Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE HIRED MAN'S DOG-STORY, by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Dogs, I contend; its jes' about Last Line: "how the other gits its livin'!" Alternate Author Name(s): Johnson Of Boone, Benj. F. Subject(s): Animals; Dogs; Fantasy | ||||||||
Twa dogs that were na thrang at hame Forgather'd ance upon a time. -- BURNS. DOGS, I contend; is jes' about Nigh human -- git 'em studied out. I hold, like us, they've got their own Reasonin' powers 'at's theirs alone -- Same as their tricks and habits too, Provin', by lots o' things they do, That instinct's not the only thing That dogs is governed by, i jing! -- And I'll say furder, on that line, And prove it, that they's dogs aplenty Will show intelligence as fine As ary ten men out o' twenty! Jevver investigate the way Sheep-killin' dogs goes at it -- hey? Well, you dig up the facts and you Will find, first thing, they's always two Dogs goes together on that spree O' blood and puore dog-deviltry! And, then, they always go at night -- Mind ye, it's never in daylight, When folks is up and wide awake, -- No self-respectin' dogs'll make Mistakes o' judgment on that score, -- And I've knowed fifty head or more O' slaughtered sheep found in the lot, Next morning the old farmer got His folks up and went out to feed, -- And every livin' soul agreed That all night long they never heerd The bark o' dog ner bleat o' skeered And racin', tromplin' flock o' sheep A-skallyhootin' roun' the pastur', To rouse 'em from their peaceful sleep To that heart-renderin' disaster! Well, now, they's actchul evidence In all these facts set forth; and hence When, by like facts, it has been foun' That these two dogs -- colloguin' roun' At night as thick as thieves -- by day Don't go together anyway, And, 'pearantly, hain't never met Each other; and the facts is set On record furder, that these smart Old pards in crime lives miles apart -- Which is a trick o' theirs, to throw Off all suspicion, don't you know! -- One's a town-dog -- belongin' to Some good man, maybe -- er to you! -- And one's a country-dog, er "jay," As you nickname us thataway. Well, now! -- these is the facts I' got (And, mind ye, these is facts -- not guesses) To argy on, concernin' what Fine reasonin' powers dogs p'sesses. My idy is, -- the dog lives in The town, we'll say, runs up ag'in The country-dog, some Saturday, Under a' old farm-wagon, say, Down at the Court-house hitchin'-rack. -- Both lifts the bristles on their back And show their teeth and growl as though They meant it pleasant-like and low, In case the fight hangs fire. And they Both wag then in a friendly way, The town-dog sayin': -- "Seems to me, Last Dimocratic jubilee, I seen you here in town somewhere?" The country-dog says: -- "Right you air! -- And right here's where you seen me, too, Under this wagon, watchin' you!" "Yes," says the town-dog, -- "and I thought We'd both bear watchin', like as not." And as he yawns and looks away, The country-dog says, "What's your lay?" The town-dog whets his feet a spell And yawns ag'in, and then says, -- "Well, Before I answer that -- Ain't you A Mill Crick dog, a mile er two From old Chape Clayton's stock-farm -- say?" "Who told you?" says the jay-dog -- "hey?" And looks up, real su'prised. "I guessed," The town-dog says -- "You tell the rest, -- How's old Chape's mutton, anyhow? -- How many of 'em's ready now -- How many of 'em's ripe enough fer use, And how's the hot, red, rosy juice?" "'Mm!" says the country-dog, "I think I sort o' see a little blink O' what you mean." And then he stops And turns and looks up street and lops His old wet tongue out, and says he, Lickin' his lips, all slobbery, "Ad-drat my melts! you're jes' my man! -- I'll trust you, 'cause I know I can!" And then he says, "I'll tell you jes' How things is, and Chape's carelessness About his sheep, -- fer instance, say, To-morry Chapes'll all be 'way To Sund'y-meetin' -- and ag'in At night." "At night? That lets us in! -- 'Better the day'" -- the town-dog says -- "'Better the deed.' We'll pray; Lord, yes! -- May the outpourin' grace be shed Abroad, and all hearts comforted Accordin' to their lights!" says he, "And that, of course, means you and me." And then they both snarled, low and quiet -- Swore where they'd meet. And both stood by it! Jes' half-past eight on Sund'y night, Them two dogs meets, -- the town-dog, light O' foot, though five mile' he had spanned O' field, beech-wood and bottom-land. But, as books says, -- we draw a veil Over this chapter of the tale! . . . Yit when them two infernal, mean, Low, orn'ry whelps has left the scene O' carnage -- chased and putt to death The last pore sheep, -- they've yit got breath Enough to laugh and joke about The fun they've had, while they sneak out The woods-way fer the old crick where They both plunge in and wash their hair And rench their bloody mouths, and grin, As each one skulks off home ag'in -- Jes' innardly too proud and glad To keep theirselves from kind o' struttin', Thinkin' about the fun they'd had -- When their blame wizzens needed cuttin'! Dogs is deliber't. -- They can bide Their time till s'picions all has died. The country-dog don't 'pear to care Fer town no more, -- he's off somewhere When the folks whistles, as they head The team t'ards town. As I jes' said, -- Dogs is deliber't, don't forgit! So this-here dog he's got the grit To jes' deprive hisse'f o' town For 'bout three weeks. But time rolls roun'! . . . Same as they first met: -- Saturday -- Same Court-house -- hitch-rack -- and same way The team wuz hitched -- same wagon where The same jay-dog growls under there When same town-dog comes loafin' by, With the most innocentest eye And giner'l meek and lowly style, As though he'd never cracked a smile In all his mortal days! -- And both Them dogs is strangers, you'd take oath! -- Both keeps a-lookin' sharp, to see If folks is watchin' -- jes' the way They acted that first Saturday They talked so confidentchully. "Well" -- says the town-dog, in a low And careless tone -- "Well, whatch you know?" "'Know?'" says the country-dog -- "Lots more Than some smart people knows -- that's shore!" And then, in his dog-language, he Explains how slick he had to be When some suspicious folks come roun' A-tryin' to track and run him down -- Like he'd had anything to do With killin' over fifty head O' sheep! "Jes' think! -- and me" -- he said, "And me as innocent as you, That very hour, five mile' away In this town like you air to-day!" "Ah!" says the town-dog, "there's the beauty O' bein' prepared for what may be, And washin' when you've done your duty! -- No stain o' blood on you er me Ner wool in our teeth! -- Then," says he, "When wicked man has wronged us so, We ort to learn to be forgivin' -- Half the world, of course, don't know How the other gits its livin'!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOVER'S GHOST by LOUIS SIMPSON MEDITATIONS ON THE SOUTH VALLEY, PART XXIII by JIMMY SANTIAGO BACA FROST AT MIDNIGHT by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE DREAMS WE WAKE FROM by PATRICIA GOEDICKE THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY A BOY'S MOTHER by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY |
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