"
We nodded all our skulls at this,
But Argue Bill he rapped his crutches;
Sed he, "I guess they never paid
Five hundred dollars for a 'Duchess.'"
Bill and the Elder allers froze
To subjects sorter disputatious,
So on the 'lasses keg they sot,
And had an argue fair and spacious.
Good land! when Solon cum in sight,
By lawyer Smithett's row o' beeches;
His black span seemed to crawl along
Ez slow ez Dr. Jones's leeches.
Sez Sister Fry, who was along,
"I sorter think my specs is muggy;
"But Solon started out from hum
"This mornin' in the new top buggy.
"Jeddiah rid old chestnut Jim,
"An' Sammy rid the roan filly;
"I told 'em when they started off
"It looked redikless, soft and silly,
"To see three able-bodied men
"An' four stout horses drive one critter;
"O land o' song! will some one look?
"From hed to foot I'm in a twitter."
Wal, up we swarm'd on Pewse's fence,
And Bill he histed on his crutches;
We all was curus to behold
The Deac's five hundred dollar "Duchess."
I've heerd filosofurs declar,
This life be's kind o' snarly jinted;
And every human standin' thar
Felt sorter gin'ral disappointed.
What sort o' crazy animile
Hed got the Deacon in its clutches?
They cum along in spankin' style--
Old Solon and his sons and "Duchess."
Her heels wus up, her hed wus down,
An or'nary cross-gritted critter
As ever browsed around the town,
And kept the women folks a-twitter,
A-boostin' up the garding rails,
And browsin' on the factory bleachin',
And kickin' up the milkin' pails:
Bill he riz up, ez true ez preachin'.
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