An' we come up clost and closter, but the deer he
didn't run;
An' Philo shet his teeth so hard he split his brier-
root
As he held his breath a-waitin' an' expectin' me to
shoot.
I could kind o' feel him hanker, I could kind o'
hear him think,
An' we'd come so nigh the animal we didn't dast
to wink,