[@3Cumposed by A Old Friend of the Fambily sence 'way back in the Forties, when they Settled nigh Fillmore, Putnam County, this State, whare John was borned and growed up, you might say, like the wayside flower.@1] YOUR neghbors in the country, whare you come from, hain't fergot! -- We knowed you even better than your own-self, like as not. We profissied your runnin'-geers 'ud stand a soggy load And pull her, purty stiddy, up a mighty rocky road: We been a-watchin' your career sence you could write your name -- But way you writ it @3first,@1 I'll say, was jest a burnin' shame! -- Your "J. C." in the copy-book, and "Ridpath" -- mercy-sakes! -- Quiled up and tide in dubble bows, lookt like a nest o' snakes! -- But @3you@1 could read it, I @3suppose,@1 and kindo' gloted on A-bein' @3"J. C. Ridpath"@1 when @3we@1 only called you @3"John."@1 But you'd work's well as fool, and what you had to do was @3done:@1 We've watched you at the wood-pile -- not the @3wood-shed@1 -- wasent none, -- And snow and sleet, and haulin', too, and lookin' after stock, And milkin', nights, and feedin' pigs, -- then turnin' back the clock, So's you could set up studyin' your 'Rethmatic, and fool Your Parents, whilse a-piratin' your way through winter school! And I've heerd tell -- from your own folks -- you've set and baked your face A-readin' Plutark Slives all night by that old fi-er-place. -- Yit, 'bout them times, the blackboard, onc't, had on it, I @3de@1-clare, "Yours truly, @3J. Clark@1 Ridpath." -- And the teacher -- left it thare! And they was other symptums, too, that pinted, plane as day, To nothin' short of @3College!@1 -- and @3one@1 was the lovin' way Your mother had of cheerin' you to efforts brave and strong, And puttin' more faith in you, as you needed it along: She'd pat you on the shoulder, er she'd grab you by the hands, And @3laugh@1 sometimes, er @3cry@1 sometimes. -- They's few that understands Jest @3what@1 theyr mother's drivin at when they act thataway; -- But I'll say this fer @3you,@1 John-Clark, -- you answered, night and day, To ev'ry trust and hope of hers -- and half your College fame Was battled fer and won fer her and glory of her name. The likes of @3you@1 at @3College!@1 But you went thare. How you paid Your way nobody's astin' -- but you @3worked,@1 -- you hain't afraid, -- Your @3clothes@1 was, more'n likely, kindo' out o' style, perhaps, And not as snug and warm as some 'at hid the other chaps; -- But when it come to @3Intullect@1 -- they tell me yourn was dressed A @3leetle@1 mite @3superber@1-like than any of the rest! And thare you @3stayed@1 -- and thare you've made your rickord, fare and square -- Tel @3now@1 it's @3Fame@1 'at writes your name, approvin', @3ev'rywhare@1 -- Not @3jibblets@1 of it, nuther, -- but all John Clark Ridpath, set Plum at the dashboard of the wholeendurin' Alfabet! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |