Neghborly Poems and Dialect SketchesRiley, James Whitcomb
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Neghborly Poems and Dialect Sketches
Riley, James Whitcomb
Dialect literature, American; Dialect poetry, American
This was about the tale 'at Ezry told us, as nigh as I can rickollect:
and by the time he finished, I never want to see jist sich another
crowd o' men as was a-swarmin' there. Ain't it awful when sich a crowd
gits together? I tell you it makes my flesh creep to think about it!
As Bills had gone in the direction of the river, we wasn't long in
makin' our minds up 'at he'd haf to cross it, and ef he done _that_
he'd haf to use the boat 'at was down below the mill, er wade it at the
ford, a mil'd er more down. So we divided in three sections, like--one
to go and look after the folks at the house, and another to the boat,
and another to the ford. And Steve and me and Ezry was in the crowd 'at
struck fer the boat: and we made time a-gittin' there! It was awful
dark, and the sky was a-cloudin' up, like a storm; but we wasn't long
a-gittin' to the p'int where the boat was allus tied; but they wasn't
no boat there! Steve kindo' tuk the lead, and we all talked in
whispers. And Steve said to kindo' lay low and maybe we could hear
somepin'; and some feller said he thought he heerd somepin'
strange-like, but the wind was kindo' raisin' and kep' up sich a
moanin' through the trees along the bank 'at we couldn't make out
nothin'. "Listen!" says Steve, suddent-like, "_I_ hear somepin'!" We
was all still ag'in--and we all heerd a moanin' 'at was sadder'n the
wind--sounded mournfuller to _me_,--'cause I knowed it in a minute, and
I whispered, "Little Annie." And 'way out acrost the river we could
hear the little thing a-sobbin', and we all was still's death; and we
heerd a voice we knowed was Bills's say, "Dam ye! Keep still, or I'll
drownd ye!" And the wind kindo' moaned ag'in, and we could hear the
trees a-screetchin' together in the dark, and the leaves a-rustlin';
and when it kindo' lulled ag'in, we heerd Bills make a kindo' splash
with the oars; and jist then Steve whispered fer to lay low and be
ready--he was a-goin' to riconn'itre; and he took his coat and shoes
off, and slid over the bank and down into the worter as slik as a' eel.
Then ever'thing was still ag'in, 'cept the moanin' o' the child, which
kep' a-gittin' louder and louder; and then a voice whispered to us,
"He's a-comin' back; the crowd below has sent scouts up, and they're on
t'other side. Now watch clos't, and he's our meat." We could hear
Bills, by the moanin' o' the baby, a-comin' nearder and nearder, tel
suddently he made a sorto' miss-lick with the oar, I reckon, and must
a-splashed the baby, fer she set up a loud cryin'; and jist then old
Ezry, who was a-leanin' over the bank, kindo' lost his grip, some way
o' nother, and fell kersplash in the worter like a' old chunk. "Hello?"
says Bills, through the dark, "you're there, too, air ye?" as old Ezry
splashed up the bank ag'in. And "Cuss you!" he says then, to the
baby--"ef it hadn't be'n fer _your_ infernal squawkin' I'd a-be'n all
right; but you've brought the whole neighberhood out, and, dam you,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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