Neghborly Poems and Dialect SketchesRiley, James Whitcomb
General
Neghborly Poems and Dialect Sketches
Riley, James Whitcomb
Dialect literature, American; Dialect poetry, American
Jist then the boat swung up, and Bills grabbed it and retch 'round and
set the baby in it, never a-takin' his eye off o' us, though, fer a
minute. "Now," says he, with a sorto' snarlin' laugh, "I've on'y got a
little while to stay with you, and I want to say a few words afore I
go. I want to tell you fellers, in the first place, 'at you've be'n
_fooled_ in me: I _hain't_ a good feller--now, honest! And ef you're a
little the worse fer findin' it out so late in the day, you hain't none
the worse fer losin' me so soon--fer I'm a-goin' away now, and any
interference with my arrangements'll on'y give you more trouble; so
it's better all around to let me go peaceable and jist while I'm in the
notion. I expect it'll be a disapp'intment to some o' you that my name
hain't 'Williams,' but it hain't. And maybe you won't think nigh as
much o' me when I tell you furder 'at I was obleeged to 'dopt the name
o' 'Williams' onc't to keep from bein' strung up to a lamp-post, but
sich is the facts. I was so extremely unfortunit onc't as to kill a
p'tickler friend o' mine, and he forgive me with his dyin' breath, and
told me to run whilse I could, and be a better man. But he'd spotted me
with a' ugly mark 'at made it kindo' onhandy _to_ git away, but I did
at last; and jist as I was a-gittin' reformed-like, you fellers had to
kick in the traces, and I've made up my mind to hunt out a more moraler
community, where they don't make sich a fuss about trifles. And havin'
nothin' more to say, on'y to send _Annie_ word 'at I'll still be a
father to her young-un here, I'll bid you all good-bye." And with that
he turned and clum in the boat--or ruther _fell_ in,--fer somepin'
black-like had riz up in it, with a' awful lick--my--God!--And, a
minute later, boat and baggage was a-gratin' on the shore, and a crowd
come thrashin' 'crost from t'other side to jine us,--and 'peared like
wasn't a _second_ longer tel a feller was a-swingin' by his neck to the
limb of a scrub-oak, his feet clean off the ground and his legs
a-jerkin' up and down like a limber-jack's.
And Steve it was a-layin' in the boat, and he'd rid a mil'd er more
'thout knowin' of it. Bills had struck and stunt him as he clum in
whilse the rumpus was a-goin' on, and he'd on'y come to in time to
hear Bills's farewell address to us there at the ford.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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