And in December’s dreary month the day of fight was nam’d;
“Who heeds,” the Slasher cried, “dark days, cold blast, or storm?
We’ll have sufficient work cut out to keep our systems warm.
“Tho’ twixt the Giant and myself the difference is great,
I care not for his stature high, I care not for his weight,
Nor for his wondrous length of reach does Perry care a whit;
And where so huge a carcase shows, the easier ’tis to hit.”
Thus to Big Caunt the Giant cried, “My friend, ’tis time to trot,
But bear me witness ere we start, this fight I courted not;
My manly foe, I do not doubt, possesses thorough game.