Madison Julius Cawein (Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн)
Corncob Jones
An Oldham-County Weather Philosopher. "Who is Corncob Jones?" you say. Beateningest man and talkingest: Talk and talk th' enduring day, Never even stop to rest, Keep on talking that a-way, Talk you dead, or do his best. We were there in that old barn, Loafing 'round and swapping lies: There was Wiseheart, talking corn, Me and Raider boosting ryes, When old Corncob sprung a yarn Just to give us a surprise. "Why," says he, "the twelvth of May 'Bout ten year ago, why I Rickolects it to the day, By statistics hit wuz dry, But hit must have rained, I say, 'Cause well, I remember why. "Fer that night it 'gin to blow And to rain, an' rained a week; When hit stopped hit 'gun to show Here an' there a clearin' streak, Then set in to sleet an' snow Blamededst weather! simply freak! "An' the fruit wuz killt; the corn, Gin'ral, an' the gardin truck. That 's experience, an' no yarn. You can't put hit down to luck, But to Natur', whar we larn Common sense, we do, by Huck! "Why, as I have said to-fore," (Here he aimed a streak of brown At a hornet on the floor, Got him too)"you put hit down To experience, nothin' more, Whut they call hit there in town. "Natur' jest rubs in the thing Jest won't let a man ferget; Keeps hit up spring arter spring Why? Jest 'cause, now you' kin bet, Blamed blackberries bloom, by Jing! They jest need the cold an' wet. "Every time the twelvth o' May Cums around, hit 's bound to rain, Almost to the very day, Then hit turns an' snows again. That 's experience, I say, Whut we gets here, in the main." "Talkin' 'bout experience It don't help so much," I said; "Not as much as common sense." Here old Corncob shook his head, Spat and said, "Well that depen's On whut common sense is, Ned." Then old Wiseheart says, says he, "Common sense is somethin' more. Common sense comes nat'rally. Nothin' helps hit, that I 'm shore; But hit helps the one, you see, That 't was borned with, rich er poor." Then says Corncob, "Talkin' now Of experience. That wuz what We wuz talkin' 'bout. Somehow You got stalded missed the spot, Barbwired both yerself an' plough. An' ye have n't proved a jot. "You can' t git along, you know, 'Thout experience. Whar 'd we be, If we missed hit? Helps me so I kin reckin, acktually, When hit 's goin' to rain er snow, Er turn hot er cold;" says he. "Jest by thinkin' back, by Jack! Hit 's not whut the weather is, But whut hit wuz oncet, long back In the times whut's gone. Gee whiz! No man needs an almanack If he only notices. "Weather? Why, sirs, summer er fall We kin lay hit by the heels. Hit cums easy, natural, Jest like settin' down ter meals. Jest take notice, that is all. Do n't rely on how hit feels. "That 's experience. Larn to know Whut is whut, an' then take heed. So it cums we reap an' sow Jest accordin' as we 've seed How 't wuz done long years ago, An' so profit; that's my creed." Blamededst man you ever met, This old Corncob. Had a way Of convincing you, you bet, By just facts, as you might say; Tell you when 'twas dry or wet, And what 't would be to the day.
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