The Deacon couldn’t stop him at the gate;
The more he pulled the faster Mose would go;
Jerusha grabbed one line and hollered: “Whoa!”
Which swung him in; the buggy with a crash,
Swinging against the horse-block, went to smash.
The pastor said: “I hope you broke no bones,
Although you broke the Sabbath, Deacon Jones.”
“Don’t blame this onto Sile,” Jerusha said:
“But on that hoss; you know he’s Jewish bred,
An’ won’t do nothin’ Saturday but rest;