When t’other one was treed;
The same when Luck was in full bloom,
As when she run to seed.
[100]
]But now I’m getting old and hipped,
And kick against the ruts,
I often think I’ll have a pray,
But can’t sit down fer nuts—
And Dave ’ud say, “A prayin’ pea,
He’s never got no guts!”
D’ye think it’s true, this ’ere report