Say, you ain’t goin’ t’ tell our Ma
’At you was passin’ by an’ saw
Us swimmin’ here. W’y, Mister, you
Won’t never feel right if you do.
Don’t be a tattle-tale! W’y, say,
If you should give us boys away
You couldn’t never bear to see
A boy—’ist like you used t’ be.
Come on, now! You ain’t goin’ t’ tell
On us. I know it, ’ist as well
As anythin’. You wouldn’t hurt
Her feelin’s ’ist t’ do us dirt.
You won’t? Thanks, Mister. You’re a brick.
We’re goin’ home, Sir, pretty quick.
It’s awful fine here, ’cuz, y’ see,
We’re boys—’ist like you used t’ be.
IN SWIMMING
AN UNUSUAL CHUM
HENRY Blake’s father goes fishing with him,
And goes in the creek so’s to teach him to swim;
He talks to him just like they’re awful close chums
And sometimes at night he helps Henry do sums;
And once he showed Henry how he used to make
A basket by whittling a peach stone and take
The bark off of willows for whistles although
He hadn’t made one since a long time ago.
Henry Blake’s father is just like his chum,
And when he goes fishing he lets Henry come;
He fixes two seats on the bank of the brook
And shows Henry how to put frogs on his hook;
And sometimes he laughs in the jolliest way
At some little thing that he hears Henry say,
And dips up a drink in his hat like you do
When only just boys go a-fishing with you.
Henry Blake’s father will take him and stay
Somewhere in the woods for a half holiday
And wear his old clothes and bring home a big sack
Of hick’ries and walnuts to help Henry crack;
And sit on a dead log somewhere in the shade
To eat big sandwiches his mother has made;
And Henry Blake’s father, he don’t seem as though
He’s more than his uncle, he likes Henry so!