The merriment that followed was subdued-- <br />As though the story-teller's attitude <br />Were dual, in a sense, appealing quite <br />As much to sorrow as to mere delight, <br />According, haply, to the listener's bent <br />Either of sad or merry temperament.-- <br />'And of your two appeals I much prefer <br />The pathos,' said 'The Noted Traveler,'-- <br />'For should I live to twice my present years, <br />I know I could not quite forget the tears <br />That child-eyes bleed, the little palms nailed wide, <br />And quivering soul and body crucified.... <br />But, bless 'em! there are no such children here <br />To-night, thank God!--Come here to me, my dear!' <br />He said to little Alex, in a tone <br />So winning that the sound of it alone <br />Had drawn a child more lothful to his knee:-- <br />'And, now-sir, _I'll_ agree if _you'll_ agree,-- <br />_You_ tell us all a story, and then _I_ <br />Will tell one.' <br /> <br />'_But I can't._' <br /> <br />'Well, can't you _try?_' <br />'Yes, Mister: he _kin_ tell _one_. Alex, tell <br />The one, you know, 'at you made up so well, <br />About the _Bear_. He allus tells that one,' <br />Said Bud,--'He gits it mixed some 'bout the _gun_ <br />An' _ax_ the Little Boy had, an' _apples_, too.'-- <br />Then Uncle Mart said--'There, now! that'll do!-- <br />Let _Alex_ tell his story his own way!' <br />And Alex, prompted thus, without delay <br />Began.<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bewildering-emotions/
