[Gret Gran'f'ther.]
What! take Gret Gran'f'ther's musket,
Thet he kerried at Bunker Hill,
An' go a-gunnin' fer sparrers
With Solomon Judd an' Bill?
You let thet musket alone, Dan'l!
An' git down from thet air stool.
You've just time enough to hold this yarn
Afore ye go off to school.
Thar! don't ye wriggle an' twist, sonny!
The yarn's fer yer own new socks;
It's safer to hold than muskets,
With their triggers an' riggers an' locks.
A musket to shoot at sparrers!
Wal, boys is up to sech tricks!
An' thet old un, too, thet ain't ben tetched
Sence seventeen seventy-six!
But I set more store by its rusty stock,
Than the finest money could buy;
An' if you'll stan' stiddy, Dan'l,
I'll tell ye the reason why.
You never seed Gret Gran'f'ther,
But you've seed his pictur, boy,
With the smilin' mouth, an' the big brown eyes
Jes' brimmin' with life and joy.
Wal! he war'n't like thet when I seed him,
But his sperrit was lively still,
Fer all his white hair an' empty sleeve,
As it was at Bunker Hill.