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Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889

The Old Man and Jim

By James Whitcomb Riley (1849–1916)

OLD man never had much to say—

’Ceptin’ to Jim—

And Jim was the wildest boy he had,

And the old man jes’ wrapped up in him!

Never heerd him speak but once

Er twice in my life,—and first time was

When the army broke out, and Jim he went,

The old man backin’ him, fer three months.—

And all ’at I heerd the old man say

Was, jes’ as we turned to start away,—

“Well; good-bye, Jim:

Take keer of yourse’f!”

’Peared like he was more satisfied

Jes’ lookin’ at Jim

And likin’ him all to hisse’f-like, see?

’Cause he was jes’ wrapped up in him!

And over and over I mind the day

The old man come and stood round in the way

While we was drillin’, a-watchin’ Jim;

And down at the deepot a-heerin’ him say,—

“Well; good-bye, Jim:

Take keer of yourse’f!”

Never was nothin’ about the farm

Disting’ished Jim;—

Neighbors all ust to wonder why

The old man ’peared wrapped up in him:

But when Cap. Biggler, he writ back

’At Jim was the bravest boy we had

In the whole dern rigiment, white er black,

And his fightin’ good as his farmin’ bad—

’At he had led, with a bullet clean

Bored through his thigh, and carried the flag

Through the bloodiest battle you ever seen,—

The old man wound up a letter to him

’At Cap, read to us, ’at said,—“Tell Jim


And take keer of hisse’f!”

Jim come back jes’ long enough

To take the whim

’At he’d like to go back in the calvery—

And the old man jes’ wrapped up in him!

Jim ’lowed ’at he’d had sich luck afore,

Guessed he’d tackle her three years more.

And the old man give him a colt he’d raised

And follered him over to Camp Ben Wade,

And laid around fer a week er so,

Watchin’ Jim on dress parade;

Tel finally he rid away,

And last he heerd was the old man say,—

“Well; good-bye, Jim:

Take keer of yourse’f!”

Tuk the papers, the old man did,

A-watchin’ fer Jim,

Fully believin’ he’d make his mark

Some way—jes’ wrapped up in him!

And many a time the word ’u’d come

’At stirred him up like the tap of a drum:

At Petersburg, fer instance, where

Jim rid right into their cannons there,

And tuk ’em, and p’inted ’em t’other way,

And socked it home to the boys in gray,

As they skooted fer timber, and on and on—

Jim a Lieutenant and one arm gone,

And the old man’s words in his mind all day,—

“Well; good-bye, Jim:

Take keer of yourse’f!”

Think of a private, now, perhaps,

We’ll say like Jim,

’At’s dumb clean up to the shoulder-straps—

And the old man jes’ wrapped up in him!

Think of him—with the war plum’ through,

And the glorious old Red-White-and-Blue

A-laughin’ the news down over Jim

And the old man, bendin’ over him—

The surgeon turnin’ away with tears

’At hadn’t leaked fer years and years—

As the hand of the dyin’ boy clung to

His father’s, the old voice in his ears,—

“Well; good-bye, Jim:

Take keer of yourse’f!”

The Century Magazine. 1888.