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قراءة كتاب A Spray of Kentucky Pine Placed at the Feet of the Dead Poet James Whitcomb Riley

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‏اللغة: English
A Spray of Kentucky Pine
Placed at the Feet of the Dead Poet James Whitcomb Riley

A Spray of Kentucky Pine Placed at the Feet of the Dead Poet James Whitcomb Riley

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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class="i2">'Peared-like, he was more satisfied

Jes' lookin' at Jim

And likin' him all to hisse'f-like, see?

'Cause he was jes' wrapped up in him!

And over and over I mind the day

The old man come and stood round in the way

While we was drillin', a-watchin' Jim—

And down at the deepot a-heerin' him say,

"Well, good-by, Jim:

Take keer of yourse'f!"

Never was nothin' about the farm

Disting'ished Jim;

Neighbors all ust to wonder why

The old man 'peered wrapped up in him;

But when Cap. Biggler he writ back

'At Jim was the bravest boy we had

In the whole dern rigiment, white er black.

And his fighten' good as his farmin' bad—

'At he had led, with a bullet clean

Bored through his thigh, and carried the flag

Through the bloodiest battle you ever seen,

The old man wound up a letter to him

'At Cap. read to us, 'at said: "Tell Jim

Good-by,

And take keer of hisse'f!"

Jim come home jes' long enough

To take the whim

'At he'd like to go back in the calvery—

And the old man jes' wrapped up in him!

Jim 'lowed 'at he'd had sich luck afore,

Guessed he'd tackle her three years more.

And the old man give him a colt he'd raised,

And follered him over to Camp Ben Wade,

And laid around fer a week er so,

Watchin' Jim on dress-parade—

Tel finally he rid away,

And last he heerd was the old man say,

"Well, good-by, Jim:

Take keer of yourse'f!"

Tuk the papers, the old man did,

A-watchin' fer Jim—

Fully believin' he'd make his mark

Some way—jes' wrapped up in him!—

And many a time the word 'u'd come

'At stirred him up like the tap of a drum—

At Petersburg, fer instunce, where

Jim rid right into their cannons there,

And tuk 'em, and p'inted 'em t'other way,

And socked it home to the boys in gray,

As they scooted fer timber, and on and on—

Jim a lieutenant and one arm gone,

And the old man's words in his mind all day,—

"Well, good-by, Jim:

Take keer of yourse'f!"

Think of a private now, perhaps,

We'll say like Jim,

'At's clumb clean up to the shoulder-straps

And the old man jes' wrapped up in him!

Think of him—with the war plum, through.

And the glorious old Red-White-and-Blue

A-laughin' the news down over Jim,

And the old man bendin' over him—

The surgeon turin' away with tears

'At hadn't leaked for years and years,

As the hand of the dyin' boy clung to

His father's, the old voice in his ears,—

"Well, good-by, Jim:

Take keer of yourse'f!"










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