Thomas The Pretender

A poem by James Whitcomb Riley

Tommy's alluz playin' jokes,
An' actin' up, an' foolin' folks;
An' wunst one time he creep
In Pa's big chair, he did, one night,
An' squint an' shut his eyes bofe tight,
An' say, "Now I 'm asleep."
An' nen we knowed, an' Ma know' too,
He ain't asleep no more 'n you!

An' wunst he clumbed on our back'fence
An' flop his arms an' nen commence
To crow, like he's a hen;
But when he failed off, like he done,
He didn't fool us childern none,
Ner didn't crow again.
An' our Hired Man, as he come by,
Says, "Tom can't crow, but he kin cry."

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