Iry And Billy And Jo.

A poem by James Whitcomb Riley

Iry an' Billy an' Jo! -
Iry an' Billy's the boys,
An' Jo's their dog, you know, -
Their pictures took all in a row.
Bet they kin kick up a noise -
Iry and Billy, the boys,
And that-air little dog Jo!

Iry's the one 'at stands
Up there a-lookin' so mild
An' meek - with his hat in his hands,
Like such a 'bediant child -
(Sakes-alive!) - An' Billy he sets
In the cheer an' holds onto Jo an' sweats
Hisse'f, a-lookin' so good! Ho-ho!
Iry an' Billy an' Jo!

Yit the way them boys, you know,
Usen to jes turn in
An' fight over that dog Jo
Wuz a burnin'-shame-an'-a-sin ! -
Iry he'd argy 'at, by gee-whizz!
That-air little Jo-dog wuz his! -
An' Billy he'd claim it wuzn't so -
'Cause the dog wuz his'n! - An' at it they'd go,
Nip-an'-tugg, tooth-an'-toenail, you know -
Iry an' Billy an' Jo!

But their Pa - (He wuz the marshal then)
He 'tended-like 'at he jerked 'em up;
An' got a jury o' Brickyard men
An' helt a trial about the pup:
An' he says he jes like to a-died
When the rest o' us town-boys testified -
Regardin', you know,
Iry an' Billy an' Jo. -

'Cause we all knowed, when the Gypsies they
Camped down here by the crick last Fall,
They brung Jo with 'em, an' give him away
To Iry an' Billy fer nothin' at all! -
So the jury fetched in the verdick so
Jo he ain't neether o' theirn fer shore -
He's both their dog, an' jes no more!
An' so
They've quit quarrelin' long ago,
Iry an' Billy an' Jo.

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