An’ the other round the baby, who wuz yellin’ fur to kill!
So we saved ’em. She wuz gritty. She’s ez peart ez she kin be—
Now we’re married; she’s no chicken, but she’s good enough fur me,
An’ ef eny ask who owns her, wy! I ain’t ashamed to tell—
She’s my wife. Ther’ ain’t none better than ole Filkin’s daughter “Nell.”
Eugene J. Hall.
JIM.
He was jes’ a plain, ever’-day, all-round kind of a jour.,