all! You’d’a’ thrown one with a corner!”
Wal, ye’d think a dig of that sort would have
shamed him ha’f to death,
But, Land o’ Goshen, neighbor,—hain’t no mor-
tifyin’ Seth!
—Jest a waste of breath
To jab at Uncle Seth,
He’s holler where the soul should be—hain’t
got no human peth.
He’s deef to ev’ry cry of want and don’t know