The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley in ten volumes |
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THE WAY IT WUZ |
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 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
1135
THE WAY IT WUZ
Las' July—and, I persume,
'Bout as hot
As the old Gran'-jury room
Whare they sot!—
Fight 'twixt Mike and Dock McGreff. ...
'Pears to me jes' like as ef
I'd a-dremp' the whole blame thing—
Allus ha'nts me roun' the gizzard
When they's nightmares on the wing
And a feller's blood's jes' friz!
Seed the row from A to Izzard—
'Cause I wuz a-standin' as clos't to 'em
As me and you is!
'Bout as hot
As the old Gran'-jury room
Whare they sot!—
Fight 'twixt Mike and Dock McGreff. ...
'Pears to me jes' like as ef
I'd a-dremp' the whole blame thing—
Allus ha'nts me roun' the gizzard
When they's nightmares on the wing
And a feller's blood's jes' friz!
Seed the row from A to Izzard—
'Cause I wuz a-standin' as clos't to 'em
As me and you is!
Tell you the way it wuz—
And I don't want to see,
Like some fellers does,
When they's goern to be
Any kind o' fuss—
On'y makes a rumpus wuss
Fer to interfere
When theyr dander's riz—
Might as lif to cheer!
But I wuz a-standin' as clos't to 'em
As me and you is!
And I don't want to see,
Like some fellers does,
When they's goern to be
Any kind o' fuss—
On'y makes a rumpus wuss
Fer to interfere
When theyr dander's riz—
Might as lif to cheer!
But I wuz a-standin' as clos't to 'em
As me and you is!
1136
I wuz kind o' strayin'
Past the blame saloon—
Heerd some fiddler playin'
That old “Hee-cup tune!”
I'd stopped-like, you know,
Fer a minit er so,
And wuz jes' about
Settin' down, when—Jeemses-whizz!—
Whole durn winder-sash fell out!
And thare laid Dock McGreff, and Mike
A-straddlin' him, all bloody-like,
And both a-gittin' down to biz!—
And I wuz a-standin' as clos't to 'em
As me and you is!
Past the blame saloon—
Heerd some fiddler playin'
That old “Hee-cup tune!”
I'd stopped-like, you know,
Fer a minit er so,
And wuz jes' about
Settin' down, when—Jeemses-whizz!—
Whole durn winder-sash fell out!
And thare laid Dock McGreff, and Mike
A-straddlin' him, all bloody-like,
And both a-gittin' down to biz!—
And I wuz a-standin' as clos't to 'em
As me and you is!
I wuz the on'y man aroun'—
(Durn old-fogey town!
'Peared more like, to me,
Sund'y than Saturd'y!)
Dog come 'crost the road
And tuk a smell
And putt right back:
Mishler driv by 'ith a load
O' cantalo'pes he couldn't sell—
Too mad, 'i jack!
To even ast
What wuz up, as he went past!
Weather most outrageous hot!—
Fairly hear it sizz
Roun' Dock and Mike—tel Dock he shot,—
And Mike he slacked that grip o' his
And fell, all spraddled out. Dock riz
'Bout half up, a-spittin' red,
And shuck his head. ...
And I wuz a-standin' as clos't to 'em
As me and you is!
(Durn old-fogey town!
'Peared more like, to me,
Sund'y than Saturd'y!)
Dog come 'crost the road
And tuk a smell
And putt right back:
Mishler driv by 'ith a load
O' cantalo'pes he couldn't sell—
Too mad, 'i jack!
To even ast
What wuz up, as he went past!
Weather most outrageous hot!—
Fairly hear it sizz
1137
And Mike he slacked that grip o' his
And fell, all spraddled out. Dock riz
'Bout half up, a-spittin' red,
And shuck his head. ...
And I wuz a-standin' as clos't to 'em
As me and you is!
And Dock he says,
A-whisperin'-like,—
“It hain't no use
A-tryin'!—Mike
He's jes' ripped my daylights loose!—
Git that blame-don fiddler to
Let up, and come out here—You
Got some burryin' to do,—
Mike makes one, and, I expects,
'Bout ten seconds, I'll make two!”
And he drapped back, whare he'd riz,
'Crost Mike's body, black and blue,
Like a great big letter X!—
And I wuz a-standin' as clos't to 'em
As me and you is!
A-whisperin'-like,—
“It hain't no use
A-tryin'!—Mike
He's jes' ripped my daylights loose!—
Git that blame-don fiddler to
Let up, and come out here—You
Got some burryin' to do,—
Mike makes one, and, I expects,
'Bout ten seconds, I'll make two!”
And he drapped back, whare he'd riz,
'Crost Mike's body, black and blue,
Like a great big letter X!—
And I wuz a-standin' as clos't to 'em
As me and you is!
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |