What Chris’mas Fetched The Wigginses (James Whitcomb Riley Poems)
Wintertime, er Summertime, Of late years I notice I'm, Kindo'-like, more subjec' to What the _weather_ is. Now, you Folks 'at lives in town, I ...
Wintertime, er Summertime, Of late years I notice I'm, Kindo'-like, more subjec' to What the _weather_ is. Now, you Folks 'at lives in town, I ...
Up and down old Brandywine, In the days 'at's past and gone--With a dad-burn hook-and line And a saplin' pole--swawn! I've had more ...
I. Tugg Martin's tough.--No doubt o' that! And down there at The town he come from word's bin sent Advisin' this-here Settle-ment To kindo' _humor_ ...
I' b'en a-kindo musin', as the feller says, and I'm About o' the conclusion that they ain't no better time, When you ...
On old Brandywine-- aboutWhere White's Lots is now laid out,And the old crick narries downTo the ditch that splits the ...
The summer winds is sniffin' round the bloomin' locus' trees;And the clover in the pastur is a big day fer the ...
A passel o' the boys last night-- An' me amongst 'em--kindo got To talkin' Temper'nce left an' right, An' workin' up "blue-ribbon," _hot_; An' ...
He was jes a plain ever'-day, all-round kind of a jour.,Consumpted-Iookin'-- but la!The jokeiest, wittiest, story-tellin', song-singin', laughin'est, jolliestFeller you ...
My dear old friends--It jes beats all, The way you write a letterSo's ever' _last_ line beats the _first_, And ever' _next_-un's ...
"Uncle Jake's Place," St. Jo, Mo., 1874"I was born in Indiany," says a stranger, lank and slim,As us fellers in ...
Old October's purt' nigh gone,And the frosts is comin' onLittle heavier every day--Like our hearts is thataway!Leaves is changin' overheadBack ...
They ain't no style about 'em,And they're sorto' pale and faded,Yit the doorway here, without 'em,Would be lonesomer, and shadedWith ...
An Ancient gaffer once I knew, Who puffed a pipe and tossed a tankard; He claimed a hundred years or ...
I'm gatherin' flowers by the wayside to lay on the grave of Bill; I've sneaked away from the billet, 'cause ...
I've been sittin' starin', starin' at 'is muddy pair of boots, And tryin' to convince meself it's 'im. (Look out ...
But yesterday I banked on fistic fame, Figgerin' I'd be a champion of the Ring. Today I've half a mind ...
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