Explore "The Little Man in the Tinshop" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When I was a little boy, long ago, / And spoke of the theater as the "show," / The first one that I went to see, / Mother's brother it was took me -- / (My uncle, of course, though he seemed to be / Only a boy -- I loved him so! ) / And ah, how pleasant he made it all! / And the things he knew that _I_ should know! -- / The stage, the "drop," and the frescoed wall; / The sudden flash of the lights; and oh, / The orchestra, with its melody, / And the lilt and jingle and jubilee / Of "The Little Man in the Tinshop"!
For Uncle showed me the "Leader" there, / With his pale, bleak forehead and long, black hair; / Showed me the "Second," and "Cello," and "Bass," / And the "B-Flat," pouting and puffing his face / At the little end of the horn he blew / Silvery bubbles of music through; / And he coined me names of them, each in turn, / Some comical name that I laughed to learn, / Clean on down to the last and best, -- / The lively little man, never at rest, / Who hides away at the end of the string, / And tinkers and plays on everything, -- / That's "The Little Man in the Tinshop"!