when we et it, - "Gracious me!
    'S the boy-house fell down?"

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

The Blossoms On The Trees.

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

A Southern Singer.

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Honey Dripping From The Comb

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

The Quiet Lodger.

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

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

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

The Old Hay-Mow

The Old Hay-mow's the place to play
Fer boys, when it's a rainy day!
I good-'eal ruther be up there
Than down in town, er anywhere!

When I play in our stable-loft,
The good old hay's so dry an' soft,
An' feels so fine, an' smells so sweet,
I 'most ferget to go an' eat.

An' one time wunst I did ferget
To go 'tel dinner was all et, -
An' they had short-cake - an' - Bud he
Hogged up the piece Ma saved fer me!

Nen I won't let him play no more
In our hay-mow where I keep store
An' got hen-eggs to sell, - an' shoo
The cackle-un old hen out, too!

An' nen, when Aunty she was here
A-visitun from Rensselaer,
An' bringed my little cousin, - he
Can come up there an' play with me.

But, after while - when Bud h...

James Whitcomb Riley

The Boys

Where are they? - the friends of my childhood enchanted -
The clear, laughing eyes looking back in my own,
And the warm, chubby fingers my palms have so wanted,
As when we raced over
    Pink pastures of clover,
And mocked the quail's whir and the bumblebee's drone?

Have the breezes of time blown their blossomy faces
Forever adrift down the years that are flown?
Am I never to see them romp back to their places,
Where over the meadow,
    In sunshine and shadow,
The meadow-larks trill, and the bumblebees drone?

Where are they? Ah! dim in the dust lies the clover;
The whippoorwill's call has a sorrowful tone,
And the dove's - I have wept at it over and over; -
I want the glad luster
    Of youth, and the cluster
Of faces asleep where the bumbleb...

James Whitcomb Riley

A Session With Uncle Sidney - IV - And Makes Nursery Rhymes - 3 The Gathering Of The Clans

[Voice from behind high board-fence.]



"Where's the crowd that dares to go
Where I dare to lead? - you know!"



"Well, here's one!"
Shouts Ezry Dunn.



"Count me two!"
Yells Cootsy Drew.



"Here's yer three!"
Sings Babe Magee.



"Score me four!"
Roars Leech-hole Moore.



"Tally - five!"
Howls Jamesy Clive.



"I make six!"
Chirps Herbert Dix.



"Punctchul! - seven!"
Pipes Runt Replevin.



"Mark me eight!"
Grunts Mealbag Nate.



"I'm yet nine!"
Growls "Lud'rick" Stein.



"Hi! here's ten!"...

James Whitcomb Riley

The Boy Lives On Our Farm

The boy lives on our Farm, he's not
Afeard o' horses none!
An' he can make 'em lope, er trot,
Er rack, er pace, er run.
Sometimes he drives two horses, when
He comes to town an' brings
A wagon-full o' 'taters nen,
An' roastin'-ears an' things.

Two horses is "a team," he says,
An' when you drive er hitch,
The right-un's a "near-horse," I guess
Er "off" - I don't know which -
The Boy lives on our Farm, he told
Me, too, 'at he can see,
By lookin' at their teeth, how old
A horse is, to a T!

I'd be the gladdest boy alive
Ef I knowed much as that,
An' could stand up like him an' drive,
An' ist push back my hat,
Like he comes skallyhootin' through
Our alley, with one arm
A-wavin' Fare-ye-well! to you -
The Boy lives on o...

James Whitcomb Riley