The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1897-11-20
time.


Yes, Jim Riley, we have heard you speak;
we have followed you through the homely
lanes ard over the fields of Hoosierdom; We
have walked with you among the blossoms
and the roses of loves pathway with An
old sweetheart of mine;'' we have visited
the child world with you.
THE child-worldlong and long since lost
to view;
fairy paradise!
How always fair it was. and fresh and
new
How every afluent hour heaped heart and
With treasures of surprise"
We have been amused by the pathetic
humor of Little Orphant Annie and have
felt creepy and queer when the gobbleUns
have filled us with awe and ghostliness.
We have touched the shores OF sublimity
with the little baby who reconciled the
hard-hearted brothers-in-law; we have felt
ness of the statesman Down at the Capt.
tall" We have listened to the sermon that
the raindrops and the sunshine preached to
the discouraged farmer"
Fer the world is full of roses and the roses
full of dew,
And the dew is full of heavenly love that
drips fer me and you."
Yes. Jim Riley we have heerd you speak;
we have listened to your quaint dialect, have
watched your 1armerlike actions, your
childish poses, your glasses and your
smooth and kindly face. 1t has been some
time, Jim Riley, since we heerd you speak
afore but you are the same Jim Riley now
as you were then, more prosperous, per-
haps and more famous, but the same Jim
Riley STILL
And that's why, Jim Riley, we packed the
old GilliSS Theater full last night from or
chestra pit, to gallery, from stage to outer
asle then hundreds of us went away unable
to get in. That's why we were showed and
pushed and jostled around in manner for
hidden to cattle, by lot of raw ushers;
why, we suffered as racket internal was
kept up throughout the evening; why, we
stayed after shock-headed. gray haired
man. who should have known better, fright
ened all the timld ones among us by order
ing the aises cleared '.for fear of fire.
That's why we were again hustled about,
cuffed and cursed by these same raw ush-
ers, to whom an interruption of the even
ing's pleasure was sweet morsel and
hideouS noise was Ito laugh.
But in spite of it all, Jim Riley, we owe
you many thanks-thanks we cannot repay.
You even made the music, well rendered
but inappropriate, except Gene FIELDS dam
ty There Little Girl Don't Cry daint--
lily sung by Miss Parkinsons tolerable. And
you touched us deeply, Jim Riley, ana you
made us smile broadly; we laughed until
the tears came to our eyes, and then-We
left the tears there to hide the other tears
your tenderness called forth. And so you
ran the gamut of our feelings, from grave
to gay, from sunshine to dull gray For
Jim Riley, you are poet of the heart:
But after all, Jim Riley 1T was IN the
rhymes of the child-world we liked you
best:
1.-THE child-world, yet wondrous world no
To those who know it's boundless happi-
ness"
There were some old favorites we missed,
to be sure, Jim Riley. The Raggedy Man
has frozen for the winter, probably and it's
too cold to go to ''Auntyss. House where
I'VE ct out on the porch. But you did re-
mind us that *
sit was pleasant, o brother mine,
In those old days of the lost sunshine
OF youth-when the Saturdays chores were
through,
And the Sundays wood in the kitchen, too,
And we went visiting, me and you,
Out to old Aunt Marys."
And you did tell us of sisters caller, and
the wicked little brothers-and we who have
been little brothers or big, groWn-up sis
tiers or sisters callers, we know, we know.
And, too you told us of the smart young
school teacher, under whose infections we
have suffered in our younger days-and
again, we know. And, then Q Jim Riley,
you gave us of your best, your hearts own.
And our hearts went out to yours In An
Old Sweetheart of Nine"
That's why Jim Riley, we packed your
house last night and fought and showed to
hear you. And that's why we are already
scramblng for places in the house next
Thursday night, when you viii tell us once
again about the time when the frost is on
the punkin," of the days. Knee deep in
June and the Banks o. Deer crick, and
will once more invite us TO
go a-visitin' back to Griggsby's
Back where the latch strings a-hangin'
from the door,
And ever neighbor round the place is dear
Back where we ust to be so happy and so
pore"
And you and your friend Gene Ware, the
man of "Ironquill," will once more be
greeted by an audience that is heart to
heart with you. For there is only one Jim
Riley, and that ones you.