The Raggedy Man

O The Raggedy Man! He works fer Pa;
An' he's the goodest man ever you saw!
He comes to our house every day,
An' waters the horses, an' feeds 'em hay;
An' he opens the shed - an' we all ist laugh
When he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf;
An' nen - ef our hired girl says he can -
He milks the cow fer 'Lizabuth Ann. -
Aint he a' awful good Raggedy Man?
    Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

W'y, The Raggedy Man - he's ist so good
He splits the kindlin' an' chops the wood;
An' nen he spades in our garden, too,
An' does most things 'at boys can't do! -
He clumbed clean up in our big tree
An' shooked a' apple down fer me -
An' nother'n', too, fer 'Lizabuth Ann -
An' nother'n', too, fer The Raggedy Man. -
Aint he a' awful kind Raggedy Man?
    Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

An' The Raggedy Man, he knows most rhymes
An' tells 'em, ef I be good, sometimes:
Knows 'bout Giunts, an' Griffuns, an' Elves,
An' the Squidgicum-Squees 'at swallers therselves!
An', wite by the pump in our pasture-lot,
He showed me the hole 'at the Wunks is got,
'At lives 'way deep in the ground, an' can
Turn into me, er 'Lizabuth Ann!
Aint he a funny old Raggedy Man?
    Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

The Raggedy Man - one time when he
Wuz makin' a little bow-'n'-orry fer me,
Says "When you're big like your Pa is,
Air you go' to keep a fine store like his -
An' be a rich merchunt - an' wear fine clothes? -
Er what air you go' to be, goodness knows!"
An' nen he laughed at 'Lizabuth Ann,
An' I says "'M go' to be a Raggedy Man! -
I'm ist go' to be a nice Raggedy Man!"
    Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

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 Funny Little Fellow

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Grant. At Rest - August 8, 1885

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Dream-March

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Regardin' Terry Hut

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

English

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Grandfather Squeers

"My grandfather Squeers," said The Raggedy Man,
As he solemnly lighted his pipe and began -

"The most indestructible man, for his years,
And the grandest on earth, was my grandfather Squeers!

"He said, when he rounded his three-score-and-ten,
'I've the hang of it now and can do it again!'

"He had frozen his heels so repeatedly, he
Could tell by them just what the weather would be;

"And would laugh and declare, 'while the Almanac would
Most falsely prognosticate, he never could!'

"Such a hale constitution had grandfather Squeers
That, 'though he'd used 'navy' for sixty odd years,

"He still chewed a dime's-worth six days of the week,
While the seventh he passed with a chew in each cheek:

"Then my grandfather S...

James Whitcomb Riley

Little Orphant Annie

Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;
An' all us other childern, when the supper things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about,
An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you
    Ef you
    Don't
        Watch
        Out!

Onc't they was a little boy wouldn't say his prayers,
An' when he went to bed at night, away up stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wasn't there at all!
An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an'...

James Whitcomb Riley

Our Hired Girl

Our hired girl, she's 'Lizabuth Ann;
An' she can cook best things to eat!
She ist puts dough in our pie-pan,
An' pours in somepin' 'at's good and sweet,
An' nen she salts it all on top
With cinnamon; an' nen she'll stop
An' stoop an' slide it, ist as slow,
In th' old cook-stove, so's 'twon't slop
An' git all spilled; nen bakes it, so
It's custard pie, first thing you know!
    An' nen she'll say:
"Clear out o' my way!
They's time fer work, an' time fer play! -
    Take yer dough, an' run, Child; run!
    Er I cain't git no cookin' done!"

When our hired girl 'tends like she's mad,
An' says folks got to walk the chalk
When she's around, er wisht they had,
I play out on our porch an' talk
To th' Raggedy Man 'at mows our lawn;
An' ...

James Whitcomb Riley

The Good, Old-Fashioned People

When we hear Uncle Sidney tell
    About the long-ago
An' old, old friends he loved so well
    When he was young - My-oh! -
Us childern all wish we'd 'a' bin
    A-livin' then with Uncle, - so
We could a-kindo' happened in
    On them old friends he used to know! -
    The good, old-fashioned people -
    The hale, hard-working people -
    The kindly country people
        'At Uncle used to know!

They was God's people, Uncle says,
    An' gloried in His name,
An' worked, without no selfishness,
    An' loved their neighbers same
As they was kin: An' when they biled
    Their tree-molasses, in the Spring,
Er butchered in the Fall, they smiled
    An' sheered with all jist ever'thing! -


    The good, old-fash...

James Whitcomb Riley

The Happy Little Cripple

I'm thist a little cripple boy, an' never goin' to grow
An' get a great big man at all! - 'cause Aunty told me so.
When I was thist a baby onc't, I falled out of the bed
An' got "The Curv'ture of the Spine" - 'at's what the Doctor said.
I never had no Mother nen - fer my Pa runned away
An' dassn't come back here no more - 'cause he was drunk one day
An' stobbed a man in thish-ere town, an' couldn't pay his fine!
An' nen my Ma she died - an' I got "Curv'ture of the Spine!"

I'm nine years old! An' you can't guess how much I weigh, I bet! -
Last birthday I weighed thirty-three! - An' I weigh thirty yet!
I'm awful little fer my size - I'm purt' nigh littler 'nan
Some babies is! - an' neighbers all calls me "The Little Man!"
An' Doc one time he laughed an' said: "I 'spect, first...

James Whitcomb Riley

The Lugubrious Whing-Whang

The rhyme o' The Raggedy Man's 'at's best
Is Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs, -
'Cause that-un's the strangest of all o' the rest,
An' the worst to learn, an' the last one guessed,
An' the funniest one, an' the foolishest. -
Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs!

I don't know what in the world it means -
Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs! -
An' nen when I tell him I don't, he leans
Like he was a-grindin' on some machines
An' says: Ef I don't, w'y, I don't know beans!
Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs! -

Out on the margin of Moonshine Land,
Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs!
Out where the Whing-Whang loves to stand,
Writing his name with his tail in the sand,
And swiping it out with his oogerish hand;...

James Whitcomb Riley