They met—they closed—they sank—they rose,—in vain young Dollar strove—
For, like a streak of lightning greased, the infuriate Colonel drove
His bowie-blade deep in his side, and to the ground they rolled,
And, drenched in gore, wheeled o’er and o’er, locked in each other’s hold.
With fury dumb—with nail and thumb—they struggled and they thrust,
The blood ran red from Dollar’s side, like rain, upon the dust;
He nerved his might for one last spring, and as he sank and died,
Reft of an eye, his enemy fell groaning by his side.
Thus did he fall within the hall of Congress, that brave youth;
The bowie-knife has quenched his life of valour and of truth;
And still among the statesmen throng at Washington they tell
How nobly Dollar gouged his man—how gallantly he fell.
The Alabama Duel.
“Young chaps, give ear, the case is clear. You, Silas Fixings, you
Pay Mister Nehemiah Dodge them dollars as you’re due.
You are a bloody cheat,—you are. But spite of all your tricks, it
Is not in you Judge Lynch to do. No! nohow you can fix it!”