What makes you come here fer, Mister,
So much to our house?—Say?
Come to see our big sister!—
An' Charley he says 'at you kissed her
An' he ketched you, thuther day!—
Didn' you, Charley?—But we p'omised Belle
And crossed our heart to never to tell—
'Cause she gived us some o' them-er
Chawk'lut-drops 'at you bringed to her!
Charley he's my little b'uther—
An' we has a-mostest fun,
Don't we, Charley?—Our Muther,
Whenever we whips one-anuther,
Tries to whip us—an' we run—
Don't we, Charley?—An' nen, bime-by,
Nen she gives us cake—an' pie—
Don't she, Charley?—when we come in
An' p'omise never to do it agin!
He's named Charley.—I'm Willie—
An' I'm got the purtiest name!
But Uncle Bob he calls me "Billy"—
Don't he, Charley?—'Nour filly
We named "Billy," the same
Ist like me! An' our Ma said
'At "Bob put foolishnuss into our head!"—
Didn' she, Charley?—An' she don't know
Much about boys!—'Cause Bob said so!
Baby's a funniest feller!
Naint no hair on his head—
Is they, Charley? It's meller
Wite up there! An' ef Belle er
Us ask wuz we that way, Ma said,—
"Yes; an' yer Pa's head wuz soft as that,
An' it's that way yet!"—An' Pa grabs his hat
An' says, "Yes, childern, she's right about Pa—
'Cause that's the reason he married yer Ma!"
An' our Ma says 'at "Belle couldn'
Ketch nothin 'at all but ist 'bows!'"
An' Pa says 'at "you're soft as puddun!"—
An Uncle Bob says "you're a good-un—
'Cause he can tell by yer nose!"—
Didn' he, Charley? And when Belle'll play
In the poller on th' pianer, some day,
Bob makes up funny songs about you,
Till she gits mad—like he wants her to!
Our sister Fanny, she's 'leven
Years old. 'At's mucher 'an I—
Ain't it, Charley?... I'm seven!—
But our sister Fanny's in Heaven!
Nere's where you go ef you die!—
Don't you, Charley? Nen you has wings—
Ist like Fanny!—an' purtiest things!—
Don't you, Charley? An' nen you can fly—
Ist fly—an' ever'thing!... Wisht I'd die!
James Whitcomb Riley.
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