James Whitcomb Riley
Parunts knows lots more than us,
But they don't know _all_ things,--
'Cause we ketch 'em, lots o' times,
Even on little small things.
One time Winnie ask' her Ma,
At the winder, sewin',
What's the wind a-doin' when
It's a-not a-_blowin_'?
Yes, an' 'Del', that very day,
When we're nearly froze out,
He ask' Uncle _where_ it goes
When the fire goes out?
Nen _I_ run to ask my Pa,
That way, somepin' funny;
But I can't say ist but 'Say,'
When he turn to me an' say,
'Well, what is it, Honey?'
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Comments about this poem (Intellectual Limitations by James Whitcomb Riley )
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