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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416674" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Kingry's Mill</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">On old Brandywine-- about<br>Where White's Lots is now laid out,<br>And the old crick narries down<br>To the ditch that splits the town--,<br>Kingry's Mill stood. Hardly see<br>Where the old dam ust to be;<br>Shallor, long, dry trought o' grass<br>Where the old race ust to pass!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That's be'n forty years ago--<br>Forty years o' frost and snow--<br>Forty years o' shade and shine<br>Sence them boyhood-days o' mine--!<br>All the old landmarks o' town.<br>Changed about, er rotted down!<br>Where's the Tanyard? Where's the Still?<br>Tell me where's old Kingry's Mill?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Don't seem furder back, to me,<br>I'll be dogg'd! Than yisterd'y,<br>Since us fellers, in bare feet<br>And straw hats, went through the wheat,<br>Cuttin' 'crost the shortest shoot<br>Fer that-air old ellum root<br>Jest above the mill-dam-- where<br>The blame' cars now crosses there!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Through the willers down the crick<br>We could see the old mill stick<br>Its red gable up, as if<br>It jest knowed we'd stol'd the skiff!<br>See the winders in the sun<br>Blink like they wuz wonderun'<br>What the miller ort to do<br>With sich boys as me and you!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But old Kingry--! Who could fear<br>That old chap, with all his cheer--?<br>Leanin' at the window-sill,<br>Er the half-door o' the mill,<br>Swoppin' lies, and pokin' fun,<br>'N jigglin' like his hoppers done--<br>Laughin' grists o' gold and red<br>Right out o' the wagon-bed!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What did he keer where we went--?<br>'Jest keep out o' devilment,<br>And don't fool around the belts,<br>Bolts, ner burrs, ner nothin' else<br>'Bout the blame machinery,<br>And that's all I ast!' says-ee.<br>Then we'd climb the stairs, and play<br>In the bran-bins half the day!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Rickollect the dusty wall,<br>And the spider-webs, and all!<br>Rickollect the trimblin' spout<br>Where the meal come josslln' out--<br>Stand and comb yer fingers through<br>The fool-truck an hour er two--<br>Felt so sorto' warm-like and<br>Soothin' to a feller's hand!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Climb, high up above the stream,<br>And 'coon' out the wobbly beam<br>And peek down from out the lof'<br>Where the weather-boards was off--<br>Gee-mun-nee! w'y, it takes grit<br>Even jest to think of it--!<br>Lookin' 'way down there below<br>On the worter roarin' so!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Rickollect the flume, and wheel,<br>And the worter slosh and reel<br>And jest ravel out in froth<br>Flossier'n satin cloth!<br>Rickollect them paddles jest<br>Knock the bubbles galley-west,<br>And plunge under, and come up<br>Drippin' like a worter-pup!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And to see them old things gone<br>That I onc't was bettin' on,<br>In rale p'int o' fact, I feel<br>kindo' like that worter-wheel--,<br>Sorto' drippy-like and wet<br>Round the eyes-- but paddlin' yet,<br>And in mem'ry, loafin' still<br>Down around old Kingry's Mill!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Whitcomb+Riley">James Whitcomb Riley</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416674" data-title="Kingry's Mill de James Whitcomb Riley" data-description="On old Brandywine-- about
Where White's Lots is now laid out,
And the old crick narries down
To the ditch that splits the town--,
Kingry's Mill stood. Hardly see
Where the old dam ust to be;
Shallor, long, dry trought o' grass
Where the old race u..."></div>
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