Frosty Punkins and Creepy Castles

WHEN the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best,
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

from When the Frost is on the Punkin,
James Whitcomb Riley (click for previous post)

Mac-O-Chee

Riley was a good friend of the writer Donn Piatt and was often
a house guest at the Piatt country home, Mac-O-Chee. It is

while on an inspiring autumn visit, that he penned the words

to his famous poem When the Frost is on the Punkin. The

Piatt Castles, built by brothers Donn and Abram S. Piatt are

two chateaux built in Gothic design, located one mile east of

the village of West Liberty in Logan County, Ohio. The brothers

built these wonderful homes after serving as Union officers in

the Civil War. Mac-A-Cheek, built by Abram, was completed in

1871, and Mac-O-Chee, built by Donn, was completed in 1879,

only about 3/4 of mile apart. The names Mac-O-Chee and

Mac-A-Cheek are both derivatives of the Shawnee village

Mackachack. This Shawnee village existed just east of West

Liberty until Chief Moluntha was murdered in November of 1789.

So, my bloggy friends, if you are ever in my little neck of the

woods, a day trip to visit the Piatt castles would be worth your

while. I wouldn't recommend visiting at night, however. I had a

case of the willies in broad daylight. Especially creepy was the

room at the end of the hall of the third story at Mac-O-Chee,

once the family chapel. Lots of strange energy there.

The Hoosier Poet

The phrase "Noon-time, June-time, down around the river" has been in my head all week. It's from the poem by James Whitcomb Riley, known as the "Hoosier Poet". Hoosier is a term used to describe those of us from the state of Indiana. The word is derived from a pioneer days greeting. When approaching a home, you shouted, "Hello, the cabin!" to avoid being shot. The inhabitants would then shout back, "Who'sh 'ere?" Hence, over time the slurring became "hoosier".

At the end of the nineteenth century, when he was at the height of his career, James Whitcomb Riley was the most popular poet in America. Few literary figures have ever become so popular in their own lifetime. His poetry anthologies were best sellers and his public live poetry readings were sellouts.

As a little girl in Indiana, I fondly remember sitting in the big green vinyl covered rocker, on my grandmother's lap, listening to her read such poems to me as Little Orphan Annie, The Raggedy Man and When the Frost is on the Pumpkin. Despite dismissals by intellectuals, Riley has often been referred to as the Charles Dickens of the Midwest. Of his thousand poems, over half of them are charmingly written in the dialect of the day. I always keep my eye out for volumes of his vintage poetry, published by Bobbs-Merrill, which are often graced by lovely illustrations by Howard Chandler Christy.


vintage book from Willow's collection