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An’ nen I says–
“Who’s ‘old Miss Hoodjicum’?” I says

An’he
Says “Ef you lemme loose I’ll tell you.”

So
I helt the little skeezics ‘way fur out
In one hand–so’s he can’t jump down t’ th’ ground
Wivout a-gittin’ all stove up: an’ nen
I says, “You’re loose now.–Go ahead an’ tell
‘Bout the ‘tea-party’ where you’re goin’ at
So awful fast!” I says.

An’ nen he say,–
“No use to tell you ’bout it, ’cause you won’t
Believe it, ‘less you go there your own se’f
An’ see it wiv your own two eyes!” he says.
An’ he says: “Ef you lemme shore-nuff loose,
An’ p’omise ‘at you’ll keep wite still, an’ won’t
Tetch nothin’ ‘at you see–an’ never tell
Nobody in the world–an’ lemme loose–
W’y, nen I’ll take you there!”

But I says, “Yes
An’ ef I let you loose, you’ll run!” I says.
An’ he says “No, I won’t!–I hope may die!”
Nen I says, “Cwoss your heart you won’t!”

An’he
Ist cwoss his heart; an’ nen I weach an’ set
The little feller up on a long vine–
An’ he ‘uz so tickled to git loose agin,
He gwab’ the vine wiv boff his little hands
An’ ist take an’ turn in, he did, an’ skin
‘Bout forty-‘leven cats!

Nen when he git
Through whirlin’ wound the vine, an’ set on top
Of it agin, w’y nen his “woseleaf-coat”
He bwag so much about, it’s ist all tored
Up, an’ ist hangin’ strips an’ rags–so he
Look like his Pa’s a dwunkard. An’ so nen
When he see what he’s done–a-actin’ up
So smart,–he’s awful mad, I guess; an’ ist
Pout out his lips an’ twis’ his little face
Ist ugly as he kin, an’ set an’ tear
His whole coat off–an’ sleeves an’ all.–An’ nen
He wad it all togevver an’ ist throw
It at me ist as hard as he kin dwive!

An’ when I weach to ketch him, an’ ‘uz goin’
To give him ‘nuvver squeezin’, he ist flewed
Clean up on top the arber!–‘Cause, you know,
They wuz wings on him–when he tored his coat
Clean off–they wuz wings under there. But they
Wuz purty wobbly-like an’ wouldn’t work
Hardly at all–‘Cause purty soon, when I
Throwed clods at him, an’ sticks, an’ got him shooed
Down off o’ there, he come a-floppin’ down
An’ lit k-bang! on our old chicken-coop,
An’ ist laid there a-whimper’n’ like a child!
An’ I tiptoed up wite clos’t, an’ I says “What’s
The matter wiv ye, Squidjicum?”

An’he
Says: “Dog-gone! when my wings gits stwaight agin,
Where you all cwumpled ’em,” he says, “I bet
I’ll ist fly clean away an’ won’t take you
To old Miss Hoodjicum’s at all!” he says.
An’ nen I ist weach out wite quick, I did,
An’ gwab the sassy little snipe agin–
Nen tooked my topstwing an’ tie down his wings
So’s he can’t fly, ‘less’n I want him to!
An’ nen I says: “Now, Mr. Squidjicum,
You better ist light out,” I says, “to old
Miss Hoodjicum’s, an’ show me how to git
There, too,” I says; “er ef you don’t,” I says,
“I’ll climb up wiv you on our buggy-shed
An’ push you off!” I says.

An nen he say
All wight, he’ll show me there; an’ tell me nen
To set him down wite easy on his feet,
An’ loosen up the stwing a little where
It cut him under th’ arms. An’ nen he says,
“Come on!” he says; an’ went a-limpin’ ‘long
The garden-path–an’ limpin’ ‘long an’ ‘long
Tel–purty soon he come on ‘long to where’s
A grea’-big cabbage-leaf. An’ he stoop down
An’ say “Come on inunder here wiv me!”
So I stoop down an’ crawl inunder there,
Like he say.