380 Chapters
Medium 9780253022790

Life-Lesson, A

James Whitcomb Riley Indiana University Press ePub

THERE! little girl; don’t cry!

They have broken your doll, I know;

And your tea-set blue,

And your play-house, too,

Are things of the long ago;

But childish troubles will soon pass by.—

There! little girl; don’t cry!

There! little girl; don’t cry!

They have broken your slate, I know;

And the glad, wild ways

Of your school-girl days

Are things of the long ago;

But life and love will soon come by.—

There! little girl; don’t cry!

There! little girl; don’t cry!

They have broken your heart, I know;

And the rainbow gleams

Of your youthful dreams

Are things of the long ago;

But Heaven holds all for which you sigh.—

There! little girl; don’t cry!

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Medium 9780253022790

Runaway Boy, The

James Whitcomb Riley Indiana University Press ePub

WUNST I sassed my Pa, an’ he

Won’t stand that, an’ punished me,—

Nen when he was gone that day,

I slipped out an’ runned away.

I tooked all my copper-cents,

An’ clumbed over our back fence

In the jimpson-weeds ’at growed

Ever’where all down the road.

Nen I got out there, an’ nen

I runned some—an’ runned again

When I met a man ’at led

A big cow ’at shooked her head.

I went down a long, long lane

Where was little pigs a-play’n’;

An’ a grea’-big pig went “Booh!”

An’ jumped up, an’ skeered me too.

Nen I scampered past, an’ they

Was somebody hollered “Hey!”

An’ I ist looked ever’where,

An’ they was nobody there.

I Want to, but I’m ’fraid to try

To go back. . . . An’ by-an’-by

Somepin’ hurts my throat inside—

An’ I want my Ma—an’ cried.

Nen a grea’-big girl come through

Where’s a gate, an’ telled me who

Am I? an’ ef I tell where

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Sudden Shower, A

James Whitcomb Riley Indiana University Press ePub

BAREFOOTED boys scud up the street,

Or skurry under sheltering sheds;

And schoolgirl faces, pale and sweet,

Gleam from the shawls about their heads.

Doors bang; and mother-voices call

From alien homes; and rusty gates

Are slammed; and high above it all,

The thunder grim reverberates.

And then, abrupt,—the rain! the rain!—

The earth lies gasping; and the eyes

Behind the streaming window-pane

Smile at the trouble of the skies.

The highway smokes; sharp echoes ring;

The cattle bawl and cowbells clank;

And into town comes galloping

The farmer’s horse, with streaming flank.

The swallow dips beneath the eaves,

And flirts his plumes and folds his wings;

And under the catawba leaves

The caterpillar curls and clings.

The bumble-bee is pelted down

The wet stem of the hollyhock;

And sullenly, in spattered brown,

The cricket leaps the garden walk.

Within, the baby claps his hands

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Medium 9781574415643

Sibling Gothic

Stefanie Wortman University of Northern Texas PDF
Medium 9781574413090

Girl Under Bug Zapper

Caki Wilkinson University of North Texas Press PDF

Girl Under Bug Zapper

This haywire night, she’s back from church with neighbors, plain-faced Pentecostal types whose scowls cut through the windshield’s smears when her door slammed, no thank you ma’am or wave, who’d still be scowling, could they see she kowtows on rotten boards, the porch suffused with purple-blues no regal soul would praise, to maim a wayward gypsy moth.

She likes to watch them die, the stunned and stunted, slugs betrayed by falling salt, cicadas gutted, anthills razed like circus grounds after a hurricane, and while a kinder child might stray from incantations, cataclysmic winds of aerosol, or soda froth, her heart’s a mudcake shrunken in the sun.

Besides, she’s seen enough of them hooked onto eaves and storm doors, dull as leaves, and knows they’ll drop, spun from the shock of pain, or rapture, creatures slain in spirit.

Besides, she’d rather celebrate the world unhinged, its crooked scales and stakes, party-of-one who plucks these wings, confetti in her folded palms. Frail things.

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