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"Budd Wilkins at the Show" by S. E. Kiser

The following is the complete text of S. E. Kiser's "Budd Wilkins at the Show." The various books, short stories and poems we offer are presented free of charge with absolutely no advertising as a public service from Internet Accuracy Project.

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"Budd Wilkins at the Show" by S. E. Kiser



Since I've got used to city ways and don't scare at the cars,
It makes me smile to set and think of years ago.--My stars!
How green I was, and how green all them country people be--
Sometimes it seems almost as if this hardly could be me.

Well, I was goin' to tell you 'bout Budd Wilkins: I declare
He was the durndest, greenest chap that ever breathed the air--
The biggest town on earth, he thought, was our old county seat,
With its one two-story brick hotel and dusty bizness street.

We'd fairs in fall and now and then a dance or huskin' bee,
Which was the most excitin' things Budd Wilkins ever see,
Until, one winter, Skigginsville was all turned upside down
By a troupe of real play actors a-comin' into town.

The court-house it was turned into a theater, that night,
And I don't s'pose I'll live to see another sich a sight:
I guess that every person who was able fer to go
Jest natchelly cut loose fer oncet, and went to see the show.

Me and Budd we stood around there all day in the snow,
But gosh! it paid us, fer we got seats right in the second row!
Well, the brass band played a tune er two, and then the play begun,
And 'twa'n't long 'fore the villain had the hero on the run.

Say, talk about your purty girls with sweet, confidin' ways--
I never see the equal yit, in all o' my born days,
Of that there brave young heroine, so clingin' and so mild,
And jest as innocent as if she'd been a little child.

I most forgot to say that Budd stood six feet in his socks,
As brave as any lion, too, and stronger than an ox!
But there never was a man, I'll bet, that had a softer heart,
And he was always sure to take the weaker person's part.

Budd, he fell dead in love right off with that there purty girl,
And I suppose the feller's brain was in a fearful whirl,
Fer there he set and gazed at her, and when she sighed he sighed,
And when she hid her face and sobbed, he actually cried.

He clinched his fists and ground his teeth when the villain laid his plot
And said out loud he'd like to kill the rogue right on the spot,
And when the hero helped the girl, Budd up and yelled "Hooray!"
He'd clean fergot the whole blame thing was nothing but a play.

At last the villain trapped the girl, that sweet confidin' child,
And when she cried for help, why I'll admit that I was riled;
The hero couldn't do a thing, but roll and writhe around
And tug and groan because they'd got the poor chap gagged and bound.

The maiden cried: "Unhand me now, or, weak girl that I am--"
And then Budd Wilkins he jumped up and give his hat a slam,
And, quicker'n I can tell it he was up there raisin' Ned,
A-rescuin' the maiden and a-punchin' the rogue's head.

I can't, somehow, perticklerize concernin' that there row:
The whole thing seems a sort of blur as I recall it now--
But I can still remember that there was a fearful thud,
With the air chock full of arms and legs and the villain under Budd.

I never see a chap so bruised and battered up before
As that there villain was when he was picked up from the floor!--
The show? Oh, it was busted, and they put poor Budd in jail,
And kept him there all night, because I couldn't go his bail.

Next mornin' what d' you think we heard? Most s'prised in all my life!
That sweet, confidin' maiden was the cruel villain's wife!
Budd wilted when he heard it, and he groaned, and then, says he:
"Well, I'll be dummed! Bill, that's the last play actin' show fer me!"

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