Enough to make their throttles howl,
While we whom Jesus died to teach
Fought round on round, three minutes each.
And thinking that, you'll understand
I thought, 'I'll go and take Bill's hand.
I'll up and say the fault was mine,
He sha'n't make play for these here swine.'
And then I thought that that was silly,
They'd think I was afraid of Billy:
They'd think (I thought it, God forgive me)