A Child-World

by James Whitcomb Riley

THE OLD SNOW-MAN
Ho! the old Snow-Man
That Noey Bixler made!
He looked as fierce and sassy
As a soldier on parade!—
'Cause Noey, when he made him,
While we all wuz gone, you see,
He made him, jist a-purpose,
Jist as fierce as he could be!—
But when we all got ust to him,
Nobody wuz afraid
Of the old Snow-Man
That Noey Bixler made!
'Cause Noey told us 'bout him
And what he made him fer:—
He'd come to feed, that morning
He found we wuzn't here;
And so the notion struck him,
When we all come taggin' home
'Tud s'prise us ef a' old Snow-Man
'Ud meet us when we come!
So, when he'd fed the stock, and milked,
And ben back home, and chopped
His wood, and et his breakfast, he
Jist grabbed his mitts and hopped
Right in on that-air old Snow-Man
That he laid out he'd make
Er bust a trace a-tryin'—jist
Fer old-acquaintance sake!—
But work like that wuz lots more fun.
He said, than when he played!
Ho! the old Snow-Man
That Noey Bixler made!
He started with a big snow-ball,
And rolled it all around;
And as he rolled, more snow 'ud stick
And pull up off the ground.—
He rolled and rolled all round the yard—
'Cause we could see the track,
All wher' the snow come off, you know,
And left it wet and black.
He got the Snow-Man's legs-part rolled—
In front the kitchen-door,—
And then he hat to turn in then
And roll and roll some more!—
He rolled the yard all round agin,
And round the house, at that—
Clean round the house and back to wher'
The blame legs-half wuz at!
He said he missed his dinner, too—
Jist clean fergot and stayed
There workin'. Ho! the old Snow-Man
That Noey Bixler made!
And Noey said he hat to hump To git the top-half on
The legs-half!—When he did, he said,
His wind wuz purt'-nigh gone.—
He said, I jucks! he jist drapped down
There on the old porch-floor
And panted like a dog!—And then
He up! and rolled some more!—
The last batch—that wuz fer his head,—
And—time he'd got it right
And clumb and fixed it on, he said—
He hat to quit fer night!—
And then, he said, he'd kep' right on
Ef they'd ben any moon To work by! So he crawled in bed—
And could a-slep' tel noon,
He wuz so plum wore out! he said,—
But it wuz washin'-day,
And hat to cut a cord o' wood
'Fore he could git away!
But, last, he got to work agin,—
With spade, and gouge, and hoe,
And trowel, too—(All tools 'ud do
What Noey said, you know!)
He cut his eyebrows out like cliffs—
And his cheekbones and chin
Stuck furder out—and his old nose Stuck out as fur-agin!
He made his eyes o' walnuts,
And his whiskers out o' this
Here buggy-cushion stuffin'—moss,
The teacher says it is.
And then he made a' old wood'-gun,
Set keerless-like, you know,
Acrost one shoulder—kindo' like
Big Foot, er Adam Poe—
Er, mayby, Simon Girty,
The dinged old Renegade!
Wooh! the old Snow-Man
That Noey Bixler made!
And there he stood, all fierce and grim,
A stern, heroic form:
What was the winter blast to him,
And what the driving storm?—
What wonder that the children pressed
Their faces at the pane
And scratched away the frost, in pride
To look on him again?—
What wonder that, with yearning bold,
Their all of love and care
Went warmest through the keenest cold
To that Snow-Man out there!
But the old Snow-Man—
What a dubious delight
He grew at last when Spring came on
And days waxed warm and bright.—
Alone he stood—all kith and kin
Of snow and ice were gone;—
Alone, with constant teardrops in
His eyes and glittering on
His thin, pathetic beard of black—
Grief in a hopeless cause!—
Hope—hope is for the man that dies—
What for the man that thaws! O Hero of a hero's make!—
Let marble melt and fade,
But never you—you old Snow-Man
That Noey Bixler made!

---

"LITTLE JACK JANITOR"

And there, in that ripe Summer-night, once more
A wintry coolness through the open door
And window seemed to touch each glowing face
Refreshingly; and, for a fleeting space,
The quickened fancy, through the fragrant air,
Saw snowflakes whirling where the roseleaves were,
And sounds of veriest jingling bells again
Were heard in tinkling spoons and glasses then.
Thus Uncle Mart's old poem sounded young
And crisp and fresh and clear as when first sung,
Away back in the wakening of Spring
When his rhyme and the robin, chorusing,
Rumored, in duo-fanfare, of the soon
Invading johnny-jump-ups, with platoon
On platoon of sweet-williams, marshaled fine
To blooméd blarings of the trumpet-vine.
The poet turned to whisperingly confer
A moment with "The Noted Traveler."
Then left the room, tripped up the stairs, and then
An instant later reappeared again,
Bearing a little, lacquered box, or chest,
Which, as all marked with curious interest,
He gave to the old Traveler, who in
One hand upheld it, pulling back his thin
Black lustre coat-sleeves, saying he had sent
Up for his "Magic Box," and that he meant
To test it there—especially to show
The Children. "It is empty now, you know."—
He humped it with his knuckles, so they heard
The hollow sound—"But lest it be inferred
It is not really empty, I will ask
Little Jack Janitor, whose pleasant task
It is to keep it ship-shape."
Then he tried
And rapped the little drawer in the side,
And called out sharply "Are you in there, Jack?"
And then a little, squeaky voice came back,—
"Of course I'm in here—ain't you got the key
Turned on me!"
Then the Traveler leisurely
Felt through his pockets, and at last took out
The smallest key they ever heard about!—
It,wasn't any longer than a pin:
And this at last he managed to fit in
The little keyhole, turned it, and then cried,
"Is everything swept out clean there inside?"
"Open the drawer and see!—Don't talk to much;
Or else," the little voice squeaked, "talk in Dutch—
You age me, asking questions!"
Then the man
Looked hurt, so that the little folks began
To feel so sorry for him, he put down
His face against the box and had to frown.—
"Come, sir!" he called,—"no impudence to me!—
You've swept out clean?"
"Open the drawer and see!"
And so he drew the drawer out: Nothing there,
But just the empty drawer, stark and bare.
He shoved it back again, with a shark click.—
"Ouch!" yelled the little voice—"un-snap it—quick!—
You've got my nose pinched in the crack!"
And then
The frightened man drew out the drawer again,
The little voice exclaiming, "Jeemi-nee!—
Say what you want, but please don't murder me!"
"Well, then," the man said, as he closed the drawer
With care, "I want some cotton-batting for
My supper! Have you got it?"
And inside,
All muffled like, the little voice replied,
"Open the drawer and see!"
And, sure enough,
He drew it out, filled with the cotton stuff.
He then asked for a candle to be brought
And held for him: and tuft by tuft he caught
And lit the cotton, and, while blazing, took
It in his mouth and ate it, with a look
Of purest satisfaction.
"Now," said he,
"I've eaten the drawer empty, let me see
What this is in my mouth:" And with both hands
He began drawing from his lips long strands
Of narrow silken ribbons, every hue
And tint;—and crisp they were and bright and new
As if just purchased at some Fancy-Store.
"And now, Bub, bring your cap," he said, "before
Something might happen!" And he stuffed the cap
Full of the ribbons. "There, my little chap,
Hold tight to them," he said, "and take them to
The ladies there, for they know what to do
With all such rainbow finery!"
He smiled
Half sadly, as it seemed, to see the child
Open his cap first to his mother..... There
Was not a ribbon in it anywhere!
"Jack Janitor!" the man said sternly through
The Magic Box—"Jack Janitor, did you Conceal those ribbons anywhere?"
"Well, yes,"
The little voice piped—"but you'd never guess
The place I hid 'em if you'd guess a year!"
"Well, won't you tell me?"
"Not until you clear
Your mean old conscience" said the voice, "and make
Me first do something for the Children's sake."
"Well, then, fill up the drawer," the Traveler said,
"With whitest white on earth and reddest red!—
Your terms accepted—Are you satisfied?"
"Open the drawer and see!" the voice replied.
"Why, bless my soul!"—the man said, as he drew
The contents of the drawer into view—
"It's level-full of candy!—Pass it 'round—
Jack Janitor shan't steal that, I'll be bound!"—
He raised and crunched a stick of it and smacked
His lips.—"Yes, that is candy, for a fact!—
And it's all yours!"
And how the children there
Lit into it!—O never anywhere
Was such a feast of sweetness!
"And now, then,"
The man said, as the empty drawer again
Slid to its place, he bending over it,—
"Now, then, Jack Janitor, before we quit
Our entertainment for the evening, tell
Us where you hid the ribbons—can't you?"
"Well,"
The squeaky little voice drawled sleepily—
"Under your old hat, maybe.—Look and see!"
All carefully the man took off his hat:
But there was not a ribbon under that.—
He shook his heavy hair, and all in vain
The old white hat—then put it on again:
"Now, tell me, honest, Jack, where did you hide
The ribbons?"
"Under your hat" the voice replied.—
"Mind! I said 'under' and not 'in' it.—Won't
You ever take the hint on earth?—or don't
You want to show folks where the ribbons at?—
Law! but I'm sleepy!—Under—unner your hat!"
Again the old man carefully took off
The empty hat, with an embarrassed cough,
Saying, all gravely to the children: "You
Must promise not to laugh—you'll all want to—
When you see where Jack Janitor has dared
To hide those ribbons—when he might have spared
My feelings.—But no matter!—Know the worst—
Here are the ribbons, as I feared at first."—
And, quick as snap of thumb and finger, there
The old man's head had not a sign of hair,
And in his lap a wig of iron-gray
Lay, stuffed with all that glittering array
Of ribbons ... "Take 'em to the ladies—Yes.
Good-night to everybody, and God bless
The Children."
In a whisper no one missed
The Hired Man yawned: "He's a vantrilloquist"

---

So gloried all the night Each trundle-bed
And pallet was enchanted—each child-head
Was packed with happy dreams. And long before
The dawn's first far-off rooster crowed, the snore
Of Uncle Mart was stilled, as round him pressed
The bare arms of the wakeful little guest
That he had carried home with him....
"I think,"
An awed voice said—"(No: I don't want a dwink.—
Lay still.)—I think 'The Noted Traveler' he
'S the inscrutibul-est man I ever see!"

[Footnote 1: Gilead—evidently.—[Editor.]