John Mullins and the Corn Thief


Unöta'ke nae hanôkek
John Mullins hayásö
Utsitkwææ'ê' nô kës waaksék
Kanyu' u'waa' khu nô.

There was a mountain man of old
John Mullins was his name.
He took the corn instead of gold
And lived upon the game.


Hánekehak hatekhôni
Uähtö söekhá' hatyëö'
Hanu'tsuwae'hö hasyôni
Waskwa'ke ne unëö'

The sweet corn was his bread and drink
And after supper time
He sat down on the porch to think
And picked his teeth to rhyme.


Yetahkwa'ke usthöö íwí
Ne' ne kanëöyë' shô
Hutatêô ne'hu shô uiwí
Thúha nae ukêstö.

And as he watched the setting sun
An eye upon the corn,
He saw the crib was further done
Than what he could have sworn.


Thusnye'ö wai aksút tsekë
Sôká' nae yenöskwas
Sôká' yényö'ö kunöskwë
ne' nëkhu yenëökwas.

He said "Grandma, a thieving hound
Has been about this place,
I'll have him yet and I'll be bound
To know that White man's face."


Wahsi'tashukwas wai wááku'
Yetahkwa'ke húyë'
Ëshakuya'tayénö' khu
Úêtô twênishæyë'.

He took a steel trap that night
And placed it in the corn
To catch the critter before light
Turned to another morn.


Akwas huihká huikê hôkwe
Kakwékö hutíyô
Haksút skënö'ö hatháíne'
Ne' yetahkwa' huæhtö.

Shreaks brought the family to the door
While grandpa took his pail,
Walked past the crib and sycamore,
Slowly and without fail.


Ne' skát ëkát hunö'kwakwë
Úya' kës huyu'te'.
Setehtsia wênisyuwánë
Ne' John hutíwate'.

He milked old Bess and then went on
To milk-cow number two,
The sky was glowing with the dawn,
But John had things to do.


U'watiyakëhtak ne haksút
Watiksa'shö'ö khu
Satka huikê hôkwe, haksút,
Akwas u'thúét ne'hu.

The girls and grandma all came out
And cried and begged him please,
Let that man go, his noise and shout
Would make the diel's heart freeze.


Ahsö' tekní nikanöskwí
Te'wêtö aknuö'se.
Ne' waë' köyötöisyöhkwání
Takatka shô sôkwe.

But grandpa says "Two cows to go,
I've never shirked my task."
The man yelled "Mr Mullins, Oh
Please loose me's all I ask."


Huæhtö haksút ne' hanöskwas
Ne' u'thate'nyahsiæt.
Yetahkwa'ke ne' hanëökwas
Ne'hu waa'nistahsiæt.

But grandpa walked right past the thief
That had his right hand caught.
He filled a poke with corn, in brief
He chose each ear with thought.


Ne' huyææyë' shô waakehtát
ne' këötanëhkwi kwa'.
Sanëöyë' waë' ahsö' ëkát
Sênö ëtsyö' nae kwa'.

At last he set the poke upon
The stranger's horse and said
"You've got your corn, now you be gone,
But stay away and fed."


Ne' waaya'tatka' ne hôkwe
Kötatye' waate'ku'
Ne këötanëhkwi khu yöhe'
Síkwá wéê ne'hu.

He opened up the trap's hard teeth
And gave a bow and smile.
The corn and man, the horse beneath
By then were gone a mile.


Néwa' teatihutöhkwa'
Öööwöyöhtyawêêtë'.
Ne' hanöskwas aaunö'esha'
Ne' ne sáánö'nétë'.

They never saw that man again,
But that was years gone by.
Today they'd put John in the pen,
The thief in D.C., high.



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