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Armazindy / The Poems and Prose Sketches of James Whitcomb Riley cover

Armazindy / The Poems and Prose Sketches of James Whitcomb Riley

Chapter 90: THE LITTLE MOCK-MAN
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About This Book

A mixed collection of poems and prose sketches that depicts small‑town and rural life through vernacular narration, sentimental observation, and comic detail. Longer narrative pieces explore personal loss, domestic struggles, and neighborhood intrigues, while shorter lyrics and children’s verses celebrate play, memory, and everyday tenderness. The voice shifts between musical, folksy dialect and plain colloquial phrasing, producing a rhythmic, conversational tone. Recurrent concerns include household labor, family ties, youthful fancy, and the mingled humor and nostalgia of ordinary community experience.

THE LITTLE MOCK-MAN

The Little Mock-man on the Stairs—
He mocks the lady’s horse ’at rares
At bi-sickles an’ things,—
He mocks the mens ’at rides ’em, too;
An’ mocks the Movers, drivin’ through.
An’ hollers, “Here’s the way you do
With them-air hitchin’-strings!”
“Ho! ho!” he’ll say,
Ole Settlers’ Day,
When they’re all jogglin’ by,—
“You look like this,”
He’ll say, an’ twis’
His mouth an’ squint his eye
An’ ’tend-like he wuz beat the bass
Drum at both ends—an’ toots an’ blares
Ole dinner-horn an’ puffs his face—
The Little Mock-man on the Stairs!
The Little Mock-man on the Stairs
Mocks all the peoples all he cares
’At passes up an’ down!
He mocks the chickens round the door,
An’ mocks the girl ’at scrubs the floor,
An’ mocks the rich, an’ mocks the pore,
An’ ever’thing in town!
“Ho! ho!” says he,
To you er me;
An’ ef we turns an’ looks,
He’s all cross-eyed
An’ mouth all wide
Like Giunts is, in books.—
“Ho! ho!” he yells, “look here at me,”
An’ rolls his fat eyes roun’ an’ glares,—
You look like this!” he says, says he—
The Little Mock-man on the Stairs!
The Little Mock—
The Little Mock—
The Little Mock-man on the Stairs,
He mocks the music-box an’ clock,
An’ roller-sofy an’ the chairs;
He mocks his Pa, an’ specs he wears;
He mocks the man ’at picks the pears
An’ plums an’ peaches on the shares;
He mocks the monkeys an’ the bears
On picture-bills, an’ rips an’ tears
’Em down,—an’ mocks ist all he cares,
An’ ever’body ever’wheres!