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James Whitcomb Riley - Up And Down Old Brandywine
Work rating: Low

Up and down old Brandywine,
    In the days `at`s past and gone--
With a dad-burn hook-and line
    And a saplin` pole--swawn!
       I`ve had more fun, to the square
       Inch, than ever ANYwhere!
       Heaven to come can`t discount MINE
       Up and down old Brandywine!

Hain`t no sense in WISHIN`--yit
    Wisht to goodness I COULD jes
"Gee" the blame` world round and git
    Back to that old happiness!--
        Kindo` drive back in the shade
        "The old Covered Bridge" there laid
        `Crosst the crick, and sorto` soak
        My soul over, hub and spoke!

Honest, now!--it hain`t no DREAM
    `At I`m wantin`,--but THE FAC`S
As they wuz; the same old stream,
    And the same old times, i jacks!--
        Gim me back my bare feet--and
        Stonebruise too!--And scratched and tanned!
        And let hottest dog-days shine
        Up and down old Brandywine!

In and on betwixt the trees
    `Long the banks, pour down yer noon,
Kindo` curdled with the breeze
    And the yallerhammer`s tune;
        And the smokin`, chokin` dust
        O` the turnpike at its wusst--
        SATURD`YS, say, when it seems
        Road`s jes jammed with country teams!--

Whilse the old town, fur away
    `Crosst the hazy pastur`-land,
Dozed-like in the heat o` day
    Peaceful` as a hired hand.
        Jolt the gravel th`ough the floor
        O` the old bridge!--grind and roar
        With yer blame percession-line--
        Up and down old Brandywine!

Souse me and my new straw-hat
    Off the foot-log!--what _I_ care?--
Fist shoved in the crown o` that--
    Like the old Clown ust to wear.
        Wouldn`t swop it fer a` old
        Gin-u-wine raal crown o` gold!--
        Keep yer KING ef you`ll gim me
        Jes the boy I ust to be!

Spill my fishin`-worms! er steal
     My best "goggle-eye!"--but you
Can`t lay hands on joys I feel
     Nibblin` like they ust to do!
         So, in memory, to-day
         Same old ripple lips away
         At my "cork" and saggin` line,
         Up and down old Bradywine!

There the logs is, round the hill,
    Where "Old Irvin" ust to lift
Out sunfish from daylight till
    Dewfall--`fore he`d leave "The Drift"
         And give US a chance--and then
         Kindo` fish back home again,
         Ketchin` `em jes left and right
         Where WE hadn`t got "a bite!"

Er, `way windin` out and in,--
    Old path th`ough the iurnweeds
And dog-fennel to yer chin--
    Then come suddent, th`ough the reeds
         And cat-tails, smack into where
         Them--air woods--hogs ust to scare
         Us clean `crosst the County-line,
         Up and down old Brandywine!

But the dim roar o` the dam
    It `ud coax us furder still
To`rds the old race, slow and ca`m,
    Slidin` on to Huston`s mill--
         Where, I`spect, "The Freeport crowd"
         Never WARMED to us er `lowed
         We wuz quite so overly
         Welcome as we aimed to be.

Still it `peared like ever`thing--
    Fur away from home as THERE--
Had more RELISH-like, i jing!--
    Fish in stream, er bird in air!
         O them rich old bottom-lands,
         Past where Cowden`s Schoolhouse stands!
         Wortermelons--MASTER-MINE!
         Up and down old Brandywine!

And sich pop-paws!--Lumps o` raw
    Gold and green,--jes oozy th`ough
With ripe yaller--like you`ve saw
    Custard-pie with no crust to:
         And jes GORGES o` wild plums,
         Till a feller`d suck his thumbs
         Clean up to his elbows! MY!--
         ME SOME MORE ER LEM ME DIE!

Up and down old Brandywine! ...
    Stripe me with pokeberry-juice!--
Flick me with a pizenvine
    And yell "Yip!" and lem me loose!
         --Old now as I then wuz young,
         `F I could sing as I HAVE sung,
         Song `ud surely ring DEE-VINE
         Up and down old Brandywine!
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