Ev’ry eddy stands a-ready for to swing ’em in a
waltz.
An’ ev’ry rock is chock-a-block with jack-strawed
pine an’ spruce,
Ontil you’ve got the devil’s job to try and turn
’em loose.
But our goadstick is the peavy, an’ our cant-dog
is the pup
That’ll worry ’em an’ hurry ’em an’ rush ’em,
chase ’em up.