’Tain’t no use er backin’ chances, ner er fightin’
back at Luck,
—Less ye have some way er startin’, feller’s
sartin to be stuck.
Needs a slarnt to git yer going”—then them
young uns give a carnt,
—Plank went up an’ down old Boggs went—
yas, he got it, got his slarnt.
Course the young uns shouldn’t done it—sent
mine off along to bed—