Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DOWN ON WRIGGLE CRICK, by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DOWN ON WRIGGLE CRICK, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Mostly, folks is law-abidin'
Last Line: Down on wriggle crick!
Alternate Author Name(s): Johnson Of Boone, Benj. F.
Subject(s): Brooks; Crime & Criminals; Hotels; Streams; Creeks; Inns; Innskeepers; Motels; Boarding Houses


MOSTLY, folks is law-abidin'
Down on Wriggle Crick, --
Seein' they's no Squire residin'
In our bailywick;
No grand juries, no suppeenies,
Ner no vested rights to pick
Out yer man, jerk up and jail ef
He's outragin' Wriggle Crick!

Wriggle Crick hain't got no lawin',
Ner no suits to beat;
Ner no court-house gee-and-hawin'
Like a County-seat;
Hain't no waitin' round fer verdicks,
Ner non-gittin' witness-fees;
Ner no thiefs 'at gits "new hearin's,"
By some lawyer slick as grease!

Wriggle Crick's leadin' spirit
Is old Johnts Culwell, --
Keeps post-office, and right near it
Owns what's called "The Grand Hotel" --
(Warehouse now) -- buys wheat and ships it;
Gits out ties, and trades in stock,
And knows all the high-toned drummers
'Twixt South Bend and Mishawauk.

Last year comes along a feller --
Sharper 'an a lance --
Stovepipe-hat and silk umbreller,
And a boughten all-wool pants, --
Tinkerin' of clocks and watches;
Says a trial's all he wants --
And rents out the tavern-office
Next to Uncle Johnts.

Well. -- He tacked up his k'dentials,
And got down to biz. --
Captured Johnts by cuttin' stenchils
Fer them old wheat-sacks o' his. --
Fixed his clock, in the post-office --
Painted fer him, clean and slick,
'Crost his safe, in gold-leaf letters,
"J. Culwells's, Wriggle Crick."

Any kind o' job you keered to Resk him with, and bring,
He'd fix fer you -- jes' appeared to Turn his hand to anything! --
Rings, er earbobs, er umbrellers --
Glue a cheer er chany doll, --
W'y, of all the beatin' fellers,
He jes' beat 'em all!

Made his friends, but wouldn't stop there, --
One mistake he learnt,
That was, sleepin' in his shop there. --
And one Sund'y night it burnt!
Come in one o' jes' a-sweepin'
All the whole town high and dry --
And that feller, when they waked him,
Suffocatin', mighty nigh!

Johnts he drug him from the buildin',
He'pless -- 'peared to be, --
And the women and the childern
Drenchin' him with sympathy!
But I noticed Johnts helt on him
With a' extry lovin' grip,
And the men-folks gathered round him
In most warmest pardnership!

That's the whole mess, grease-and-dopin'!
Johnts's safe was saved, --
But the lock was found sprung open,
And the inside caved.
Was no trial -- ner no jury --
Ner no jedge ner court-house-click. --
Circumstances alters cases
Down on Wriggle Crick!





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