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WIT AND HUMOR OF AMERICA
EDITED BY MARSHALL P. WILDER
Volume IX
Funk & Wagnalls Company

New York and London
Copyright MDCCCCVII, BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY
Copyright MDCCCCXI, THE THWING COMPANY

CONTENTS
PAGE
Ballade of Ping-Pong, A
Alden Charles Noble
1690
Boat that Ain't, The
Wallace Irwin
1764
Budge and Toddie
John Habberton
1692
Cavalier's Valentine, A
Clinton Scollard
1782
Conscientious Curate and the
Beauteous Ballet Girl, The
William Russell Rose
1756
Country School, The
Anonymous
1734
Evan Anderson's Poker Party
Benjamin Stevenson
1737
Experiences of Gentle Jane, The
Carolyn Wells
1797
Few Reflections, A
Bill Arp
1799
Great Celebrator, A
Bill Nye
1784
Gusher, The
Charles Battell Loomis
1656
He Wanted to Know
Sam Walter Foss
1794
Hoss, The
James Whitcomb Riley
1759
How I Spoke the Word
Frank L. Stanton
1725
How Jimaboy Found Himself
Francis Lynde
1765
How the Money Goes
John G. Saxe
1780
"Hullo!"
Sam Walter Foss
1706
WIT AND HUMOR OF AMERICA
1
Lugubrious Whing-Whang, The
James Whitcomb Riley
1669
Millionaires, The
Max Adeler
1675
Mystery of Gilgal, The
Hay
1654
Natural Philosophy
William Henry Drummond 1722
Nine Little Goblins, The
James Whitcomb Riley
1635
Old-Fashioned Choir, The
Benjamin F. Taylor
1790
Our Polite Parents
Carolyn Wells
1688
Our Very Wishes
Harriet Prescott Spofford
1637
Reflective Retrospect, A
John G. Saxe
1703
Rule of Three, A
Wallace Rice
1779
Runaway Toys, The
Frank L. Stanton
1671
Soldier, Rest!
Robert J. Burdette
1796
Tale of the Tangled Telegram, The Wilbur D. Nesbit
1709
Threnody, A
George Thomas Lanigan
1754
Tim Flannigan's Mistake
Wallace Bruce Amsbary
1673
University Intelligence Office, The John Kendrick Bangs
1727
Warrior, The
Eugene Field
1708
When Doctors Disagree
S. E. Kiser
1762
When the Little Boy Ran Away
Frank L. Stanton
1792
Widow Bedott's Visitor, The
Frances M. Whicher
1660
COMPLETE INDEX AT THE END OF VOLUME X.
[Pg 1635]
THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS
BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

They all climbed up on a high board-fence\u2014
Nine little Goblins, with green-glass eyes\ue000
Nine little Goblins that had no sense,
And couldn't tell coppers from cold mince pies;
And they all climbed up on the fence, and sat\ue001
And I asked them what they were staring at.

And the first one said, as he scratched his head
With a queer little arm that reached out of his ear
And rasped its claws in his hair so red\ue002
"This is what this little arm is fer!"

The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Wit And Humor Of America, Vol. IX, by Marshall P. Wilder.
CONTENTS
2
And he scratched and stared, and the next one said
"How on earth doyou scratch your head?"

And he laughed like the screech of a rusty hinge\ue003
Laughed and laughed till his face grew black;
And when he choked, with a final twinge
Of his stifling laughter, he thumped his back
With a fist that grew on the end of his tail
Till the breath came back to his lips so pale.

And the third little Goblin leered round at me\ue004
And there were no lids on his eyes at all\ue005
And he clucked one eye, and he says, says he,
"What is the style of your socks this fall?"
And he clapped his heels\ue006and I sighed to see
[Pg 1636]That he had hands where his feet should be.

Then a bald-faced Goblin, gray and grim,
Bowed his head, and I saw him slip
His eyebrows off, as I looked at him,
And paste them over his upper lip;
And then he moaned in remorseful pain\ue007
"Would\ue008Ah, would I'd me brows again!"

And then the whole of the Goblin band
Rocked on the fence-top to and fro,
And clung, in a long row, hand in hand,
Singing the songs that they used to know\ue009
Singing the songs that their grandsires sung
In the goo-goo days of the Goblin-tongue.

And ever they kept their green-glass eyes
Fixed on me with a stony stare\ue00a
Till my own grew glazed with a dread surmise,
And my hat whooped up on my lifted hair,
And I felt the heart in my breast snap to
As you've heard the lid of a snuff-box do.

And they sang, "You're asleep! There is no board-fence,
And never a Goblin with green-glass eyes!\ue00b
'Tis only a vision the mind invents
After a supper of cold mince-pies,\ue00c
And you're doomed to dream this way," they said,\ue00d
"And you sha'n't wake up till you're clean plum dead!"
[Pg 1637]

The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Wit And Humor Of America, Vol. IX, by Marshall P. Wilder.
BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
3
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