Calabash, can, keg, and kettle; and Nathan’s prime lot of tin fixin’s,
Crockery, also, went off at figgers that beat to eternal
Smash all prices he’d thought, in dreams e’en, of e’er realisin’.
Soon the traders upped hook, and the editor talked edifyin’
All about lucre and dross; and the lawyer convened it was awful;
Till one mornin’ trampoused the lawyer and editor with him.
Off were the trappers for beaver, they said, but “it warn’t noways likely,”
Nathan remarked, “they would strike beaver-trail in them there locations.”
Then the captings went too, they said, to bring back their sailors;
And as it stands to natur’, their customers followed the captings.