VIII
Laury’s Lullaby
All day I’d b’en a-cuttin’ wheat
In the drippin’est kind o’ heat,
While Bill he’d drug the road right smart
An’ hed made what he called a start
Out on the forty west the silos
(On the road leadin’ down to Milo’s).
We both was watchin’ th’ evenin’ star,
Sort o’ smokin’ an’ dozin’ thar,
When Laury’s voice begun ter croon
With the follerin’ drowsy toon:
Sleep O, Willy bright!
The whip-poor-will’s pleadin’,
But mommy ain’t heedin’,
Fer Willy aint needin’
No beatin’ ternight.
Hushaby, Willy wise!
Tree-frogs is a pipin’,
An’ dad’s gone a-snipin’,
While mommy’s a-wipin’
Yo’ pore little eyes.
O bye Willy bye!
The screech-owl’s a-screechin’,
The veery’s beseechin’,
An’ mommy feels meachin’
Ter hear Willy cry.
In the chimly they’s chitt’rin’
An’ twitt’rin’ an’ litt’rin’,
Sleep O, sleep O, Willy wee;
Fer the swallers is cheepin’
An’ peepin’ an’ sleepin’—
That’s whar Willy wee orter be.
On ’is little bed O,
With nary dread O,
An’ a milk-weed puffy
Fer ’is coverlet fluffy,
Hushaby, hushaby, Willy O;
An’ ’is piller a gossam—
Y blow from the blossom
Thet floats from a thistle
Whar tralaloos whistle—
Hushaby, hushaby, Willy O!
Next mornin’ ’t breakfas’ Bill aver’d:
“Wal, I reckon thet tralaloo bird
Was mos’ tew much fer yew an’ me;
Did ye know it was ha’f pas’ three....”
“Shet up,” I sez. O’ co’se I knew,
’Cos my clo’es was jes’ soaked with dew!