Summertime, it's jes the same-- 'Cause I've noticed,--and I claim, As I said afore, I'm more Subjec' to the weather, _shore_, 'Proachin' my majority, Than I ever ust to be! Callin' back _last_ Summer, say,-- Don't seem hardly past away-- With night closin' in, and all S' lonesome-like in the dew-fail: Bats--ad-drat their ugly muggs!-- Flickern' by; and lightnin'-bugs Huckstern' roun' the airly night Little sickly gasps o' light;-- Whip-poor-wills, like all possessed, Moanin' out their mournfullest;-- Frogs and katydids and things Jes clubs in and sings and sings Their _ding-dangdest_!--Stock's all fed, And Pap's washed his feet fer bed;-- Mother and the girls all down At the milk-shed, foolin' roun'-- No wunder 'at I git blue, And lite out--and so would you! I caint stay aroun' no place Whur they haint no livin' face:-- 'Crost the fields and thue the gaps Of the hills they's friends, perhaps, Waitin' somers, 'at kin be Kindo' comfertin' to me!
Neighbors all 'is plenty good, Scattered thue this neighberhood; Yit, of all, I like to jes Drap in on the Wigginses.-- Old man, and old lady too, 'Pear-like, makes so much o' you--, Least, they've allus pampered me Like one of the fambily.-- The boys, too, 's all thataway-- Want you jes to come and stay;-- Price, and Chape, and Mandaville, Poke, Chasteen, and "Catfish Bill"-- Poke's the runt of all the rest, But he's jes the beatinest Little schemer, fer fourteen, Anybody ever seen!-- "Like his namesake," old man claims, "Jeems K. Poke, the first o' names! Full o' tricks and jokes--and you Never know what _Poke's_ go' do!" Genius, too, that-air boy is, With them awk'ard hands o' his: Gits this blame pokeberry-juice, Er some stuff, fer ink--and goose- Quill pen-p'ints: And then he'll draw Dogdest pictures yevver saw! Er make deers and eagles good As a writin'-teacher could! Then they's two twin boys they've riz Of old Coonrod Wigginses 'At's deceast--and glad of it, 'Cause his widder's livin' yit!
Course _the boys_ is mostly jes' Why I go to Wigginses.--- Though _Melviney_, sometimes, _she_ Gits her slate and algebry And jes' sets there ciphern' thue Sums old Ray hisse'f caint do!-- Jes' sets there, and tilts her chair Forreds tel, 'pear-like, her hair Jes' _spills_ in her lap--and then She jes' dips it up again With her hands, as white, I swan, As the apern she's got on!