Towards the pootiest, bless her,
An’ leetle flames danced all about
The chiny on the dresser....
The very room, coz she was in,
Seemed warm from floor to ceilin’,
An’ she looked full ez rosy agin
Ez the apples she was peelin’....
He was six foot o’ man, A1,
Clear grit an’ human natur’;
None couldn’t quicker pitch a ton