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James Whitcomb Riley - Bud`s Fairy-Tale
Work rating: Low

Some peoples thinks they ain`t no Fairies _now_
No more yet!--But they _is_, I bet! `Cause ef
They _wuzn`t_ Fairies, nen I` like to know
Who`d w`ite `bout Fairies in the books, an` tell
What Fairies _does_, an` how their _picture_ looks,
An` all an` ever`thing! W`y, ef they don`t
Be Fairies anymore, nen little boys
`U`d ist _sleep_ when they go to sleep an` wont
Have ist no dweams at all,--`Cause Fairies--_good_
Fairies--they`re a-purpose to make dweams!
But they _is_ Fairies--an` I _know_ they is!
`Cause one time wunst, when its all Summertime,
An` don`t haf to be no fires in the stove
Er fireplace to keep warm wiv--ner don`t haf
To wear old scwatchy flannen shirts at all,
An` aint no fweeze--ner cold--ner snow!--An`--an`
Old skweeky twees got all the gween leaves on
An` ist keeps noddin`, noddin` all the time,
Like they `uz lazy an` a-twyin` to go
To sleep an` couldn`t, `cause the wind won`t quit
A-blowin` in `em, an` the birds won`t stop
A-singin` so`s they _kin_.--But twees _don`t_ sleep,
I guess! But _little boys_ sleeps--an` _dweams_, too.--
An` that`s a sign they`s Fairies.

                    So, one time,
When I ben playin` "Store" wunst over in
The shed of their old stable, an` Ed Howard
He maked me quit a-bein` pardners, `cause
I dwinked the `tend-like sody-water up
An` et the shore-nuff cwackers.--W`y, nen I
Clumbed over in our garden where the gwapes
Wuz purt`-nigh ripe: An` I wuz ist a-layin`
There on th` old cwooked seat `at Pa maked in
Our arber,--an` so I `uz layin` there
A-whittlin` beets wiv my new dog-knife, an`
A-lookin` wite up through the twimbly leaves--
An` wuzn`t `sleep at all!--An`-sir!--first thing
You know, a little _Fairy_ hopped out there!
A _leetle-teenty Fairy!--hope-may-die!_
An` he look` down at me, he did--An` he
Ain`t bigger`n a _yellerbird!_--an` he
Say "Howdy-do!" he did--an` I could _hear_
Him--ist as _plain!_

                    Nen _I_ say "Howdy-do!"
An` he say "_I`m_ all hunkey, Nibsey; how
Is _your_ folks comin` on?"

                    An` nen I say
"My name ain`t `_Nibsey_,` neever--my name`s _Bud_.
An` what`s _your_ name?" I says to him.

                    An`he
Ist laugh an` say "`_Bud`s_` awful _funny_ name!"
An` he ist laid back on a big bunch o` gwapes
An` laugh` an` laugh`, he did--like somebody
`Uz tick-el-un his feet!

                    An` nen I say--
"What`s _your_ name," nen I say, "afore you bust
Yo`-se`f a-laughin` `bout _my_ name?" I says.
An` nen he dwy up laughin`--kindo` mad--
An` say "W`y, _my_ name`s _Squidjicum_," he says.
An` nen _I_ laugh an` say--"_Gee!_ what a name!"
An` when I make fun of his name, like that,
He ist git awful mad an` spunky, an`
`Fore you know, he ist gwabbed holt of a vine--
A big long vine `at`s danglin` up there, an`
He ist helt on wite tight to that, an` down
He swung quick past my face, he did, an` ist
Kicked at me hard`s he could!

                    But I`m too quick
Fer _Mr. Squidjicum!_ I ist weached out
An` ketched him, in my hand--an` helt him, too,
An` _squeezed_ him, ist like little wobins when
They can`t fly yet an` git flopped out their nest.
An` nen I turn him all wound over, an`
Look at him clos`t, you know--wite clos`t,--`cause ef
He _is_ a Fairy, w`y, I want to see
The _wings_ he`s got--But he`s dwessed up so fine
`At I can`t _see_ no wings.--An` all the time
He`s twyin` to kick me yet: An` so I take
F`esh holts an` _squeeze_ agin--an` harder, too;
An` I says, "_Hold up, Mr. Squidjicum!_--
You`re kickin` the w`ong man!" I says; an` nen
I ist _squeeze` him_, purt`-nigh my _best_, I did--
An` I heerd somepin` bust!--An` nen he cwied
An` says, "You better look out what you`re doin`!--
You` bust` my spiderweb-suspen`ners, an`
You` got my woseleaf-coat all cwinkled up
So`s I can`t go to old Miss Hoodjicum`s
Tea-party, `s`afternoon!"

                    An` nen I says--
"Who`s `old Miss Hoodjicum`?" I says

                    An`he
Says "Ef you lemme loose I`ll tell you."

                    So
I helt the little skeezics `way fur out
In one hand--so`s he can`t jump down t` th` ground
Wivout a-gittin` all stove up: an` nen
I says, "You`re loose now.--Go ahead an` tell
`Bout the `tea-party` where you`re goin` at
So awful fast!" I says.

                    An` nen he say,--
"No use to _tell_ you `bout it, `cause you won`t
Believe it, `less you go there your own se`f
An` see it wiv your own two eyes!" he says.
An` _he_ says: "Ef you lemme _shore-nuff_ loose,
An` p`omise `at you`ll keep wite still, an` won`t
Tetch nothin` `at you see--an` never tell
Nobody in the world--an` lemme loose--
W`y, nen I`ll _take_ you there!"

                    But I says, "Yes
An` ef I let you loose, you`ll _run!_" I says.
An` he says "No, I won`t!--I hope may die!"
Nen I says, "Cwoss your heart you won`t!"

                    An`he
Ist cwoss his heart; an` nen I weach an` set
The little feller up on a long vine--
An` he `uz so tickled to git loose agin,
He gwab` the vine wiv boff his little hands
An` ist take an` turn in, he did, an` skin
`Bout forty-`leven cats!

                    Nen when he git
Through whirlin` wound the vine, an` set on top
Of it agin, w`y nen his "woseleaf-coat"
He bwag so much about, it`s ist all tored
Up, an` ist hangin` strips an` rags--so he
Look like his Pa`s a dwunkard. An` so nen
When he see what he`s done--a-actin` up
So smart,--he`s awful mad, I guess; an` ist
Pout out his lips an` twis` his little face
Ist ugly as he kin, an` set an` tear
His whole coat off--an` sleeves an` all.--An` nen
He wad it all togevver an` ist _throw_
It at me ist as hard as he kin dwive!

An` when I weach to ketch him, an` `uz goin`
To give him `nuvver squeezin`, _he ist flewed
Clean up on top the arber!_--`Cause, you know,
They _wuz_ wings on him--when he tored his _coat_
Clean off--they _wuz_ wings _under there_. But they
Wuz purty wobbly-like an` wouldn`t work
Hardly at all--`Cause purty soon, when I
Throwed clods at him, an` sticks, an` got him shooed
Down off o` there, he come a-floppin` down
An` lit k-bang! on our old chicken-coop,
An` ist laid there a-whimper`n` like a child!
An` I tiptoed up wite clos`t, an` I says "What`s
The matter wiv ye, Squidjicum?"

                    An`he
Says: "Dog-gone! when my wings gits stwaight agin,
Where you all _cwumpled_ `em," he says, "I bet
I`ll ist fly clean away an` won`t take you
To old Miss Hoodjicum`s at all!" he says.
An` nen I ist weach out wite quick, I did,
An` gwab the sassy little snipe agin--
Nen tooked my topstwing an` tie down his wings
So`s he _can`t_ fly, `less`n I want him to!
An` nen I says: "Now, Mr. Squidjicum,
You better ist light out," I says, "to old
Miss Hoodjicum`s, an` show _me_ how to git
There, too," I says; "er ef you don`t," I says,
"I`ll climb up wiv you on our buggy-shed
An` push you off!" I says.

                    An nen he say
All wight, he`ll show me there; an` tell me nen
To set him down wite easy on his feet,
An` loosen up the stwing a little where
It cut him under th` arms. An` nen he says,
"Come on!" he says; an` went a-limpin` `long
The garden-path--an` limpin` `long an` `long
Tel--purty soon he come on `long to where`s
A grea`-big cabbage-leaf. An` he stoop down
An` say "Come on inunder here wiv me!"
So _I_ stoop down an` crawl inunder there,
Like he say.

                    An` inunder there`s a grea`
Big clod, they is--a awful grea` big clod!
An` nen he says, "_Roll this-here clod away!_"
An` so I roll` the clod away. An` nen
It`s all wet, where the dew`z inunder where
The old clod wuz,--an` nen the Fairy he
Git on the wet-place: Nen he say to me
"Git on the wet-place, too!" An` nen he say,
"Now hold yer breff an` shet yer eyes!" he says,
"Tel I say _Squinchy-winchy!_" Nen he say--
Somepin _in Dutch_, I guess.--An` nen I felt
Like we `uz sinkin` down--an` sinkin` down!--
Tel purty soon the little Fairy weach
An` pinch my nose an` yell at me an` say,
"_Squinchy-winchy! Look wherever you please!_"
Nen when I looked--Oh! they `uz purtyest place
Down there you ever saw in all the World!--
They `uz ist _flowers_ an` _woses_--yes, an` _twees_
Wiv _blossoms_ on an` _big ripe apples_ boff!
An` butterflies, they wuz--an` hummin`-birds--
An` _yellow_birds an` _blue_birds--yes, an` _red!_--
An` ever`wheres an` all awound `uz vines
Wiv ripe p`serve-pears on `em!--Yes, an` all
An` ever`thing `at`s ever gwowin` in
A garden--er canned up--all ripe at wunst!--
It wuz ist like a garden--only it
`Uz _little_ tit o` garden--`bout big wound
As ist our twun`el-bed is.--An` all wound
An` wound the little garden`s a gold fence--
An` little gold gate, too--an` ash-hopper
`At`s all gold, too--an` ist full o` gold ashes!
An` wite in th` middle o` the garden wuz
A little gold house, `at`s ist `bout as big
As ist a bird-cage is: An` _in_ the house
They `uz whole-lots _more_ Fairies there--`cause I
Picked up the little house, an `peeked in at
The winders, an` I see `em all in there
Ist _buggin_` wound! An` Mr. Squidjicum
He twy to make me quit, but I gwab _him_,
An` poke him down the chimbly, too, I did!--
An` y`ort to see _him_ hop out `mongst `em there!
Ist like he `uz the boss an` ist got back!--
_"Hain`t ye got on them-air dew-dumplin`s yet?"_
He says.

              An` they says no.

                    An` nen he says
"_Better git at `em nen!_" he says, "_wite quick--
`Cause old Miss Hoodjicum`s a-comin`!_"

                    Nen
They all set wound a little gold tub--an`
All `menced a-peelin` dewdwops, ist like they
`Uz _peaches_.--An`, it looked so funny, I
Ist laugh` out loud, an` _dwopped_ the little house,--
An` `t busted like a soap-bubble!--An`t skeered
Me so, I--I--I--I,--it skeered me so,
I--ist _waked_ up.--No! I _ain`t_ ben _asleep_
An` _dream_ it all, like _you_ think,--but it`s shore
Fer-certain _fact_ an` cwoss my heart it is!
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