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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The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme | ||
XX
“At last” (thus read his Commentaries)
“I, Downing, rose upon my trotters,
An' shoved aside the leaves an' berries,
An' hollered louder than the waters.
They kinder harked, an' stopt their dancin,'
An' sorter made a start to foller;
But while they puzzled I was prancin'
To git another hole to holler.
I found it, an' agin I hooted,
This time, I reckon, rather louder;
Then squatted clost an' softly scooted
Along the brushwood quicker'n powder.
An' so from pint to pint I bellered
Enough to shake Apollyon's courage,
An' every time I done it, mellered
Their sposhy hearts to softer porridge.
I watched 'em, saw they wasn't steady,
But flocked in shaky squads together,
An' jedged that they were gittin' ready
To sport the whitest kind of feather.
“I, Downing, rose upon my trotters,
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An' hollered louder than the waters.
They kinder harked, an' stopt their dancin,'
An' sorter made a start to foller;
But while they puzzled I was prancin'
To git another hole to holler.
I found it, an' agin I hooted,
This time, I reckon, rather louder;
Then squatted clost an' softly scooted
Along the brushwood quicker'n powder.
An' so from pint to pint I bellered
Enough to shake Apollyon's courage,
An' every time I done it, mellered
Their sposhy hearts to softer porridge.
I watched 'em, saw they wasn't steady,
But flocked in shaky squads together,
An' jedged that they were gittin' ready
To sport the whitest kind of feather.
“At last I showed my regimentals:
You oughter seen the creeturs travel!
They s'posed a thousen continentals
Had come to lay 'em under gravel.
Away they scooted, all a-straddle
To git aboard their flimsy birches,
An', launchin' spry, begun to paddle
Acrost the rapid's frothy curchies.
They scuffled smart, but man's resistance
Was naught amidst the river's revels;
I heern their deathsong in the distance,
An' seen 'em die like Mingo devils.
Then, bein' hungry as a sharky,
I made a dinner off their vittle,
And also grabbed a birchen barky
The coots had finished off to whittle.”
You oughter seen the creeturs travel!
They s'posed a thousen continentals
Had come to lay 'em under gravel.
Away they scooted, all a-straddle
To git aboard their flimsy birches,
An', launchin' spry, begun to paddle
Acrost the rapid's frothy curchies.
They scuffled smart, but man's resistance
Was naught amidst the river's revels;
I heern their deathsong in the distance,
An' seen 'em die like Mingo devils.
Then, bein' hungry as a sharky,
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And also grabbed a birchen barky
The coots had finished off to whittle.”
The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme | ||