By James Whitcomb Riley

Copyright 1890, 1896, 1898 and 1905

WITH HALE AFFECTION AND ABIDING FAITH

THESE RHYMES AND PICTURES

ARE INSCRIBED

TO THE CHILDREN EVERYWHERE

He owns the bird-songs of the hills— The laughter of the April rills; And his are all the diamonds set In Morning's dewy coronet,— And his the Dusk's first minted stars That twinkle through the pasture-bars And litter all the skies at night With glittering scraps of silver light;— The rainbow's bar, from rim to rim, In beaten gold, belongs to him.

[Note from the transcriber: The Table of Contents below was taken from the book and is an ALPHABETICAL LIST of the poems.] 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 ON 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

LINKED CONTENTS

RILEY CHILD-RHYMES

LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE

THE RAGGEDY MAN

CURLY LOCKS

THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW

THE HAPPY LITTLE CRIPPLE

THE RIDER OF THE KNEE

DOWN AROUND THE RIVER

AT AUNTY'S HOUSE

THE DAYS GONE BY

THE BUMBLEBEE

THE BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM

THE SQUIRTGUN UNCLE MAKED ME

THE OLD TRAMP

OLD AUNT MARY'S

WINTER FANCIES

THE RUNAWAY BOY

THE LITTLE COAT

AN IMPETUOUS RESOLVE

WHO SANTY-CLAUS WUZ

THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS

TIME OF CLEARER TWITTERINGS

THE CIRCUS-DAY PARADE

THE LUGUBRIOUS WHING-WHANG

WAITIN' FER THE CAT TO DIE

NAUGHTY CLAUDE

THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN

THE JOLLY MILLER

OUR HIRED GIRL

THE BOYS' CANDIDATE

THE PET COON

THE OLD HAY-MOW

ON THE SUNNY SIDE

A SUDDEN SHOWER

GRANDFATHER SQUEERS

THE PIXY PEOPLE

A LIFE-LESSON

A HOME-MADE FAIRY-TALE

THE BEAR STORY

ENVOY

LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE

[Unavailable image: They was two great big black things a-standin' by her side] 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,— So 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' cubby-hole, an' press, An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'wheres, I guess; But all they ever found was thist his pants an' roundabout:— An' the Gobble-uns'll git you Ef you Don't Watch Out! [Unavailable image: An' when they turn't the kivvers down]

An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin, An' make fun of ever'one, an' all her blood an' kin; An' onc't, when they was "company," an' ole folks was there, She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care! An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide, They was two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side, An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about! An' the Gobble-uns'll git you Ef you Don't Watch Out! An' little Orphant Annie says when the blaze is blue, An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo! An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray, An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away,— You better mind yer parents, an' yer teachers fond an' dear, An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear, An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about, Er the Gobble-uns'll git you Ef you Don't Watch Out! [Unavailable image: Little Orphant Annie—Tailpiece]

THE RAGGEDY MAN

[Unavailable image: The Raggedy Man—Title] 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! [Unavailable image: He showed me the hole 'at the Wunks is got] 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!

CURLY LOCKS

[Unavailable image: Curly Locks—Title] Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine? Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine,— But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam, And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream. Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine? The throb of my heart is in every line, And the pulse of a passion as airy and glad In its musical beat as the little Prince had! [Unavailable image: Sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam] Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine!— O I'll dapple thy hands with these kisses of mine Till the pink of the nail of each finger shall be As a little pet blush in full blossom for me. But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam, And thou shalt have fabric as fair as a dream,— The red of my veins, and the white of my love, And the gold of my joy for the braiding thereof. And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream From a service of silver, with jewels agleam,— At thy feet will I bide, at thy beck will I rise, And twinkle my soul in the night of thine eyes! Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?

Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine.— But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam, And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream.

THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW

[Unavailable image: The Funny Little Fellow—Title] 'Twas a Funny Little Fellow Of the very purest type, For he had a heart as mellow As an apple over-ripe; And the brightest little twinkle When a funny thing occurred, And the lightest little tinkle Of a laugh you ever heard! His smile was like the glitter Of the sun in tropic lands, And his talk a sweeter twitter Than the swallow understands; Hear him sing—and tell a story— Snap a joke—ignite a pun,— 'Twas a capture—rapture—glory, And explosion—all in one! Though he hadn't any money— That condiment which tends To make a fellow "honey" For the palate of his friends;— Sweet simples he compounded— Sovereign antidotes for sin Or taint,—a faith unbounded That his friends were genuine. He wasn't honored, may be— For his songs of praise were slim,— Yet I never knew a baby That wouldn't crow for him; I never knew a mother But urged a kindly claim Upon him as a brother, At the mention of his name. [Unavailable image: Never knew a baby that wouldn't crow for him] The sick have ceased their sighing

And have even found the grace Of a smile when they were dying As they looked upon his face; And I've seen his eyes of laughter Melt in tears that only ran As though, swift dancing after, Came the Funny Little Man. He laughed away the sorrow, And he laughed away the gloom We are all so prone to borrow From the darkness of the tomb; And he laughed across the ocean Of a happy life, and passed, With a laugh of glad emotion, Into Paradise at last. And I think the Angels knew him, And had gathered to await His coming, and run to him Through the widely-opened Gate— With their faces gleaming sunny For his laughter-loving sake, And thinking, "What a funny Little Angel he will make!"

THE HAPPY LITTLE CRIPPLE

[Unavailable image: The Happy Little Cripple—Title] 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!" [Unavailable image: An' I peck on the winder] 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 thing you know, You'll have a little spike-tail coat an' travel with a show!" An' nen I laughed—till I looked round an' Aunty was a-cryin'— Sometimes she acts like that, 'cause I got "Curv'ture of the Spine."

I set—while Aunty's washin'—on my little long-leg stool, An' watch the little boys an' girls a-skippin' by to school; An' I peck on the winder, an' holler out an' say: "Who wants to fight The Little Man 'at dares you all today?" An', nen the boys climbs on the fence, an' little girls peeks through, An' they all says: "Cause you're so big, you think we're 'feared o' you!" An' nen they yell, an' shake their fist at me, like I shake mine— They're thist in fun, you know, 'cause I got "Curv'ture of the Spine!" At evening, when the ironin's done, an' Aunty's fixed the fire, An' filled an' lit the lamp, an' trimmed the wick an' turned it higher, An' fetched the wood all in fer night, an' locked the kitchen door, An' stuffed the ole crack where the wind blows in up through the floor— She sets the kittle on the coals, an' biles an' makes the tea, An' fries the liver an' the mush, an' cooks a egg fer me; An' sometimes—when I cough so hard—her elderberry wine Don't go so bad fer little boys with "Curv'ture of the Spine!" [Unavailable image: An' cooks a' egg fer me]

But Aunty's all so childish-like on my account, you see, I'm 'most afeard she'll be took down—an' 'at's what bothers me!— 'Cause ef my good old Aunty ever would git sick an' die, I don't know what she'd do in heaven—till I come, by an' by:— Fer she's so ust to all my ways, an' ever'thing, you know, An' no one there like me, to nuss an' worry over so!— 'Cause all the little childerns there's so straight an' strong an' fine, They's nary angel 'bout the place with "Curv'ture of the Spine!" [Unavailable image: The Happy Little Cripple—Tailpiece]

THE RIDER OF THE KNEE

Knightly Rider of the Knee Of Proud-prancing Unclery! Gaily mount, and wave the sign Of that mastery of thine. Pat thy steed and turn him free, Knightly Rider of the Knee! Sit thy charger as a throne— Lash him with thy laugh alone: Sting him only with the spur Of such wit as may occur, Knightly Rider of the Knee, In thy shriek of ecstasy. Would, as now, we might endure, Twain as one—thou miniature Ruler, at the rein of me— Knightly Rider of the Knee! [Unavailable image: The Rider of the Knee]

DOWN AROUND THE RIVER

[Unavailable image: Down Around the River—Title] Noon-time an' June-time, down around the river! Have to furse with 'Lizey Ann— but lawzy! I fergive her! Drives me off the place, an' says 'at all 'at she's a-wishin', Land o' gracious! time'll come I'll git enough o' fishin'! Little Dave, a-choppin' wood, never 'pears to notice; Don't know where she's hid his hat, er keerin' where his coat is,— Specalatin', more'n like, he haint a-goin' to mind me, An' guessin' where, say twelve o'clock, a feller'd likely find me! Noon-time an' June-time, down around the river! Clean out o' sight o' home, an' skulkin' under kivver Of the sycamores, jack-oaks, an' swamp-ash an' ellum— Idies all so jumbled up, you kin hardly tell 'em!— Tired, you know, but lovin' it, an' smilin' jes' to think 'at Any sweeter tiredness you'd fairly want to drink it! Tired o' fishin'—tired o' fun—line out slack an' slacker— All you want in all the world's a little more tobacker! Hungry, but a-hidin' it, er jes' a-not a-keerin':— Kingfisher gittin' up an' skootin' out o' hearin';

Snipes on the t'other side, where the County Ditch is, Wadin' up an' down the aidge like they'd rolled their britches! Old turkle on the root kindo-sorto drappin' Intoo th' worter like he don't know how it happen! Worter, shade an' all so mixed, don't know which you'd orter Say; th' worter in the shadder—shadder in the worter! Somebody hollerin'—'way around the bend in Upper Fork—where yer eye kin jes' ketch the endin' Of the shiney wedge o' wake some muss-rat's a-makin' With that pesky nose o' his! Then a sniff o' bacon, Corn-bred an' 'dock-greens—an' little Dave a-shinnin' 'Crost the rocks an' mussel-shells, a-limpin' an' a-grinnin', With yer dinner fer ye, an' a blessin' from the giver, Noon-time an' June-time down around the river! [Unavailable image: Noon-time and June-time down around the river] [Unavailable image: Down Around The River—Tailpiece]

AT AUNTY'S HOUSE

[Unavailable image: At Aunty's House—Title] 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' churries in 'em!—Yes, an' these— Here 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! [Unavailable image: 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'surves an' things 'At Ma don't 'low me to— An' chickun-gizzurds—(don't like wings Like Parunts does! 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

[Unavailable image: The Days Gone By—Title] 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. [Unavailable image: In the orchard] 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.