Erasmus Wilson

'Ras Wilson, I respect you, 'cause
You're common, like you allus was
Afore you went to town and s'prised
The world by gittin' "reckonized,"
And yit perservin', as I say,
Your common hoss-sense ev'ryway!
And when that name o' yourn occurs
On hand-bills, er in newspapers,
Er letters writ by friends 'at ast
About you, same as in the past,
And neghbors and relations 'low
You're out o' the tall timber now,
And "gittin' thare" about as spry's
The next! -- as _I say_, when my eyes,
Er ears, lights on your name, I mind
The first time 'at I come to find
You -- and my Rickollection yells,
Jest jubilunt as old sleigh-bells --
"Ras Wilson! Say! Hold up! and shake
A paw, fer old acquaintance sake.! "

My _Rickollection_, more'n like,
Hain't overly too apt to strike
The what's-called "cultchurd public eye"
As wisdom of the deepest dye, --
And yit my _Rickollection_ makes
So blame lots fewer bad mistakes,
Regardin' human-natchur' and
The fellers 'at I've shook theyr hand,
Than my _best jedgemunt's_ done, the day
I've met 'em -- 'fore I got away, --
'At -- Well, 'Ras Wilson, let me grip
_Your_ hand in warmest pardnership!

Dad-burn ye! -- Like to jest haul back
A' old flat-hander, jest che-whack!
And take you 'twixt the shoulders, say,
Sometime you're lookin' t'other way! --
Er, maybe whilse you're speakin' to
A whole blame Courthouse-full o' 'thu-
Syastic friends, I'd like to jest
Come in-like and break up the nest
Afore you hatched anuther cheer,
And say: "Ras, _I_ can't stand hitched here
All night -- ner wouldn't ef I could! --
But Little Bethel Neghborhood,
You ust to live at, 's sent some word
Fer you, ef ary chance occurred
To git it to ye, -- so ef you
_Kin_ stop, I'm waitin' fer ye to! "

You're common, as I said afore --
You're common, yit oncommon _more_. --
You allus kindo' 'pear, to me,
What all mankind had ort to be --
Jest _natchurl_, and the more hurraws
You git, the less you know the cause --
Like as ef God Hisse'f stood by
Where best on earth hain't half knee-high,
And _seein'_ like, and knowin' _He_
'S the Only Grate Man really,
You're jest content to size your hight
With any feller-man's in sight. --
And even then they's scrubs, like me,
Feels stuck-up, in your company!
Like now: -- I want to go with you
Plum out o' town a mile er two
Clean past the Fair-ground whare's some hint
O' pennyrile er peppermint,
And bottom-lands, and timber thick
Enugh to sorto' shade the crick!
I want to _see_ you -- want to set
Down somers, whare the grass hain't wet,
And kindo' _breathe_ you, like puore air --
And taste o' your tobacker thare,
And talk and chaw! Talk o' the birds
We've knocked with cross-bows.

Afterwards Drop, mayby, into some dispute
'Bout "pomgrannies," er cal'mus-root --
And how _they_ growed, and _whare_? -- on tree
Er vine? -- Who's best boy-memory! --
And wasn't it _gingsang_, insted
O' cal'mus-root, growed like you said? --
Er how to tell a coon-track from
A mussrat's; -- er how milksick come --
Er ef _cows_ brung it? -- Er why now
We never see no "muley"-cow --
Ner "frizzly"-chicken -- ner no "clay-
Bank" mare -- ner nothin' thataway! --
And what's come o' the _yellow_-core
Old wortermelons? -- hain't no more. --
Tomattusus, the same -- all _red_-
Uns nowadays -- All past joys fled --
Each and all jest gone k-whizz!
Like our days o' childhood is!

Dag-gone it, 'Ras! they hain't no friend,
It 'pears-like, left to comperhend
Sich things as these but you, and see
How dratted sweet they air to me!
But you, 'at's loved 'em allus, and
Kin sort 'em out and understand
'Em, same as the fine books you've read,
And all fine thoughts you've writ, er said,
Er worked out, through long nights o' rain,
And doubts and fears, and hopes, again,
As bright as morning when she broke, --
You know a teardrop from a joke!
And so, 'Ras Wilson, stop and shake
A paw, fer old acquaintance sake!