Explore "Yap" by Joseph C. Lincoln on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I've got a little yaller dog, a wuthless kind of chap, / Who jest ain't good fer nothin' but ter eat and sleep and "yap. " / Fer all 'round general wuthlessness I never see his beat, / And yet he makes more fuss and noise than all the farm complete. / There ain't a mite of sense inside that yaller hide of his; / But, as _he_ ain't no good, he likes ter pester them that is. / The critters all despise him, but there ain't a one but feels / A little mite oneasy when he's "yappin" round their heels.
Yer see, he loves ter sneak around behind 'em, out of sight, / And give a sudden snap and snarl as if he meant ter bite; / Of course they know he wouldn't hurt, and only means to scare, / But still, it worries 'em ter know the little scamp is there; / And if they do git nervous-like and try to hit him back / He swells up so with pride it seems as if his skin would crack; / And then he's wuss than ever, so they find it doesn't pay, / But let him keep on "yappin" till he's tired and goes away.