—A cikerloon, as they say West—
A-boomin’ on like all possesst.
And Zekel see’d to his consarn
’Twas bound plumb straight for his new barn.
“’Twas crickitul,” says he. “Thinks I,
I’ve got to be almighty spry.
If somethin’ ain’t done kind o’ brash
That barn will get chawed inter hash.
It don’t take long for me to think,
And what I done was quicker’n wink.