Little Orphant Annie
By James Whitcomb Riley
Little Orphant Annie's come to
our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers
up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the
porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake
the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;
An' all us other children,
when the supper-things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire
an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin' to the witch-tales
'at Annie tells about,
An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits
you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!
Wunst they wuz a little boy
wouldn't say his prayers,--
An' when he went to bed at
night, away up-stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler,
an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when they turn't the
kivvers down, he wuzn't there at all!
An' they seeked him in the
rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press,
An' seeked him up the
chimbly-flue, an' ever'-wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found wuz
thist his pants an' roundabout:--
An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!
An' one time a little girl 'ud
allus laugh an' grin,
An' make fun of ever' one, an'
all her blood-an'-kin;
An' wunst, when they was
"company," an' ole folks wuz there,
She mocked 'em an' shocked
'em, an' said she didn't care!
An' thist as she kicked her
heels, an' turn't to run an' hide,
They wuz two great big Black
Things a-standin' by her side,
An' they snatched her through
the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about!
An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!
An' little Orphant Annie says,
when the blaze is blue,
An' the lamp-wick sputters,
an' the wind goes woo-oo!
An' you hear the crickets
quit, an' the moon is gray,
An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew
is all squenched away,--
You better mind yer parunts,
an' yer teachurs fond an' dear,
An' churish them 'at loves
you, an' dry the orphant's tear,
An' he'p the pore an' needy
ones 'at clusters all about,
Er the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!
This is especially
effective when read aloud in a low, spooky voice. Find a child or two and thrill ’em!
Last Wednesday a small
group of us from St. George’s Episcopal Church rode in two cars down to
LaCrosse, Wisconsin, to the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe. (If you want an interesting story, look up
the facts of that visitation, which happened in Mexico City back in the 1500s.) We drove down along the Mississippi
on the Wisconsin side, which I’d never done
before. It was so absolutely gorgeous a ride it
took my breath away. Rising hills on the left covered with small meadows and large forests ablaze with autumn colors and
here and there small, quaint towns; and on the right a broad, winding river. We came home on the Minnesota side, which was almost as
beautiful and lined here and there with tall bluffs and newer towns. I drove my husband’s old Lexus, which was
like driving a couch, with its tan leather seats and luxurious suspension. The shrine, by the way, is set in eighty
acres of forested land with a number of buildings, including a big, magnificent
church.
We’re leaving Thursday
morning for Indianapolis, to attend Magna cum
Murder, sponsored by Ball
State University,
at The Columbia Club Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Then Ellen will fly home and I’ll go to Marshall, Illinois,
for a Pulver family reunion. There will
be at least thirty people in attendance, some I know, and some I’ve never
met. (A setup for a great murder mystery
if ever there was one.)
1 comment:
Your ride sounds lovely. Enjoy Magna Cum Murder.
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