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James Whitcomb Riley - The Happy Little Cripple
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I`m thist a little cripple boy, an` never goin` to grow
An` get a great big man at all!--`cause Aunty told me so.
When I was thist a baby onc`t, I falled out of the bed
An` got "The Curv`ture of the Spine"--`at`s what the Doctor said.
I never had no Mother nen--fer my Pa runned away
An` dassn`t come back here no more--`cause he was drunk one day
An` stobbed a man in thish-ere town, an` couldn`t pay his fine!
An` nen my Ma she died--an` I got "Curv`ture of the Spine!"

I`m nine years old! An` you can`t guess how much I weigh, I bet!--
Last birthday I weighed thirty-three!--An` I weigh thirty yet!
I`m awful little fer my size--I`m purt` nigh littler `nan
Some babies is!--an` neighbers all calls me "The Little Man!"
An` Doc one time he laughed an` said: "I `spect, first thing you know,
You`ll have a little spike-tail coat an` travel with a show!"
An` nen I laughed--till I looked round an` Aunty was a-cryin`--
Sometimes she acts like that, `cause I got "Curv`ture of the Spine."

I set--while Aunty`s washin`--on my little long-leg stool,
An` watch the little boys an` girls a-skippin` by to school;
An` I peck on the winder, an` holler out an` say:
"Who wants to fight The Little Man `at dares you all today?"
An`, nen the boys climbs on the fence, an` little girls peeks through,
An` they all says: "Cause you`re so big, you think we`re `feared o` you!"
An` nen they yell, an` shake their fist at me, like I shake mine--
They`re thist in fun, you know, `cause I got "Curv`ture of the Spine!"

At evening, when the ironin`s done, an` Aunty`s fixed the fire,
An` filled an` lit the lamp, an` trimmed the wick an` turned it higher,
An` fetched the wood all in fer night, an` locked the kitchen door,
An` stuffed the ole crack where the wind blows in up through the floor--
She sets the kittle on the coals, an` biles an` makes the tea,
An` fries the liver an` the mush, an` cooks a egg fer me;
An` sometimes--when I cough so hard--her elderberry wine
Don`t go so bad fer little boys with "Curv`ture of the Spine!"

But Aunty`s all so childish-like on my account, you see,
I`m `most afeard she`ll be took down--an` `at`s what bothers me!--
`Cause ef my good old Aunty ever would git sick an` die,
I don`t know what she`d do in heaven--till _I_ come, by an` by:--
Fer she`s so ust to all my ways, an` ever`thing, you know,
An` no one there like me, to nuss an` worry over so!--
`Cause all the little childerns there`s so straight an` strong an` fine,
They`s nary angel `bout the place with "Curv`ture of the Spine!"
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