What Chris'mas Fetched The Wigginses.

Wintertime, er Summertime,         Of late years I notice I'm,         Kindo'-like, more subjec' to         What the weather is.    Now, you         Folks 'at lives in town, I s'pose,         Thinks its bully when it snows;         But the chap 'at chops and hauls         Yer wood fer ye, and then stalls,         And snapps tuggs and swingletrees,         And then has to walk er freeze,         Haint so much "stuck on" the snow         As stuck in it - Bless ye, no! -         When its packed, and sleighin's good,         And church in the neighborhood,         Them 'at's got their girls, I guess,         Takes 'em, likely, more er less,         Tell the plain facts o' the case,         No men-folks about our place         On'y me and Pap - and he         'Lows 'at young folks' company         Allus made him sick!    So I         Jes don't want, and jes don't try!         Chinkypin, the dad-burn town,         'S too fur off to loaf aroun'         Either day er night - and no         Law compellin' me to go! -         'Less 'n some Old-Settlers' Day,         Er big-doin's thataway -         Then, to tell the p'inted fac',         I've went more so's to come back         By old Guthrie's 'still-house, where         Minors has got licker there -         That's pervidin' we could show 'em         Old folks sent fer it from home!         Visit roun' the neighbors some,         When the boys wants me to come. -         Coon-hunt with 'em; er set traps         Fer mussrats; er jes, perhaps,         Lay in roun' the stove, you know,         And parch corn, and let her snow!         Mostly, nights like these, you'll be         (Ef you' got a writ fer me)         Ap' to skeer me up, I guess,         In about the Wigginses.         Nothin' roun' our place to keep         Me at home - with Pap asleep         'Fore it's dark; and Mother in         Mango pickles to her chin;         And the girls, all still as death,         Piecin' quilts. - Sence I drawed breath         Twenty year' ago, and heerd         Some girls whispern' so's it 'peared         Like they had a row o' pins         In their mouth - right there begins         My first rickollections, built         On that-air blame old piece-quilt!         Summertime, it's jes the same -         'Cause I've noticed, - and I claim,         As I said afore, I'm more         Subjec' to the weather, shore,         'Proachin' my majority,         Than I ever ust to be!         Callin' back last Summer, say, -         Don't seem hardly past away -         With night closin' in, and all         S' lonesome-like in the dew-fail:         Bats - ad-drat their ugly muggs! -         Flickern' by; and lightnin'-bugs         Huckstern' roun' the airly night         Little sickly gasps o' light; -         Whip-poor-wills, like all possessed,         Moanin' out their mournfullest; -         Frogs and katydids and things         Jes clubs in and sings and sings         Their ding-dangdest! - Stock's all fed,         And Pap's washed his feet fer bed; -         Mother and the girls all down         At the milk-shed, foolin' roun' -         No wunder 'at I git blue,         And lite out - and so would you!         I caint stay aroun' no place         Whur they haint no livin' face: -         'Crost the fields and thue the gaps         Of the hills they's friends, perhaps,         Waitin' somers, 'at kin be         Kindo' comfertin' to me!         Neighbors all 'is plenty good,         Scattered thue this neighberhood;         Yit, of all, I like to jes         Drap in on the Wigginses. -         Old man, and old lady too,         'Pear-like, makes so much o' you - ,         Least, they've allus pampered me         Like one of the fambily. -         The boys, too, 's all thataway -         Want you jes to come and stay; -         Price, and Chape, and Mandaville,         Poke, Chasteen, and "Catfish Bill" -         Poke's the runt of all the rest,         But he's jes the beatinest         Little schemer, fer fourteen,         Anybody ever seen! -         "Like his namesake," old man claims,         "Jeems K. Poke, the first o' names!         Full o' tricks and jokes - and you         Never know what Poke's go' do!"         Genius, too, that-air boy is,         With them awk'ard hands o' his:         Gits this blame pokeberry-juice,         Er some stuff, fer ink - and goose-         Quill pen-p'ints:    And then he'll draw         Dogdest pictures yevver saw!         Er make deers and eagles good         As a writin'-teacher could!         Then they's two twin boys they've riz         Of old Coonrod Wigginses         'At's deceast - and glad of it,         'Cause his widder's livin' yit!         Course the boys is mostly jes'         Why I go to Wigginses. - -         Though Melviney, sometimes, she         Gits her slate and algebry         And jes' sets there ciphern' thue         Sums old Ray hisse'f caint do! -         Jes' sets there, and tilts her chair         Forreds tel, 'pear-like, her hair         Jes' spills in her lap - and then         She jes' dips it up again         With her hands, as white, I swan,         As the apern she's got on!         Talk o' hospitality! -         Go to Wigginses with me -         Overhet, or froze plum thue,         You'll find welcome waitin' you: -         Th'ow out yer tobacker 'fore         You set foot acrost that floor, -         "Got to eat whatever's set -         Got to drink whatever's wet!"         Old man's sentimuns - them's his - -         And means jes the best they is!         Then he lights his pipe; and she,         The old lady, presen'ly         She lights her'n; and Chape and Poke.         I haint got none, ner don't smoke, -         (In the crick afore their door -         Sorto so's 'at I'd be shore -         Drownded mine one night and says         "I won't smoke at Wigginses!")         Price he's mostly talkin' 'bout         Politics, and "thieves turned out" -         What he's go' to be, ef he         Ever "gits there" - and "we'll see!" -         Poke he 'lows they's blame few men         Go' to hold their breath tel then!         Then Melviney smiles, as she         Goes on with her algebry,         And the clouds clear, and the room's         Sweeter 'n crabapple-blooms!         (That Melviney, she' got some         Most surprisin' ways, I gum! -         Don't 'pear like she ever says         Nothin', yit you'll listen jes         Like she was a-talkin', and         Half-way seem to understand,         But not quite, - Poke does, I know,         'Cause he good as told me so, -         Poke's her favo-rite; and he -         That is, confidentially -         He's my favo-rite - and I         Got my whurfore and my why!)         I haint never ben no hand         Much at talkin', understand,         But they's thoughts o' mine 'at's jes         Jealous o' them Wigginses! -         Gift o' talkin 's what they got,         Whether they want to er not -         F'r instunce, start the old man on         Huntin'-scrapes, 'fore game was gone,         'Way back in the Forties, when         Bears stold pigs right out the pen,         Er went waltzin' 'crost the farm         With a bee-hive on their arm! -         And - sir, ping! the old man's gun         Has plumped-over many a one,         Firin' at him from afore         That-air very cabin-door!         Yes - and painters, prowlin' 'bout,         Allus darkest nights. - Lay out         Clost yer cattle. - Great, big red         Eyes a-blazin' in their head,         Glittern' 'long the timber-line -         Shine out some, and then un-shine,         And shine back - Then, stiddy! whizz!         'N there yer Mr. Painter is         With a hole bored spang between         Them-air eyes!    Er start Chasteen,         Say, on blooded racin'-stock,         Ef you want to hear him talk;         Er tobacker - how to raise,         Store, and k-yore it, so's she pays:         The old lady - and she'll cote         Scriptur' tel she'll git yer vote!         Prove to you 'at wrong is right,         Jes as plain as black is white:         Prove when you're asleep in bed         You're a-standin' on yer head,         And yer train 'at's goin' West,         'S goin' East its level best;         And when bees dies, it's their wings         Wears out - and a thousand things!         And the boys is "chips," you know;         "Off the old block" - So I go         To the Wigginses, 'cause - jes         'Cause I like the Wigginses -         Even ef Melviney she         Hardly 'pears to notice me!         Rid to Chinkypin this week -         Yisterd'y. - No snow to speak         Of, and didn't have no sleigh         Anyhow; so, as I say,         I rid in - and froze one ear         And both heels - and I don't keer! -         "Mother and the girls kin jes         Bother 'bout their Chris'mases         Next time fer theirse'vs, I jack!"         Thinks-says-I, a-startin' back, -         Whole durn meal-bag full of things         Wrapped in paper-sacks, and strings         Liable to snap their holt         Jes at any little jolt!         That in front o' me, and wind         With nicks in it, 'at jes skinned         Me alive! - I'm here to say         Nine mile' hossback thataway         Would a-walked my log!    But, as         Somepin' allus comes to pass,         As I topped old Guthrie's hill.         Saw a buggy, front the 'Still,         P'inted home'ards, and a thin         Little chap jes climbin' in.         Six more minutes I were there         On the groun's' - And course it were -         It were little Poke - and he         Nearly fainted to see me! -         "You ben in to Chinky, too?"         "Yes; and go' ride back with you,"         I-says-I.    He he'pped me find         Room fer my things in behind -         Stript my hoss's reins down, and         Put his mitt' on the right hand         So's to lead - "Pile in!" says he,         "But you 've struck pore company!"         Noticed he was pale - looked sick,         Kindo-like, and had a quick         Way o' flickin' them-air eyes         0' his roun' 'at didn't size         Up right with his usual style -         s' I, "You well?"    He tried to smile,         But his chin shuck and tears come. -         "I've run 'Viney 'way from home!"         Don't know jes what all occurred         Next ten seconds - Nary word,         But my heart jes drapt, stobbed thue,         And whirlt over and come to. -         Wrenched a big quart bottle from         That fool-boy! - and cut my thumb         On his little fiste-teeth - helt         Him snug in one arm, and felt         That-air little heart o' his         Churn the blood o' Wigginses         Into that old bead 'at spun         Roun' her, spilt at Lexington!         His k'niptions, like enough,         He'pped us both, - though it was rough -         Rough on him, and rougher on         Me when last his nerve was gone,         And he laid there still, his face         Fishin' fer some hidin'-place         Jes a leetle lower down         In my breast than he 'd yit foun'!         Last I kindo' soothed him, so's         He could talk. - And what you s'pose         Them-air revelations of         Poke's was? . . .    He'd ben writin' love-         Letters to Melviney, and         Givin her to understand         They was from "a young man who         Loved her," and - "the violet's blue         'N sugar's sweet" - and Lord knows what!         Tel, 'peared-like, Melviney got         S' interested in "the young         Man," Poke he says, 'at she brung         A' answer onc't fer him to take,         Statin' "she'd die fer his sake,"         And writ fifty xs "fer         Love-kisses fer him from her!"         I was standin' in the road         By the buggy, all I knowed         When Poke got that fer. - "That's why,"         Poke says, "I 'fessed up the lie -         Had to - 'cause I see," says he,         "'Viney was in airnest - she         Cried, too, when I told her. - Then         She swore me, and smiled again,         And got Pap and Mother to         Let me hitch and drive her thue         Into Chinkypin, to be         At Aunt 'Rindy's Chris'mas-tree -         That's to-night."    Says I, "Poke - durn         Your lyin' soul! - 's that beau o' hern -         That - she - loves - Does he live in         That hellhole o' Chinkypin?"         "No," says Poke, "er 'Viney would         Went some other neighborhood."         "Who is the blame whelp?" says I.         "Promised 'Viney, hope I'd die         Ef I ever told!" says Poke,         Pittiful and jes heart-broke -         "'Sides that's why she left the place, -         'She caint look him in the face         Now no more on earth!' she says. - "         And the child broke down and jes         Sobbed!    Says I, "Poke, I p'tend         T' be your friend, and your Pap's friend,         And your Mother's friend, and all         The boys' friend, little, large and small -         The whole fambily's friend - and you         Know that means Melviney, too. -         Now - you hush yer troublin!' - I'm         Go' to he'p friends ever' time -         On'y in this case, you got         To he'p me - and, like as not         I kin he'p Melviney then,         And we'll have her home again.         And now, Poke, with your consent,         I'm go' go to that-air gent         She's in love with, and confer         With him on his views o' her. -         Blast him! give the man some show. -         Who is he? - I'm go' to know!"         Somepin' struck the little chap         Funny, 'peared-like. - Give a slap         On his leg - laughed thue the dew         In his eyes, and says: "It's you!"         Yes, and - 'cordin' to the last         Love-letters of ours 'at passed         Thue his hands - we was to be         Married Chris'mas. - "Gee-mun-nee!         Poke," says I, "it's suddent - yit         We kin make it!    You're to git         Up tomorry, say, 'bout three -         Tell your folks you're go' with me: -         We'll hitch up, and jes drive in         'N take the town o' Chinkypin!"