He chews and spits, as there he sits, and whittles at the chairs,
And in his hand, for deadly strife, a bowie-knife he bears.
“Avoid that knife! in frequent strife its blade, so long and thin,
Has found itself a resting place his rival’s ribs within.”
But coward fear came never near young Jabez Dollar’s heart;
“Were he an alligator, I would rile him pretty smart!”
Then up he rose, and cleared his nose, and looked toward the chair,
He saw the stately stars and stripes—our country’s flag was there!
His heart beat high, with savage cry upon the floor he sprang,
Then raised his wrist, and shook his fist, and spoke his first harangue.