Riley Child-Rhymes.

by James Whitcomb Riley.

LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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!

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 s.n.a.t.c.hed 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 cl.u.s.ters all about, Er the Gobble-uns'll git you Ef you Don't Watch Out!

[Ill.u.s.tration: Little Orphant Annie--Tailpiece]

THE RAGGEDY MAN

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Raggedy Man--t.i.tle]

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!

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 Squidgic.u.m-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

[Ill.u.s.tration: Curly Locks--t.i.tle]

_Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?

Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine,-- But sit on a cus.h.i.+on 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 pa.s.sion as airy and glad In its musical beat as the little Prince had!

[Ill.u.s.tration: Sit on a cus.h.i.+on 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 cus.h.i.+on 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 cus.h.i.+on and sew a fine seam, And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream._

THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Funny Little Fellow--t.i.tle]

'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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 p.r.o.ne to borrow From the darkness of the tomb; And he laughed across the ocean Of a happy life, and pa.s.sed, 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!"