Bijah. Indeed I do. When old Deacon Sasafrass visited the school he always wanted something original; so, one day, thought I'd give it to him. Let me think—yes, I have it. (Recites with awkward gestures.)
Our yaller hen has broke her leg,
Oh, never more she'll lay an egg.
The brindle cow has gone plumb dry,
And sister Sue has spoiled a pie.
Thus earth is full of sin and sorrow,
We're here to-day and gone to-morrow.
Ha, ha, Polly! Those were good times in Oldtown. Do you remember them?
Polly. Do I? Don't I?
Bijah. When I thought you were the purtiest girl in town; when the sight of you in your best bib and tucker made me feel as though there were an ice-cream factory in full operation on one side, and a hot air furnace on the other.
Polly. Oh, Bijah!
Bijah. But times are changed. The girls are changed, but you, Polly, are still a purty—
Polly. Oh, Bijah!
Bijah. Old girl.