Explore "Climatic Sorcery" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When frost's all on our winder, an' the snow's / All out-o'-doors, our "Old-Kriss"-milkman goes / A-drivin' round, ist purt'-nigh froze to death, / With his old white mustache froze full o' breath.
But when it's summer an' all warm ag'in, / He comes a-whistlin' an' a-drivin in / Our alley, 'thout no coat on, ner ain't cold, / Ner his mustache ain't white, ner he ain't old.