Riley Child-Rhymes | Page 5

In the days gone by, when my naked feet were tripped
By the
honeysuckle tangles where the water-lilies dipped,
And the ripples of
the river lipped the moss along the brink, Where the placid-eyed and
lazy-footed cattle came to drink, And the tilting snipe stood fearless of
the truant's wayward cry And the splashing of the swimmer, in the days
gone by.
O the days gone by! O the days gone by!
The music of the laughing
lip, the lustre of the eye;
The childish faith in fairies, and Aladdin's
magic ring--
The simple, soul-reposing, glad belief in everything,--

When life was like a story, holding neither sob nor sigh,
In the golden
olden glory of the days gone by.
THE BUMBLEBEE
You better not fool with a Bumblebee!--
Ef you don't think they can
sting--you'll see!
They're lazy to look at, an' kindo' go
Buzzin' an'
bummin' aroun' so slow,
An' ac' so slouchy an' all fagged out,

Danglin' their legs as they drone about
The hollyhawks 'at they can't
climb in
'Ithout ist a-tumble-un out agin!
Wunst I watched one
climb clean 'way
In a jim'son-blossom, I did, one day,--
An' I ist
grabbed it--an' nen let go--
An' "Ooh-ooh! Honey! I told ye so!"

Says The Raggedy Man; an' he ist run
An' pullt out the stinger, an'
don't laugh none,
An' says: "They has ben folks, I guess,
'At
thought I wuz predjudust, more er less,--
Yit I still muntain 'at a

Bumblebee
Wears out his welcome too quick fer me!"
[Illustration: The Bumblebee]
THE BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM
[Illustration: The Boy Lives on Our Farm--Title]
The boy lives on our Farm, he's not
Afeard o' horses none!
An' he
can make 'em lope, er trot,
Er rack, er pace, er run.
Sometimes he
drives two horses, when
He comes to town an' brings
A wagon-full
o' 'taters nen,
An' roastin'-ears an' things.
Two horses is "a team," he says,
An' when you drive er hitch,
The
right-un's a "near-horse," I guess
Er "off"--I don't know which--

The Boy lives on our Farm, he told
Me, too, 'at he can see,
By
lookin' at their teeth, how old
A horse is, to a T!
I'd be the gladdest boy alive
Ef I knowed much as that,
An' could
stand up like him an' drive,
An' ist push back my hat,
Like he
comes skallyhootin' through
Our alley, with one arm
A-wavin'
Fare-ye-well! to you--
The Boy lives on our Farm!
[Illustration: Stand up like him an' drive]
THE SQUIRTGUN UNCLE MAKED ME
[Illustration: The Squirtgun Uncle Maked Me--Title]
Uncle Sidney, when he wuz here,
Maked me a squirtgun out o' some

Elder-bushes 'at growed out near
Where wuz the brickyard--'way
out clear
To where the toll-gate come!
So when we walked back home again,
He maked it, out in our

woodhouse where
Wuz the old workbench, an' the old jack-plane,

An' the old 'pokeshave, an' the tools all lay'n'
Ist like he wants 'em there.
He sawed it first with the old hand-saw;
An' nen he peeled off the
bark, an' got
Some glass an' scraped it; an' told 'bout Pa,
When he
wuz a boy an' fooled his Ma,
An' the whippin' 'at he caught.
Nen Uncle Sidney, he took an' filed
A' old arn ramrod; an' one o' the
ends
He screwed fast into the vise; an' smiled,
Thinkin', he said, o'
when he wuz a child,
'Fore him an' Pa wuz mens.
He punched out the peth, an' nen he put
A plug in the end with a hole
notched through;
Nen took the old drawey-knife an' cut
An' maked
a handle 'at shoved clean shut
But ist where yer hand held to.
An' he wropt th'uther end with some string an' white
Piece o' the
sleeve of a' old tored shirt;
An' nen he showed me to hold it tight,

An' suck in the water an' work it right
An' it 'ud ist squirt an' squirt!
[Illustration: The Squirtgun--Tailpiece]
[Illustration: An' nen he peeled off the bark]
THE OLD TRAMP
[Illustration: The Old Tramp.]
A Old Tramp slep' in our stable wunst,
An' The Raggedy Man he

caught
An' roust him up, an' chased him off
Clean out through our
back lot!
An' th' Old Tramp hollered back an' said,--
"You're a purty_
man!--_You air!--
With a pair o' eyes like two fried eggs,
An' a nose
like a Bartlutt pear!"
OLD AUNT MARY'S
Wasn't it pleasant, O brother mine,
In those old days of the lost
sunshine
Of youth--when the Saturday's chores were through,
And
the "Sunday's wood" in the kitchen, too,
And we went visiting, "me
and you,"
Out to Old Aunt Mary's?
It all comes back so clear to-day!
Though I am as bald as you are
gray--
Out by the barn-lot, and down the lane,
We patter along in
the dust again,
As light as the tips of the drops of the rain,
Out to Old Aunt Mary's!
We cross the pasture, and through the wood
Where the old gray snag
of the poplar stood,
Where the hammering "red-heads" hopped awry,

And the buzzard "raised" in the "clearing" sky
And lolled and
circled, as we went by
Out to Old Aunt Mary's.
And then in the dust of the road again;
And