Yoor letter ’n’ Maw’s, ’n’ I sure was mity glad
Ter hear thet yew all’s well an’ gittin’ ’long
Fust rate. Us boys is all a-feelin’ fine,
An’ say, we’re goin’ ter stick ter this ’ere job
Till some of us at enny rate sees thet
Ol’ Potsdam Crocodile throw up the spunge....”
(Thet’s Bill hisself all over ’gin, thinks I;
Them Anjelo-Saxtons jes’ don’t never quit.
Bill’s grate-grate-grampaw come from Summerset
Some years ’fore Jorge the IIIst. was kingin’ it