The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme The witch of Shiloh, the last of the Wampanoags, the gentle earl, the enchanted voyage |
The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme | ||
XXIV
“Jest here I suddintly remember
That certain neighbors grumbled roundly
Because I didn't scoot up chember
An' switch my gipsy lassie soundly;
Believin' (very like with reason)
That she was queen of certain devils
Who sartinly would hold it treason
To bring her trouble by their revels;
An' holdin forth (perhaps correckly)
That sech an arnest kind of dealin'
U'd scart the 'tarnal coots direckly
An' hazed 'em out'n Shiloh squealin'.
That certain neighbors grumbled roundly
Because I didn't scoot up chember
An' switch my gipsy lassie soundly;
Believin' (very like with reason)
That she was queen of certain devils
Who sartinly would hold it treason
To bring her trouble by their revels;
An' holdin forth (perhaps correckly)
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U'd scart the 'tarnal coots direckly
An' hazed 'em out'n Shiloh squealin'.
“An here I'm druv to make confession,
Although it hurts like pullin' grinders;
But times there be of dark possession,
An' wiser men have worn the blinders.
The jade was sech a tearin' beauty,
An' looked so leetle like a sinner,
I couldn't squarely face my duty
An' say that Uncle Hob was in her.
I hate to larrup gals like cattle;
My heart preferred to resk a sally;
An' thus I soon declared for battle,
Though waged with all the Shadder Valley.
Although it hurts like pullin' grinders;
But times there be of dark possession,
An' wiser men have worn the blinders.
The jade was sech a tearin' beauty,
An' looked so leetle like a sinner,
I couldn't squarely face my duty
An' say that Uncle Hob was in her.
I hate to larrup gals like cattle;
My heart preferred to resk a sally;
An' thus I soon declared for battle,
Though waged with all the Shadder Valley.
“So, after takin' drink an' vittle,
I trotted out to poke an' whittle.
An' now that flyin' generation
Of vipers throwed a transformation.
They quit cahootin' round my gables
An' settled down like forty Babels,
A truly awful, howlin', squirmin',
Rambunkshus flock of pizen vermin,
Goats, tomcats, panters, anacunders,
Imps, dragons, spooks an' other wonders,
Who charged me on a tearin' gallop,
An' seemed resolved to have my scallop.
I trotted out to poke an' whittle.
An' now that flyin' generation
Of vipers throwed a transformation.
They quit cahootin' round my gables
An' settled down like forty Babels,
A truly awful, howlin', squirmin',
Rambunkshus flock of pizen vermin,
Goats, tomcats, panters, anacunders,
Imps, dragons, spooks an' other wonders,
Who charged me on a tearin' gallop,
An' seemed resolved to have my scallop.
“The leader was a boar-constrictor,
Who opened six-feet-wide his picter,
Proposin', if I'm not mistaken,
To try the whole of Downing's bacon,
But never got a single swaller,
Because I sabred through his collar
An' left his serpentship in sections
That skipped in opposite directions.
Who opened six-feet-wide his picter,
Proposin', if I'm not mistaken,
To try the whole of Downing's bacon,
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Because I sabred through his collar
An' left his serpentship in sections
That skipped in opposite directions.
“The next who offered me a banter
Was twenty foot or so of panter,
Who carmly ast himself to supper,
But got a slash from snoot to crupper,
That ruther cut the combat shorter,
Both halves a-bawlin' out for quarter.
Was twenty foot or so of panter,
Who carmly ast himself to supper,
But got a slash from snoot to crupper,
That ruther cut the combat shorter,
Both halves a-bawlin' out for quarter.
The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme | ||