read to us, 'at said,--"Tell Jim Good-bye;
And take keer of hisse'f!"
Jim come home jes' long enough
To take the whim
'At he'd like to go back in the calvery--
And the old man jes' wrapped up in him!
Jim 'lowed 'at he'd had sich luck afore,
Guessed he'd tackle her three years more.
And the old man give him a colt he'd raised,
And follered him over to Camp Ben Wade,
And laid around fer a week er so,
Watchin' Jim on dress-parade;
'Tel finally he rid away,
And last he heerd was the old man say,--
"Well, good-bye, Jim:
Take keer of yourse'f"
Tuk the papers, the old man did,
A-watchin' fer Jim,
Fully believin' he'd make his mark
_Some_ way--jes' wrapped up in him!
And many a time the word 'ud come
'At stirred him up like the tap of a drum:
At Petersburg fer instunce, where
Jim rid right into their cannons there,
And tuk 'em, and p'inted 'em t' other way,
And socked it home to the boys in gray,
As they skooted fer timber, and on and on--
Jim a lieutenant,--and one arm gone,--
And the old man's words in his mind all day,--
"Well, good-bye, Jim:
Take keer of yourse'f!"
Think of a private, now, perhaps,
We'll say like Jim,
'At's clumb clean up to the shoulder-straps--
And the old man jes' wrapped up in him!
Think of him--with the war plum' through,
And the glorious old Red-White-and-Blue
A-laughin' the news down over Jim,
And the old man, bendin' over him--
The surgeon turnin' away with tears
'At hadn't leaked fer years and years,
As the hand of the dyin' boy clung to
His Father's, the old voice in his ears,--
"Well, good-bye, Jim:
Take keer of yourse'f!"
JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY.
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