The toughs don’t dast ter dicker
With enny kind o’ Baptis’ ring—
Leastways when’t comes ter likker.
III
The Mocking Bird
I was drinkin’ in the glory on a day
Late in May,
Feelin’ dreamy an’ delishus, like a chick’n,
When she’s pick’n
Tiny pebbles out o’ gravel, or a-fluffin’
An’ a-puffin’