Here you will find the Poem Mylo Jones's Wife of poet James Whitcomb Riley
'Mylo Jones's wife' was all I heerd, mighty near, last Fall-- Visitun relations down T'other side of Morgantown! Mylo Jones's wife she does This and that, and 'those' and 'thus'!-- Can't 'bide babies in her sight-- Ner no childern, day and night, Whoopin' round the premises-- NER NO NOTHIN' ELSE, I guess! Mylo Jones's wife she 'lows She's the boss of her own house!-- Mylo--consequences is-- Stays whare things seem SOME like HIS,-- Uses, mostly, with the stock-- Coaxin' 'Old Kate' not to balk, Ner kick hoss-flies' branes out, ner Act, I s'pose, so much like HER! Yit the wimmern-folks tells you She's PERFECTION.--Yes they do! Mylo's wife she says she's found Home hain't home with MEN-FOLKS round When they's work like HERN to do- Picklin' pears and BUTCHERN, too, And a-rendern lard, and then Cookin' fer a pack of men To come trackin' up the flore SHE'S scrubbed TEL she'll scrub no MORE!-- Yit she'd keep things clean ef they Made her scrub tel Jedgmunt Day! Mylo Jones's wife she sews Carpet-rags and patches clothes Jest year IN and OUT!--and yit Whare's the livin' use of it? She asts Mylo that.--And he Gits back whare he'd ruther be, With his team;--jest PLOWS--and don't Never sware--like some folks won't! Think ef HE'D CUT LOOSE, I gum! 'D he'p his heavenly chances some! Mylo's wife don't see no use, Ner no reason ner excuse Fer his pore relations to Hang round like they allus do! Thare 'bout onc't a year--and SHE-- She jest GA'NTS 'em, folks tells me, On spiced pears!--Pass Mylo one, He says 'No, he don't chuse none!' Workin'men like Mylo they 'D ort to have MEAT ev'ry day! Dad-burn Mylo Jones's wife! Ruther rake a blame caseknife 'Crost my wizzen than to see Sich a womern rulin' ME!-- Ruther take and turn in and Raise a fool mule-colt by hand' MYLO, though--od-rot the man!-- Jest keeps ca'm--like some folks CAN-- And 'lows sich as her, I s'pose, Is MAN'S HE'PMEET'--Mercy knows!