Public Domain Poetry And Stories - Old Indiany. Intended For A Dinner Of The Indiana Society Of Chicago by James Whitcomb Riley
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Old Indiany. Intended For A Dinner Of The Indiana Society Of Chicago

    By James Whitcomb Riley



    Old Indiany, 'course we know
    Is first, and best, and most, also,
    Of all the States' whole forty-four: -
    She's first in ever'thing, that's shore! -
    And best in ever'way as yet
    Made known to man; and you kin bet
    She's most, because she won't confess
    She ever was, or will be, less!
    And yet, fer all her proud array
    Of sons, how many gits away! -

    No doubt about her bein' great,
    But, fellers, she's a leaky State!
    And them that boasts the most about
    Her, them's the ones that's dribbled out.
    Law! jes' to think of all you boys
    'Way over here in Illinoise
    A-celebratin', like ye air,
    Old Indiany, 'way back there
    In the dark ages, so to speak,
    A-prayin' for ye once a week
    And wonderin' what's a-keepin' you
    From comin', like you ort to do.
    You're all a-lookin' well, and like
    You wasn't "sidin' up the pike,"
    As the tramp-shoemaker said
    When "he sacked the boss and shed
    The blame town, to hunt fer one
    Where they didn't work fer fun!"
    Lookin' extry well, I'd say,
    Your old home so fur away. -

    Maybe, though, like the old jour.,
    Fun hain't all yer workin' fer.
    So you've found a job that pays
    Better than in them old days
    You was on The Weekly Press,
    Heppin' run things, more er less;
    Er a-learnin' telegraph-
    Operatin', with a half-
    Notion of the tinner's trade,
    Er the dusty man's that laid
    Out designs on marble and
    Hacked out little lambs by hand,
    And chewed finecut as he wrought,
    "Shapin' from his bitter thought"
    Some squshed mutterings to say, -
    "Yes, hard work, and porer pay!"
    Er you'd kind o' thought the far-
    Gazin' kuss that owned a car
    And took pictures in it, had
    Jes' the snap you wanted - bad!
    And you even wondered why
    He kep' foolin' with his sky-
    Light the same on shiny days
    As when rainin'. ('T leaked always.)

    Wondered what strange things was hid
    In there when he shet the door
    And smelt like a burnt drug store
    Next some orchard-trees, i swan!
    With whole roasted apples on!
    That's why Ade is, here of late,
    Buyin' in the dear old state, -
    So's to cut it up in plots
    Of both town and country lots.



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