OLD INDIANY

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 wo n'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 was n'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 did n't work fer fun!”

Lookin’ extry well, I'd say,

Your old home so fur away.—

Maybe, though, like the old jour.,

Fun hai n'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.