An’ that’s why I loaded the gun to-day
Yer a-gittin’ cross an’ in the way.
I been thinkin’ it over; ’taint no fun.
I don’t like to do it, but it’s got to be done;
Got sort of a notion, you know, too,
The kind of a job we’re goin’ to do,
Else why would yeh hang back that-a-way,
Yeh ain’t ez young ez yeh once wuz, hey!
Frisky dog in them days, I note,
When yeh nailed the sneakthief by the throat;