Old Hagenschmit, behind his house,
His new Dutch pipe was trying,
When—bing! the bullet smashed the bowl
And sent the pieces flying!
“Who put dot bombshell in my pipe?”
Exclaimed the startled smoker.
“If I could git my hands on him,
Dere would be vone less joker!”
[{19}]
A pear-tree, seen above the wall,
With fruit was laden down,
And Ned, below, appeared to be
The saddest boy in town;
Just then the restless bullet passed,
And clipped a branching limb
Which bore a dozen pears or more
And passed it down to him!
[{21}]
G. Foozleman, in high silk hat,
Along the street was trailing,
When through the crown the bullet sped
And sent his hat a-sailing!
“What do you mean, sir,” blurted he,
To Harvey Jones, behind him,
“By knocking off my high silk hat?”
But Harvey didn’t mind him.
[{23}]