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Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze
By James Whitcomb Riley
Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze
Lives 'way up in the leaves o' trees.
An' wunst I slipped up-stairs to play
In Aunty's room, while she 'uz away;
An' I clumbed up in her cushion-chair
An' ist peeked out o' the winder there;
An' there I saw - wite out in the trees -
Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze!
An' Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze
Would bow an' bow, with the leaves in the breeze,
An' waggle his whiskers an' raggledy hair,
An' bow to me in the winder there!
An' I 'd peek out, an' he'd peek in
An' waggle his whiskers an' bow ag'in,
Ist like the leaves'u'd wave in the breeze -
Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze!
An' Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze,
Seem-like, says to me: "See my bees
A-bringin' my dinner? An' see my cup
O' locus'-blossoms they've plum' filled up?"
An' "Um-yum, honey!" wuz last he said,
An' waggled his whiskers an' bowed his head;
An' I yells, "Gimme some, won't you, please,
Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze?"
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