The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley — Volume 1Riley, James Whitcomb
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The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley — Volume 1
Riley, James Whitcomb
American poetry
As a child, he often went with his father to the court-house
where the lawyers and clerks playfully called him "judge Wick."
Here as a privileged character he met and mingled with the
country folk who came to sue and be sued, and thus early the
dialect, the native speech, the quaint expressions of his "own
people" were made familiar to him, and took firm root in the
fresh soil of his young memory. At about this time, he made his
first poetic attempt in a valentine which he gave to his mother.
Not only did he write the verse, but he drew a sketch to
accompany it, greatly to his mother's delight, who, according to
the best authority, gave the young poet "three big cookies and
didn't spank me for two weeks. This was my earliest literary
encouragement."
Shortly after his sixteenth birthday, young Riley turned his back
on the little schoolhouse and for a time wandered through the
different fields of art, indulging a slender talent for painting
until he thought he was destined for the brush and palette, and
then making merry with various musical instruments, the banjo,
the guitar, the violin, until finally he appeared as bass drummer
in a brass band. "In a few weeks," he said, "I had beat myself
into the more enviable position of snare drummer. Then I wanted
to travel with a circus, and dangle my legs before admiring
thousands over the back seat of a Golden Chariot. In a dearth of
comic songs for the banjo and guitar, I had written two or three
myself, and the idea took possession of me that I might be a
clown, introduced as a character-song-man and the composer of my
own ballads.
"My father was thinking of something else, however, and one day I
found myself with a 'five-ought' paint brush under the eaves of
an old frame house that drank paint by the bucketful, learning to
be a painter. Finally, I graduated as a house, sign and
ornamental painter, and for two summers traveled about with a
small company of young fellows calling ourselves 'The Graphics,'
who covered all the barns and fences in the state with
advertisements."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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