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A poem by James Whitcomb Riley

Farmer Whipple--Bachelor

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Title:     Farmer Whipple--Bachelor
Author: James Whitcomb Riley [More Titles by Riley]

It's a mystery to see me--a man o' fifty-four,
Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and more--
A-lookin' glad and smilin'! And they's none o' you can say
That you can guess the reason why I feel so good to-day!

I must tell you all about it! But I'll have to deviate
A little in beginnin', so's to set the matter straight
As to how it comes to happen that I never took a wife--
Kind o' "crawfish" from the Present to the Springtime of my life!

I was brought up in the country: Of a family of five--
Three brothers and a sister--I'm the only one alive,--
Fer they all died little babies; and 'twas one o' Mother's ways,
You know, to want a daughter; so she took a girl to raise.

The sweetest little thing she was, with rosy cheeks, and fat--
We was little chunks o' shavers then about as high as that!
But someway we sort o' _suited_-like! and Mother she'd declare
She never laid her eyes on a more lovin' pair

Than _we_ was! So we growed up side by side fer thirteen year',
And every hour of it she growed to me more dear!--
W'y, even Father's dyin', as he did, I do believe
Warn't more affectin' to me than it was to see her grieve!

I was then a lad o' twenty; and I felt a flash o' pride
In thinkin' all depended on _me_ now to pervide
Fer Mother and fer Mary; and I went about the place
With sleeves rolled up--and workin', with a mighty smilin' face.--

Fer _sompin' else_ was workin'! but not a word I said
Of a certain sort o' notion that was runnin' through my head,--
"Someday I'd mayby marry, and _a brother's_ love was one
Thing--_a lover's_ was another!" was the way the notion run!

I remember onc't in harvest, when the "cradle-in'" was done--
When the harvest of my summers mounted up to twenty-one
I was ridin' home with Mary at the closin' o' the day--
A-chawin' straws and thinkin', in a lover's lazy way!

And Mary's cheeks was burnin' like the sunset down the lane:
I noticed she was thinkin', too, and ast her to explain.
Well--when she turned and _kissed_ me, _with her arms around me--law!_
I'd a bigger load o' heaven than I had a load o' straw!

I don't p'tend to learnin', but I'll tell you what's a fact,
They's a mighty truthful sayin' somers in a' almanack--
Er _somers_--'bout "puore happiness"--perhaps some folks'll laugh
At the idy--"only lastin' jest two seconds and a half."--

But it's jest as true as preachin'!--fer that was _a sister's_ kiss,
And a sister's lovin' confidence a-tellin' to me this:--
"_She_ was happy, _bein' promised to the son o' farmer Brown_."--
And my feelin's struck a pardnership with sunset and went down!

I don't know _how_ I acted--I don't know _what_ I said,
Fer my heart seemed jest a-turnin' to an ice-cold lump o' lead;
And the hosses kindo' glimmered before me in the road.
And the lines fell from my fingers--and that was all I knowed--

Fer--well, I don't know _how_ long--They's a dim rememberence
Of a sound o' snortin' hosses, and a stake-and-ridered fence
A-whizzin' past, and wheat-sheaves a-dancin' in the air,
And Mary screamin' "Murder!" and a-runnin' up to where

_I_ was layin' by the roadside, and the wagon upside down
A-leanin' on the gate-post, with the wheels a whirlin' round!
And I tried to raise and meet her, but I couldn't, with a vague
Sorto' notion comin' to me that I had a broken leg.

Well, the women nussed me through it; but many a time I'd sigh
As I'd keep a-gittin' better instid o' goin' to die,
And wonder what was left _me_ worth livin' fer below,
When the girl I loved was married to another, don't you know!

And my thoughts was as rebellious as the folks was good and kind
When Brown and Mary married--Railly must a-been my _mind_
Was kindo' out o' kilter!--fer I hated Brown, you see,
Worse'n _pizen_--and the feller whittled crutches out fer _me_--

And done a thousand little ac's o' kindness and respect--
And me a-wishin' all the time that I could break his neck!
My relief was like a mourner's when the funeral is done
When they moved to Illinois in the Fall o' Forty-one.

Then I went to work in airnest--I had nothin' much in view
But to drown'd out rickollections--and it kep' me busy, too!
But I slowly thrived and prospered, tel Mother used to say
She expected yit to see me a wealthy man some day.

Then I'd think how little _money_ was, compared to happiness--
And who'd be left to use it when I died I couldn't guess!
But I've still kep' speculatin' and a-gainin' year by year,
Tel I'm pay-in' half the taxes in the county, mighty near!

Well!--A year ago er better, a letter comes to hand
Astin' how I'd like to dicker fer some Illinois land--
"The feller that had owned it," it went ahead to state,
"Had jest deceased, insolvent, leavin' chance to speculate,"--

And then it closed by sayin' that I'd "better come and see."--
I'd never been West, anyhow--a most too wild fer _me_
I'd allus had a notion; but a lawyer here in town
Said I'd find myself mistakened when I come to look around.

So I bids good-bye to Mother, and I jumps aboard the train,
A-thinkin' what I'd bring her when I come back home again--
And ef she'd had an idy what the present was to be,
I think it's more'n likely she'd a-went along with me!

Cars is awful tejus ridin', fer all they go so fast!
But finally they called out my stoppin'-place at last;
And that night, at the tavern, I dreamp' _I_ was a train
O' cars, and _skeered_ at sompin', runnin' down a country lane!

Well, in the mornin' airly--after huntin' up the man--
The lawyer who was wantin' to swap the piece o' land--
We started fer the country; and I ast the history
Of the farm--its former owner--and so-forth, etcetery!

And--well--it was inte_rest_in'--I su-prised him, I suppose,
By the loud and frequent manner in which I blowed my nose!--
But his su-prise was greater, and it made him wonder more,
When I kissed and hugged the widder when she met us at the door!--

_It was Mary_: They's a feelin' a-hidin' down in here--
Of course I can't explain it, ner ever make it clear.--
It was with us in that meetin', I don't want you to fergit!
And it makes me kind o' nervous when I think about it yit!

I _bought_ that farm, and _deeded_ it, afore I left the town,
With "title clear to mansions in the skies," to Mary Brown!
And fu'thermore, I took her and _the childern_--fer, you see,
They'd never seed their Grandma--and I fetched 'em home with me.

So _now_ you've got an idy why a man o' fifty-four,
Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and more,
Is a-lookin' glad and smilin'!--And I've jest come into town
To git a pair o' license fer to _marry_ Mary Brown.


[The end]
James Whitcomb Riley's poem: Farmer Whipple--Bachelor

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