Читать книгу Neghborly Poems and Dialect Sketches - Riley James Whitcomb - Страница 17

'Ras Wilson, I respect you, 'cause

You're common, like you allus was

Afore you went to town and s'prised

The world by gittin' "reckonized,"

And yit perservin', as I say,

Your common hoss-sense ev'ryway!

And when that name o' yourn occurs

On hand-bills, er in newspapers,

Er letters writ by friends 'at ast

About you, same as in the past,

And neghbors and relations 'low

You're out o' the tall timber now,

And "gittin' thare" about as spry's

The next! – as I say, when my eyes,

Er ears, lights on your name, I mind

The first time 'at I come to find

You – and my Rickollection yells,

Jest jubilunt as old sleigh-bells —

"'Ras Wilson! Say! Hold up! and shake

A paw, fer old acquaintance sake!"

My Rickollection, more'n like,

Hain't overly too apt to strike

The what's-called "cultchurd public eye"

As wisdom of the deepest dye, —

And yit my Rickollection makes

So blame lots fewer bad mistakes,

Regardin' human-natchur' and

The fellers 'at I've shook theyr hand,

Than my best jedgemunt's done, the day

I've met 'em – 'fore I got away, —

'At – Well, 'Ras Wilson, let me grip

Your hand in warmest pardnership!

Dad-burn ye! – Like to jest haul back

A' old flat-hander, jest che-whack!

And take you 'twixt the shoulders, say,

Sometime you're lookin' t'other way! —

Er, maybe whilse you're speakin' to

A whole blame Courthouse-full o' 'thu-

Syastic friends, I'd like to jest

Come in-like and break up the nest

Afore you hatched anuther cheer,

And say: "'Ras, I can't stand hitched here

All night – ner wouldn't ef I could! —

But Little Bethel Neghborhood,

You ust to live at, 's sent some word

Fer you, ef ary chance occurred

To git it to ye, – so ef you

Kin stop, I'm waitin' fer ye to!"

You're common, as I said afore —

You're common, yit oncommon more. —

You allus kindo' 'pear, to me,

What all mankind had ort to be —

Jest natchurl, and the more hurraws

You git, the less you know the cause —

Like as ef God Hisse'f stood by

Where best on earth hain't half knee-high,

And seein' like, and knowin' He

'S the Only Grate Man really,

You're jest content to size your hight

With any feller-man's in sight. —

And even then they's scrubs, like me,

Feels stuck-up, in your company!

Like now: – I want to go with you

Plum out o' town a mile er two

Clean past the Fair-ground whare's some hint

O' pennyrile er peppermint,

And bottom-lands, and timber thick

Enugh to sorto' shade the crick!

I want to see you – want to set

Down somers, whare the grass hain't wet,

And kindo' breathe you, like puore air —

And taste o' your tobacker thare,

And talk and chaw! Talk o' the birds

We've knocked with cross-bows. – Afterwards

Drop, mayby, into some dispute

'Bout "pomgrannies," er cal'mus-root —

And how they growed, and whare? – on tree

Er vine? – Who's best boy-memory! —

And wasn't it gingsang, insted

O' cal'mus-root, growed like you said? —

Er how to tell a coon-track from

A mussrat's; – er how milksick come —

Er ef cows brung it? – Er why now

We never see no "muley" – cow —

Ner "frizzly" – chicken – ner no "clay-

Bank" mare – ner nothin' thataway! —

And what's come o' the yellow-core

Old wortermelons? – hain't no more. —

Tomattusus, the same – all red-

Uns nowadays – All past joys fled —

Each and all jest gone k-whizz!

Like our days o' childhood is!

Dag-gone it, 'Ras! they hain't no friend,

It 'pears-like, left to comperhend

Sich things as these but you, and see

How dratted sweet they air to me!

But you, 'at's loved 'em allus, and

Kin sort 'em out and understand

'Em, same as the fine books you've read,

And all fine thoughts you've writ, er said,

Er worked out, through long nights o' rain,

And doubts and fears, and hopes, again,

As bright as morning when she broke, —

You know a teardrop from a joke!

And so, 'Ras Wilson, stop and shake

A paw, fer old acquaintance sake!