But Aunty's all so childish-like on my account, you see, I'm 'most afeard she'll be took down--an' 'at's what bothers me!-- 'Cause ef my good old Aunty ever would git sick an' die, I don't know what she'd do in heaven--till _I_ come, by an' by:-- Fer she's so ust to all my ways, an' ever'thing, you know, An' no one there like me, to nuss an' worry over so!-- 'Cause all the little childerns there's so straight an' strong an' fine, They's nary angel 'bout the place with "Curv'ture of the Spine!" [Illustration: The Happy Little Cripple--Tailpiece] THE RIDER OF THE KNEE Knightly Rider of the Knee Of Proud-prancing Unclery! Gaily mount, and wave the sign Of that mastery of thine. Pat thy steed and turn him free, Knightly Rider of the Knee! Sit thy charger as a throne-- Lash him with thy laugh alone: Sting him only with the spur Of such wit as may occur, Knightly Rider of the Knee, In thy shriek of ecstasy. Would, as now, we might endure, Twain as one--thou miniature Ruler, at the rein of me-- Knightly Rider of the Knee! [Illustration: The Rider of the Knee] DOWN AROUND THE RIVER [Illustration: Down Around the River--Title] Noon-time an' June-time, down around the river! Have to furse with 'Lizey Ann--but lawzy! I fergive her! Drives me off the place, an' says 'at all 'at she's a-wishin', Land o' gracious! time'll come I'll git enough o' fishin'! Little Dave, a-choppin' wood, never 'pears to notice; Don't know where she's hid his hat, er keerin' where his coat is,-- Specalatin', more'n like, he haint a-goin' to mind me, An' guessin' where, say twelve o'clock, a feller'd likely find me! Noon-time an' June-time, down around the river! Clean out o' sight o' home, an' skulkin' under kivver Of the sycamores, jack-oaks, an' swamp-ash an' ellum-- Idies all so jumbled up, you kin hardly tell 'em!-- _Tired_, you know, but _lovin'_ it, an' smilin' jes' to think 'at Any _sweeter_ tiredness you'd fairly want to _drink_ it! Tired o' fishin'--tired o' fun--line out slack an' slacker-- All you want in all the world's a little more tobacker! Hungry, but _a-hidin'_ it, er jes' a-not a-keerin':-- Kingfisher gittin' up an' skootin' out o' hearin'; Snipes on the t'other side, where the County Ditch is, Wadin' up an' down the aidge like they'd rolled their britches! Old turkle on the root kindo-sorto drappin' Intoo th' worter like he don't know how it happen! Worter, shade an' all so mixed, don't know which you'd orter Say; th' _worter_ in the shadder--_shadder_ in the _worter!_ Somebody hollerin'--'way around the bend in Upper Fork--where yer eye kin jes' ketch the endin' Of the shiney wedge o' wake some muss-rat's a-makin' With that pesky nose o' his! Then a sniff o' bacon, Corn-bred an' 'dock-greens--an' little Dave a-shinnin' 'Crost the rocks an' mussel-shells, a-limpin' an' a-grinnin', With yer dinner fer ye, an' a blessin' from the giver, Noon-time an' June-time down around the river!