The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme The witch of Shiloh, the last of the Wampanoags, the gentle earl, the enchanted voyage |
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| 41. | XLI |
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 | The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme |  |
XLI
“But while I stood with jaws apart,
A-gogglin' at those hansome critters,
My army got a trifle scart
An' suddintly went all to fritters;
For when the hosses smelt the dragon,
An' when the ladies fairly saw it,
Away went every tarnal wagon
As fast as dobbin's legs could draw it;
An' clost behind, with howl an' whine,
Dogs, younkers, single men an' married,
The fastest, loudest drove of swine
That ever Tophet's legion harried.
A-gogglin' at those hansome critters,
My army got a trifle scart
An' suddintly went all to fritters;
For when the hosses smelt the dragon,
An' when the ladies fairly saw it,
Away went every tarnal wagon
As fast as dobbin's legs could draw it;
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Dogs, younkers, single men an' married,
The fastest, loudest drove of swine
That ever Tophet's legion harried.
“The only one who stuck it through
Was Esther Anne, my faithful daughter.
God bless her! Downing grit is true,
An' Downing blood is thicker 'n water.
She wouldn't dodge the pesky ventur,
Though right ahead stood Hell embattled,
An', jerry-go-lang! for Shiloh centre
Those wagons of salvation rattled.
She went beside me through the scrimmage
Without the smell of fire upon her,
For Satan's impotent to damage
A maiden clad in grace an' honor.
Was Esther Anne, my faithful daughter.
God bless her! Downing grit is true,
An' Downing blood is thicker 'n water.
She wouldn't dodge the pesky ventur,
Though right ahead stood Hell embattled,
An', jerry-go-lang! for Shiloh centre
Those wagons of salvation rattled.
She went beside me through the scrimmage
Without the smell of fire upon her,
For Satan's impotent to damage
A maiden clad in grace an' honor.
“Well, right away the fight begun,
The devils spoutin' smoke an' flashes,
I bangin' with my duckin' gun,
An' blowin' some to dust an' ashes.
The forest glimmered red an' black
With fizzin' fire an' sooty cinders;
The noise was loud enough to crack
In flinders forty thousen' winders.
In short, t'was jest the roughest tussle,
The toughest muss for roars an' blazes,
That ever taxed old Downing's muscle
An' scart him into prayers an' praises.
The devils spoutin' smoke an' flashes,
I bangin' with my duckin' gun,
An' blowin' some to dust an' ashes.
The forest glimmered red an' black
With fizzin' fire an' sooty cinders;
The noise was loud enough to crack
In flinders forty thousen' winders.
In short, t'was jest the roughest tussle,
The toughest muss for roars an' blazes,
That ever taxed old Downing's muscle
An' scart him into prayers an' praises.
| The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme | |