Afterwhiles Part 10

Had a hare-lip-- Joney had: Spiled his looks, and Joney knowed it: Fellers tried to bore him, bad-- But ef ever he got mad, He kep' still and never showed it.

'Druther have his mouth all pouted And split up, and like it wuz, Than the ones 'at laughed about it.

Purty is as purty does!

Had to listen ruther clos't 'Fore you knowed "what he wuz givin'

You; and yet, without no boast, Joney he wuz jest the most Entertainin' talker livin'!

Take the Scriptur's and run through 'em, Might say, like a' auctioneer, And 'ud argy and review 'em 'At wuz beautiful to hear!

Hare-lip and inpediment, Both wuz bad, and both ag'in' him-- But the old folks where he went, 'Preared like, knowin' his intent, 'Scused his mouth fer what wuz in him.

And the childern all loved Joney-- And he loved 'em back, you bet--!

Putt their arms around him-- on'y None had ever kissed him yet!

In young company, someway, Boys 'ud grin at one another On the sly; and girls 'ud lay Low, with nothin' much to say, Er leave Joney with their mother.

Many and many a time he's fetched 'em Candy by the paper sack, And turned right around and ketched 'em Makin mouths behind his back!

S'prised sometimes, the slurs he took--.

Chap said onc't his mouth looked sorter Like a fish's mouth 'ud look When he'd be'n jerked off the hook And plunked back into the worter--.

Same durn feller-- it's su'prisin', But it's facts-- 'at stood and cherred From the bank that big babtizin'

'Pike-bridge accident occurred--!

Cherred for Joney while he give Life to little childern drowndin'!

Which wuz fittenest to live-- Him 'at cherred, er him 'at div'

And saved thirteen lives...? They found one Body, three days later, floated Down the by-o, eight mile' south, All so colored-up and bloated-- On'y knowed him by his mouth!

Had a hare-lip-- Joney had-- Folks 'at filed apast all knowed it--.

Them 'at ust to smile looked sad, But ef he thought good er bad, He kep' still and never showed it.

'Druther have that mouth, all pouted And split up, and like it wuz, Than the ones 'at laughed about it--.

Purty is as purty does!

_Like His Mother Used To Make_

"Uncle Jake's Place," St. Jo, Mo., 1874

"I was born in Indiany," says a stranger, lank and slim, As us fellers in the restarunt was kindo' guyin' him, And Uncle Jake was slidin' him another punkin pie And a' extry cup o' coffee, with a twinkle in his eye.

"I was born in Indiany-- more'n forty year' ago-- I hain't be'n back in twenty-- and I'm workin' back'ards slow; But I've et in ever' restarunt 'twixt here and Santy Fee, And I want to state this coffee tastes like gittin' home, to me!"

"Pour us out another, Daddy," says the feller, warmin' up, A-speakin' 'cost a saucerful, as Uncle tuk his cup--, "When I seed yer sign out yander," he went on, to Uncle Jake- -, "'Come in and git some coffee like yer mother used to make'-- I thought of my old mother, and the Posey County farm, And me a little kid ag'in, a-hangin' in her arm, As she set the pot: a-bilin', broke the eggs and poured 'em in--"

And the feller kindo' halted, with a trimble in his chin:

And Uncle Jake he fetched the feller's coffee back, and stood As solemn, fer a minute, as a' undertaker would; Then he sorto' turned and tiptoed to'rds the kitchen door-- and nex', Here comes his old wife out with him, a-rubbin' of her specs-- And she rushes fer the stranger, and she hollers out, "It's him--!

Thank G.o.d we've met him comin'--! Don't you know, yer mother, Jim?"

And the feller, as he grabbed her, says--, "You bet I hain't forgot-- But," wipin' of his eyes, says he, "yer coffee's mighty hot!"

_The Train Misser_

At Union Station

'Ll where in the world my eyes has bin-- Ef I hain't missed that train ag'in!

Chuff! And whistle! And toot! And ring!

But blast and blister the dasted train--!

How it does it I can't explain!

Git here thirty-five minutes before The durn things due--! And, drat the thing It'll manage to git past-sh.o.r.e!

The more I travel around, the more I got no sense--! To stand right here And let it beat me! 'Ll ding my melts!

I got no gumption, ner nothin' else!

Ticket Agent's a dad-burned bore--!

Sell you a tickets all they keer--!

Ticket Agents ort to all be

Prosecuted-- and that's jes what--!

How'd I know which train's fer me?

And how'd I know which train was not--?

Goern and comin' and gone astray, And backin' and switchin' ever'-which-way!

Ef I could jes sneak round behind Myse'f, where I could git full swing, I'd lift my coat, and kick, by jing!

Till I jes got jerked up and fined--!

Fer here I stood, as a durn fool's apt To, and let that train jes chuff and choo Right apast me-- and mouth jes gapped Like a blamed old sandwitch warped in two!

_Granny_

Granny's come to our house, And ho! My lawzy-daisy!

All the childern round the place Is ist a-runnin' crazy!

Fetched a cake fer little Jake, And fetched a pie fer Nanny, And fetched a pear fer all the pack That runs to kiss their Granny!

Lucy Ellen's in her lap, And Wade and Silas Walker Both's a ridin' on her foot, And 'Pollos on the rocker; And Marthy's twins, from Aunt Marinn's And little Orphant Annie, All's a-eatin' gingerbread And giggle-un at Granny!

Tells us all the fairy tales Ever thought er wundered-- And 'bundance o' other stories-- Bet she knows a hunderd--!

Bob's the one fer "Whittington,"

And "Golden Locks" fer f.a.n.n.y!

Hear 'em laugh and clap their hands, Listenin' at Granny!

"Jack the Giant-Killer" 's good; And "Bean-Stalk" 's another--!

So's the one of "Cinderell'"

And her old G.o.dmother--; That-un's best of all the rest-- Bestest one of any--, Where the mices scampers home Like we runs to Granny!

Granny's come to our house, Ho! My lawzy-daisy!

All the childern round the place Is ist a runnin' crazy!

Fetched a cake fer little Jake, And fetched a pie fer Nanny, And fetched a pear fer all the pack That runs to kiss their Granny!

_Old October_

Old October's purt' nigh gone, And the frosts is comin' on Little heavier every day-- Like our hearts is thataway!

Leaves is changin' overhead Back from green to gray and red, Brown and yeller, with their stems Loosenin' on the oaks and e'ms; And the balance of the trees Gittin' balder every breeze-- Like the heads we're scratchin' on!

Old October's purt' nigh gone.