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James Whitcomb Riley - The Funny Little fellow
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`Twas a Funny Little Fellow
    Of the very purest type,
For he had a heart as mellow
    As an apple over ripe;
And the brightest little twinkle
    When a funny thing occurred,
And the lightest little tinkle
    Of a laugh you ever heard!

His smile was like the glitter
    Of the sun in tropic lands,
And his talk a sweeter twitter
    Than the swallow understands;
Hear him sing--and tell a story--
    Snap a joke--ignite a pun,--
`Twas a capture--rapture--glory,
    An explosion--all in one!

Though he hadn`t any money--
    That condiment which tends
To make a fellow "honey"
    For the palate of his friends;--
Sweet simples he compounded--
    Sovereign antidotes for sin
Or taint,--a faith unbounded
    That his friends were genuine.

He wasn`t honored, maybe--
    For his songs of praise were slim,--
Yet I never knew a baby
    That wouldn`t crow for him;
I never knew a mother
    But urged a kindly claim
Upon him as a brother,
    At the mention of his name.

The sick have ceased their sighing,
    And have even found the grace
Of a smile when they were dying
    As they looked upon his face;
And I`ve seen his eyes of laughter
    Melt in tears that only ran
As though, swift-dancing after,
    Came the Funny Little Man.

He laughed away the sorrow
    And he laughed away the gloom
We are all so prone to borrow
    From the darkness of the tomb;
And he laughed across the ocean
    Of a happy life, and passed,
With a laugh of glad emotion,
    Into Paradise at last.

And I think the Angels knew him,
    And had gathered to await
His coming, and run to him
    Through the widely opened Gate,
With their faces gleaming sunny
    For his laughter-loving sake,
And thinking, "What a funny
    Little Angel he will make!"
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