Works

" - And any little tiny kickshaws." - Shakespeare.



O the little tiny kickshaw that Mither sent tae me,
'Tis sweeter than the sugar-plum that reepens on the tree,...

You kin boast about yer cities, and their stiddy growth and size,
And brag about yer County-seats, and business enterprise,
And railroads, and factories, and all sich foolery -...

"Hey, Bud! O Bud!" rang out a gleeful call, -
"The Loehrs is come to your house!" And a small
But very much elated little chap,
In snowy linen-suit and tasseled cap,...

I put by the half-written poem,
While the pen, idly trailed in my hand,
Writes on, "Had I words to complete it,
Who'd read it, or who'd understand?"
But the little bare feet on the stairway,...

Alone they walked - their fingers knit together,
And swaying listlessly as might a swing
Wherein Dan Cupid dangled in the weather
Of some sun-flooded afternoon of Spring.
...

The rhyme o' The Raggedy Man's 'at's best
Is Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs, -
'Cause that-un's the strangest of all o' the rest,
An' the worst to learn, an' the last one guessed,...

I

Who would be
A merman gay,
Singing alone,
Sitting alone,
With a mermaid's knee,
For instance - hey -
For a throne?

II

I would be a merman gay;...

It's many's the scenes which is dear to my mind
As I think of my childhood so long left behind;
The home of my birth, with it's old puncheon-floor,
And the bright morning-glories that growed round the door;...

They all climbed up on a high board-fence -
Nine little Goblins, with green-glass eyes -
Nine little Goblins that had no sense,
And couldn't tell coppers from cold mince pies;...

O big old tree, so tall an' fine,
Where all us childern swings an' plays,
Though neighbers says you're on the line
Between Pa's house an' Mr. Gray's, -
Us childern used to almost fuss,...

It's mighty good to git back to the old town, shore,
Considerin' I've be'n away twenty year and more.
Sence I moved then to Kansas, of course I see a change,...

The old days - the far days -
The overdear and fair! -
The old days - the lost days -
How lovely they were!
The old days of Morning,
With the dew-drench on the flowers
And apple-buds and blossoms...

How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood
That now but in mem'ry I sadly review;
The old meeting-house at the edge of the wildwood,
The rail fence, and horses all tethered thereto;...

Neglected now is the old guitar
And moldering into decay;
Fretted with many a rift and scar
That the dull dust hides away,
While the spider spins a silver star
In its silent lips to-day.
...

The Old Hay-mow's the place to play
Fer boys, when it's a rainy day!
I good-'eal ruther be up there
Than down in town, er anywhere!

When I play in our stable-loft,...

This is "The old Home by the Mill" - far we still call it so,
Although the old mill, roof and sill, is all gone long ago.
The old home, though, and old folks, and the old spring, and a few...

Such was the Child-World of the long-ago -
The little world these children used to know: -
Johnty, the oldest, and the best, perhaps,
Of the five happy little Hoosier chaps...

Lo! steadfast and serene,
In patient pause between
The seen and the unseen,
What gentle zephyrs fan
Your silken silver hair, -
And what diviner air
Breathes round you like a prayer,
Old Man?...