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James Whitcomb Riley - Writin` Back To The Home-Folks
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My dear old friends--It jes beats all,
  The way you write a letter
So`s ever` _last_ line beats the _first_,
  And ever` _next_-un`s better!--
W`y, ever` fool-thing you putt down
  You make so inte_rest_in`,
A feller, readin` of `em all,
  Can`t tell which is the _best_-un.

It`s all so comfortin` and good,
  `Pears-like I almost _hear_ ye
And git more sociabler, you know,
  And hitch my cheer up near ye
And jes smile on ye like the sun
  Acrosst the whole per-rairies
In Aprile when the thaw`s begun
  And country couples marries.

It`s all so good-old-fashioned like
  To _talk_ jes like we`re _thinkin`_,
Without no hidin` back o` fans
  And giggle-un and winkin`,
Ner sizin` how each-other`s dressed--
  Like some is allus doin`,--
"_Is_ Marthy Ellen`s basque ben _turned_
  Er shore-enough a new-un!"--

Er "ef Steve`s city-friend haint jes
  `A _lee_tle kindo`-sorto`"--
Er "wears them-air blame eye-glasses
  Jes `cause he hadn`t ort to?"
And so straight on, _dad-libitum_,
  Tel all of us feels, _some_way,
Jes like our "comp`ny" wuz the best
  When we git up to come `way!

That`s why I like _old_ friends like you,--
  Jes `cause you`re so _abidin`_.--
Ef I was built to live "_fer keeps_,"
  My principul residin`
Would be amongst the folks `at kep`
  Me allus _thinkin`_ of `em,
And sorto` eechin` all the time
  To tell `em how I love `em.--

Sich folks, you know, I jes love so
  I wouldn`t live without `em,
Er couldn`t even drap asleep
  But what I _dreamp`_ about `em,--
And ef we minded God, I guess
  We`d _all_ love one-another
Jes like one fam`bly,--me and Pap
  And Madaline and Mother.
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