Like his Mother Used to Make (in Dialect)

"Uncle Jake's Place," St. Jo, Mo., 1874

"I was born in Indiany," says a stranger, lank and slim,
As us fellers in the restarunt was kindo' guyin' him,
And Uncle Jake was slidin' him another punkin pie
And a' extry cup o' coffee, with a twinkle in his eye.

"I was born in Indiany -- more'n forty year' ago --
I hain't be'n back in twenty -- and I'm workin' back'ards slow;
But I've et in ever' restarunt 'twixt here and Santy Fee,
And I want to state this coffee tastes like gittin' home, to me!"

"Pour us out another, Daddy," says the feller, warmin' up,
A-speakin' 'cost a saucerful, as Uncle tuk his cup -- ,
"When I seed yer sign out yander," he went on, to Uncle Jake- -,
"Come in and git some coffee like yer mother used to make' --
I thought of my old mother, and the Posey County farm,
And me a little kid ag'in, a-hangin' in her arm,
As she set the pot: a-bilin', broke the eggs and poured 'em in -- "

And the feller kindo' halted, with a trimble in his chin:

And Uncle Jake he fetched the feller's coffee back, and stood
As solemn, fer a minute, as a' undertaker would;
Then he sorto' turned and tiptoed to'rds the kitchen door -- and nex',
Here comes his old wife out with him, a-rubbin' of her specs --
And she rushes fer the stranger, and she hollers out, "It's him -- !

Thank God we've met him comin' -- ! Don't you know, yer mother, Jim?"

And the feller, as he grabbed her, says -- , "You bet I hain't forgot --
But," wipin' of his eyes, says he, "yer coffee's mighty hot! "

End of title