Thar ’e rested a hour a-huggin’ the tree
Till at last ’e decided ’twas safe ter work free.
But ’e couldn’t giddown—stuck right whar ’e was
A-wond’rin’ wottell ’s ailin’ graverty’s laws!
He shoved an’ ’e squeezed an’ ’e sweat with a will,
An’ ’is legs was woun’ tight round thet hickory, till—
Dog tater my black cat’s kittens!—he found
He hed be’n settin’ thar all the while on the ground!”
XIX
Bill on Tobacco
I lit my pipe, an’ set with Bill a spell