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James Whitcomb Riley - A Liz Town Humorist
Work rating: Low

Settin` round the stove, last night,
Down at Wess`s store, was me
And Mart Strimples, Tunk, and White,
And Doc Bills, and two er three
Fellers o` the Mudsock tribe
No use tryin` to describe!
And says Doc, he says, says he--,
"Talkin` `bout good things to eat,
Ripe mushmillon`s hard to beat!"

I chawed on. And Mart he `lowed
Wortermillon beat the mush--.
"Red," he says, "and juicy-- Hush--!
I`ll jes` leave it to the crowd!"
Then a Mudsock chap, says he--,
"Punkin`s good enough fer me--
Punkin pies, I mean," he says--,
Them beats millons--! What say, Wess?

I chawed on. And Wess says--, "Well,
You jes` fetch that wife of mine
All yer wortermillon-rine--,
And she`ll bile it down a spell--
In with sorghum, I suppose,
And what else, Lord only knows--!
But I`m here to tell all hands
Them p`serves meets my demands!"

I chawed on. And White he says--,
"Well, I`ll jes` stand, in with Wess--
I`m no hog!" And Tunk says--, "I
Guess I`ll pastur` out on pie
With the Mudsock boys!" says he;
"Now what`s yourn?" he says to me:
I chawed on-- fer-- quite a spell
Then I speaks up, slow and dry--,
Jes` tobacker!" I-says-I--.
And you`d ort o` heerd `em yell!
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