(By that old gal I’m much esteemed,
Ez she hez often hinted).
Oh, if I had that critter neow,
You bet your boots I’d larn him
In mighty lively fashion heow
To walk the chalk, gol darn him!
Meanwhile, between his folks an’ mine
The breach grows wide an’ wider,
And, by the way, it’s my design
To give up drinkin’ cider.