 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
2061
AN IMPROMPTU FAIRY-TALE
When I wuz ist a little bit o' weenty-teenty kid
I maked up a Fairy-tale, all by myse'f, I did:—
I maked up a Fairy-tale, all by myse'f, I did:—
I
Wunst upon a time wunstThey wuz a Fairy King,
An' ever'thing he have wuz gold—
His clo'es, an' ever'thing!
An' all the other Fairies
In his goldun Palace-hall
Had to hump an' hustle—
'Cause he was bosst of all!
II
He have a golden trumput,An' when he blow' on that,
It's a sign he want' his boots,
Er his coat er hat:
2062
An' all the Fairies knowed
Ever' sign, an' come a-hoppin'
When the King blowed!
III
Wunst he blowed an' telled 'em all:“Saddle up yer bees—
Fireflies is gittin' fat
An' sassy as you please!—
Guess we'll go a-huntin'!”
So they hunt' a little bit,
Till the King blowed “Supper-time,”
Nen they all quit.
IV
Nen they have a BanqutIn the Palace-hall,
An' ist et! an' et! an' et!
Nen they have a Ball;
An' when the Queen o' Fairyland
Come p'omenadin' through,
The King says an' halts her,—
“Guess I'll marry you!”
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |