The Story of My Fav....."When The Frost is On The Punkin...."....

Once more it is time to drag forth my favorite fall poem. As usual I simply must tell the story of how it saved James Whitcomb Riley's job. James wasn't having much success in choosing a profession when one of the family's friends gave him a job working for the newspaper. After some time the newspaper was taken over by a new owner who was interested in cutting expenses. Among the new owner's plan was to fire Riley from his newspaper job. Now, one of Riley's chores at the newspaper was to write for each publication, thus he wrote poetry for the paper and published it under a name -- not his own.

One day a politician wanna-be was trying to give a speech at a political gathering. When the "cat got his tongue" and he couldn't remember his speech he wound up referring to "when the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock." This was the poem that had been written most recently (by Riley) and published in the newspaper. When it was quoted the room broke forth with applause. The new owner of the newspaper recognizing what had happened was impressed that so many people were reading (and enjoying) his paper. The evidence was in the applause. Therefore, the story is told that Riley's poetry saved his job.

WHEN THE FROST IS ON THE PUNKIN

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and the gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,
And the clackin'; of the guineys and the cluckin' of the hens
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O it's then the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best,
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock

They's somethin kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here -
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees;
But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny monring of the airly autumn days
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock -
When the frost is on the punkin and fodder's in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn;
The stubble in the furries - kindo' lonesome-like, but still
A preachin' sermons to us of the barns they growed to fill;
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The hosses in theyr stalls below - the clover overhead! -
O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock!

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps
Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps;
And your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folks is through
With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too!
I don't know how to tell it - but if sich a thing could be
As the Angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me -
I'd want to 'commodate 'em - all the whole-indurin' flock -
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock!

This poem is one of my favorites for teaching imagery to children. Generally children, today, have difficulty writing (expressing themselves) such that it paints pictures in the mind. As a teacher I found it to be a wonderful selection to use in the fall while teaching descriptive words and phrases. A few props that are wonderfully available in the fall, tastefully arranged in a corner of the room, plus a well used rocking chair and a teacher can be off and away with imaginations and a group of students!

My goodness those memories almost inspire me to teach writing to elementary kiddies again! That's all folks!