 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
2117
ALMOST BEYOND ENDURANCE
I ain't a-goin' to cry no more, no more!
I'm got ear-ache, an' Ma can't make
It quit a-tall;
An' Carlo bite my rubber-ball
An' puncture it; an' Sis she take
An' poke' my knife down through the stable-floor
An' loozed it—blame it all!
But I ain't goin' to cry no more, no more!
I'm got ear-ache, an' Ma can't make
It quit a-tall;
An' Carlo bite my rubber-ball
An' puncture it; an' Sis she take
An' poke' my knife down through the stable-floor
An' loozed it—blame it all!
But I ain't goin' to cry no more, no more!
An' Aunt Mame wrote she's comin', an' she can't—
Folks is come there!—An' I don't care
She is my Aunt!
An' my eyes stings; an' I'm
Ist coughin' all the time,
An' hurts me so; an' where my side's so sore
Grampa felt where, an' he
Says “Mayby it's pleurasy!”
But I ain't goin' to cry no more, no more!
Folks is come there!—An' I don't care
She is my Aunt!
An' my eyes stings; an' I'm
Ist coughin' all the time,
An' hurts me so; an' where my side's so sore
Grampa felt where, an' he
Says “Mayby it's pleurasy!”
But I ain't goin' to cry no more, no more!
An' I clumbed up an' nen falled off the fence,
An' Herbert he ist laugh at me!
An' my fi'-cents
It sticked in my tin bank, an' I ist tore
Purt' nigh my thumbnail off, a-tryin' to git
It out—nen smash it!—An' it's in there yit!
But I ain't goin' to cry no more, no more!
An' Herbert he ist laugh at me!
An' my fi'-cents
It sticked in my tin bank, an' I ist tore
Purt' nigh my thumbnail off, a-tryin' to git
It out—nen smash it!—An' it's in there yit!
But I ain't goin' to cry no more, no more!
2118
Oo! I'm so wickud!—An' my breath's so hot—
Ist like I run an' don't res' none
But ist run on when I ought to not;
Yes, an' my chin
An' lips's all warpy, an' teeth's so fast,
An' 's a place in my throat I can't swaller past—
An' they all hurt so!—
An' oh, my-oh!
I'm a-startin' ag'in—
I'm a-startin' ag'in, but I won't, fer shore!—
I ist ain't goin' to cry no more, no more!
Ist like I run an' don't res' none
But ist run on when I ought to not;
Yes, an' my chin
An' lips's all warpy, an' teeth's so fast,
An' 's a place in my throat I can't swaller past—
An' they all hurt so!—
An' oh, my-oh!
I'm a-startin' ag'in—
I'm a-startin' ag'in, but I won't, fer shore!—
I ist ain't goin' to cry no more, no more!
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |