Meek ez disgestin’ deacons be at ordination dinners;
Ef any on ’em turned an’ snapped, I let ’em kin’ o’ taste
My live-oak leg, an’ so, ye see, ther’ warn’t no gret o’ waste,
Fer they found out in quicker time than ef they’d ben to college
’T warn’t heartier food than though ’t wuz made out o’ the tree o’ knowledge.
But I tell you my other leg hed larned wut pizon-nettle meant,
An’ var’ous other usefle things, afore I reached a settlement,
An’ all o’ me thet wuz n’t sore an’ sendin’ prickles thru me
Wuz jest the leg I parted with in lickin’ Montezumy:
A usefle limb it ’s ben to me, an’ more of a support