Riley Child-Rhymes with Hoosier Pictures: Indiana Bicentennial Edition
200
Riley Child-Rhymes with Hoosier Pictures: Indiana Bicentennial Edition
200eBook
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Overview
A must-have for Riley enthusiasts everywhere, this classic book has been faithfully reproduced for Indiana's state bicentennial. Now with an introduction by lifelong Riley enthusiast and former Indiana Poet Laureate Norbert Krapf, this charming book contains 39 of James Whitcomb Riley's signature poems, including "Old Aunt Mary's," "Little Orphant Annie," and "The Raggedy Man." Graced by noted Brown County artist Will Vawter's illustrations of such poems as "The Nine Goblins," "The Circus Day Parade," and "Barefoot, Hungry, Lean Ornery Boys," this book offers a look at how childhood was lived a century ago. First produced in 1890, Riley Child-Rhymes with Hoosier Pictures recalls simpler times gone by.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780253023278 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Indiana University Press |
| Publication date: | 04/04/2016 |
| Series: | Library of Indiana Classics |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 200 |
| File size: | 8 MB |
| Age Range: | 13 - 12 Years |
About the Author
James Whitcomb Riley (1849–1916) was a best-selling American writer and poet. Known as "the Children's Poet," he is author of several collections, including The Old Swimmin' Hole, Pipes o' Pan at Zekesbury, and Home Folks.
Will Vawter (1871–1941) was an artist, illustrator, and frequent collaborator with James Whitcomb Riley.
Norbert Krapf, Indiana Poet Laureate (2008–2010), is Emeritus Professor of English at Long Island University. He is author of Catholic Boy Blues: A Poet's Journal of Healing, American Dreams: Reveries and Revisitations, and Songs in Sepia and Black and White (IUP, 2012).
Read an Excerpt
Riley Child-Rhymes with Hoosier Pictures
By James Whitcomb Riley
Indiana University Press
Copyright © 2016 Norbert KrapfAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-253-02327-8
CHAPTER 1
AT AUNTY'S HOUSE
One time, when we'z at Aunty's house —
'Way in the country! — where
They's ist but woods — an' pigs, an' cows —
An' all's out-doors an' air! —
An' orchurd-swing; an' churry-trees —
An' churriesin 'em! — Yes, an' theseHere
red-head birds steals all they please,
An' tetch 'em ef you dare! —
W'y, wunst, one time, when we wuz there,
We et out on the porch!
Wite where the cellar-door wuz shut
The table wuz; an' I
Let Aunty set by me an' cut
My vittuls up — an' pie.
'Tuz awful funny! — I could see
The red-heads in the churry-tree;
An' bee-hives, where you got to be
So keerful, goin' by; —
An' "Comp'ny" there an' all! — an' we —
We et out on the porch!
An' I ist et p'survesan' things
'At Ma don't 'low me to —
An' chickun-gizzurds — (don't like wings
Like Paruntsdoes! do you?)
An' all the time, the wind blowed there,
An' I could feel it in my hair,
An' ist smell clover ever'where! —
An' a' old red-head flew
Purt' nigh wite over my high-chair,
When we et on the porch!
THE DAYS GONE BY
O THE days gone by! O the days gone by!
The apples in the orchard, and the pathway through the rye;
The chirrup of the robin, and the whistle of the quail
As he piped across the meadows sweet as any nightingale;
When the bloom was on the clover, and the blue was in the sky,
And my happy heart brimmed over, in the days gone by.
In the days gone by, when my naked feet were tripped
By the honeysuckle tangles where the water-lilies dipped,
And the ripples of the river lipped the moss along the brink,
Where the placid-eyed and lazy-footed cattle came to drink,
And the tilting snipe stood fearless of the truant's wayward cry
And the splashing of the swimmer, in the days gone by.
O the days gone by! O the days gone by!
The music of the laughing lip, the lustre of the eye;
The childish faith in fairies, and Aladdin's magic ring —
The simple, soul-reposing, glad belief in everything, —
When life was like a story, holding neither sob nor sigh,
In the golden olden glory of the days gone by.
THE BUMBLEBEE
YOU better not fool with a Bumblebee! —
Ef you don't think they can sting — you'll see!
They're lazy to look at, an' kindo' go
Buzzin' an' bummin' aroun' so slow,
An' ac' so slouchy an' all fagged out,
Danglin' their legs as they drone about
The hollyhawks 'at they can't climb in
'Ithout ist a-tumble-un out agin!
Wunst I watched one climb clean 'way
In a jim'son-blossom, I did, one day, —
An' I ist grabbed it — an' nen let go —
An' "Ooh-ooh! Honey! I told ye so!"
Says The Raggedy Man; an' he ist run
An' pullt out the stinger, an' don't laugh none,
An' says: "They hasben folks, I guess,
'At thought I wuz predjudust, more er less, —
Yit I still muntain 'at a Bumblebee
Wears out his welcome too quick fer me!"
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 our Farm!
The Squirtgun Uncle Maked Me
UNCLE Sidney, when he wuz here,
Maked me a squirtgun out o' some
Elder-bushes 'at growed out near
Where wuz the brickyard —'way out clear
To where the toll-gate come!
So when we walked back home again,
He maked it, out in our woodhouse where
Wuz the old workbench, an' the old jack-plane,
An' the old 'pokeshave, an' the tools all lay'n'
Ist like he wants 'em there.
He sawed it first with the old hand-saw;
An' nen he peeled off the bark, an' got
Some glass an' scraped it; an' told 'bout Pa,
When hewuz a boy an' fooled his Ma,
An' the whippin' 'at he caught.
Nen Uncle Sidney, he took an' filed
A' old arn ramrod; an' one o' the ends
He screwed fast into the vise; an' smiled,
Thinkin', he said, o' when he wuz a child,
'Fore him an' Pa wuz mens.
He punched out the peth, an' nen he put
A plug in the end with a hole notched through;
Nen took the old drawey-knife an' cut
An' maked a handle 'at shoved clean shut
But ist where yer hand held to.
An' he wropt th'uther end with some string an' white
Piece o' the sleeve of a' old tored shirt;
An' nen he showed me to hold it tight,
An' suck in the water an' work it right
An' it 'ud ist squirt an' squirt!
The Old Tramp
OLD Tramp slep' in our stable
wunst,
An' The Raggedy Man he caught
An' roust him up, an' chased him off
Clean out through our back lot!
An' th' Old Tramp hollered back an' said, —
"You're a purtyman! — Youair! —
With a pair o' eyes like two fried eggs,
An' a nose like a Bartlutt pear!"
OLD AUNT MARY'S
WAS N'T it pleasant, O brother mine,
In those old days of the lost sunshine
Of youth — when the Saturday's chores were through,
And the "Sunday's wood" in the kitchen, too,
And we went visiting, "me and you,"
Out to Old Aunt Mary's?
It all comes back so clear to-day!
Though I am as bald as you are gray —
Out by the barn-lot, and down the lane,
We patter along in the dust again,
As light as the tips of the drops of the rain,
Out to Old Aunt Mary's!
We cross the pasture, and through the wood
Where the old gray snag of the poplar stood,
Where the hammering "red-heads" hopped awry,
And the buzzard "raised" in the "clearing" sky
And lolled and circled, as we went by
Out to Old Aunt Mary's.
And then in the dust of the road again;
And the teams we met, and the countrymen;
old aunt maRy's
And the long highway, with sunshine spread
As thick as butter on country bread,
Our cares behind, and our hearts ahead
Out to Old Aunt Mary's.
Why, I see her now in the open door,
Where the little gourds grew up the sides and o'er
The clapboard roof! — And her face — ah, me!
Wasn't it good for a boy to see —
And wasn't it good for a boy to be
Out to Old Aunt Mary's?
And O my brother, so far away,
This is to tell you she waits to-day
To welcome us: — Aunt Mary fell
Asleep this morning, whispering, "Tell
The boys to come!" And all is well
Out to Old Aunt Mary's.
Winter Fancies
I
WINTER without
And warmth within;
The winds may shout
And the storm begin;
The snows may pack
At the window pane,
And the skies grow black,
And the sun remain
Hidden away
The livelong day —
But here — in here is the warmth of May!
II
Swoop your spitefullest
Up the flue,
Wild Winds — do!
What in the world do I care for you?
O delightfullest
Weather of all,
Howl and squall,
And shake the trees till the last leaves fall!
III
The joy one feels,
In an easy chair,
Cocking his heels
In the dancing air
That wreathes the rim of a roaring stove
Whose heat loves better than hearts can love,
Will not permit
The coldest day
To drive away
The fire in his blood, and the bliss of it!
IV
Then blow, Winds, blow!
And rave and shriek,
And snarl and snow
Till your breath grows weak —
While here in my room
I 'm as snugly shut
As a glad little worm
In the heart of a nut!
THE RUNAWAY BOY
WUNST I sassed my Pa, an' he
Won't stand that, an' punished me, —
Nen when he was gone that day,
I slipped out an' runned away.
I tooked all my copper-cents,
An' clumbed over our back fence
In the jimpson-weeds 'at growed
Ever'where all down the road.
Nen I got out there, an' nen
I runned some — an' runned again
When I met a man 'at led
A big cow 'at shooked her head.
I went down a long, long lane
Where was little pigs a-play'n';
An' a grea'-big pig went "Booh!"
An' jumped up, an' skeered me too.
Nen I scampered past, an' they
Was somebody hollered "Hey!"
An' I ist looked ever'where,
An' they was nobody there.
I Want to, but I'm 'fraid to try
To go back. ... An' by-an'-by
Somepin' hurts my throat inside —
An' I want my Ma — an' cried.
Nen a grea'-big girl come through
Where's a gate, an' telled me who
Am I? an' ef I tell where
My home's at she'll show me there.
But I couldn't ist but tell
What's my name;an' she says well,
An' she tooked me up an' says
She know where I live, she guess.
Nen she telled me hug wite close
Round her neck! — an' off she goes
Skippin' up the street! An' nen
Purty soon I 'm home again.
An' my Ma, when she kissed me,
Kissed the big girl too, an' she
Kissed me — ef I p'omise shore
I won't run away no more!
THE LITTLE COAT
HERE'S his ragged "roundabout"
Turn the pockets inside out:
See; his pen-knife, lost to use,
Rusted shut with apple-juice;
Here, with marbles, top and string,
Is his deadly "devil-sling,"
With its rubber, limp at last
As the sparrows of the past!
Beeswax — buckles — leather straps —
Bullets, and a box of caps, —
Not a thing of all, I guess,
But betrays some waywardness —
E'en these tickets, blue and red,
For the Bible-verses said —
Such as this his mem'ry kept —
"Jesus wept."
Here's a fishing hook-and-line,
Tangled up with wire and twine,
And dead angle-worms, and some
Slugs of lead and chewing-gum,
Blent with scents that can but come
From the oil of rhodium.
Here — a soiled, yet dainty note,
That some little sweetheart wrote,
Dotting, — "Vine grows round the stump,"
And — "My sweetest sugar lump!"
Wrapped in this — a padlock key
Where he's filed a touch-hole — see!
And some powder in a quill
Corked up with a liver pill;
And a spongy little chunk
Of "punk."
Here's the little coat — but O!
Where is he we've censured so!
Don't you hear us calling, dear?
Back! come back, and never fear. —
You may wander where you will,
Over orchard, field and hill;
You may kill the birds, or do
Anything that pleases you!
Ah, this empty coat of his!
Every tatter worth a kiss;
Every stain as pure instead
As the white stars overhead:
And the pockets — homes were they
Of the little hands that play
Now no more — but, absent, thus
Beckon us.
AN IMPETUOUS RESOLVE
WHEN little Dickie Swope's a man,
He's go' to be a Sailor;
An' little Hamey Tincher, he's
A-go' to be a Tailor:
Bud Mitchell, he's a-go' to be
A stylish Carriage-Maker;
An' when Igrow a grea'-big man,
I'm go' to be a Baker!
An' Dick'll buy his sailor-suit
O' Hame; and Hame'll take it
An' buy as fine a double-rigg
As ever Bud can make it:
An' nen all three'll drive roun' fer me
An' we'll drive off togevver,
A-slingin' pie-crust 'long the road
Ferever an' ferever!
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 with his frosted heels, an' spill his liniment;
An' me a-dreamin' sleigh-bells when the clock 'ud whir
an' buzz,
Long afore
I knowed who
"Santy-Claus" wuz!
Size the fire-place up an' figger how "Ole Santy" could
Manage to come down the chimbly, like they said he
would;
Wisht 'at I could hide an' see him — wunderd what he'd
say
Ef he ketched a feller layin' fer him thataway!
But I beton him, an' likedhim, same as ef he had
Turned to pat me on the back an' say, "Look here, my
lad,
Here's my pack, — jes' he'p yourse'f, like all good boys
does!"
Long afore
I knowed who
"Santy-Claus" wuz!
Wisht that yarn was true about him, as it 'peared to be —
Truth made out o' lies like that-un's good enough fer
me! —
Wisht I still wuz so confidin' I could jes' go wild
Over hangin' up my stockin's, like the little child
Climbin' in my lap to-night, an' beggin' me to tell
'Bout them reindeers, and "Old Santy" that she loves so
well
I'm half sorry fer this little-girl-sweetheart of his —
Long afore
She knows who
"Santy-Claus" is!
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Riley Child-Rhymes with Hoosier Pictures by James Whitcomb Riley. Copyright © 2016 Norbert Krapf. Excerpted by permission of Indiana University Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
At Aunty's House
Bear Story, The
Boy Lives on Our Farm, The
Boys' Candidate, The
Bumblebee, The
Circus-Day Parade, The
Curly Locks
Days Gone By, The
Down Around the River
Envoy
Funny Little Fellow, The
Grandfather Squeers
Happy Little Cripple, The
Home-Made Fairy-Tale, A
Impetuous Resolve, An
Jolly Miller, The
Life-Lesson, A
Little Coat, The
Little Orphant Annie
Lugubrious Whing-Whang, The
Naughty Claude
Nine Little Goblins, The
Old Aunt Mary's
Old Hay-Mow, The
Old Tramp, The
One the Sunny Side
Our Hired Girl
Pet Coon, The
Pixy People, The
Raggedy Man, The
Rider of the Knee, The
Runaway Boy, The
South Wind and the Sun, The
Squirtgun Uncle Maked Me, The
Sudden Shower, A
Time of Clearer Twitterings
Waitin' fer the Cat to Die
Who Santy-Claus Wuz
Winter Fancies