BY H. H. BROWNELL.
As vonce I valked by a dismal swamp,
There sot an old cove in the dark and damp,
And at everybody as passed that road
A stick or a stone this old cove throwed.
And venever he flung his stick or his stone,
He’d set up a song of “Let me alone.”
“Let me alone, for I loves to shy
These bits of things at the passers-by;
Let me alone, for I’ve got your tin,
And lots of other traps snugly in;
Let me alone–I am rigging a boat
To grab votever you’ve got adout;
In a week or so I expects to come,
And turn you out of your ouse and ome;
I’m a quiet old cove,” says he, with a groan;
‘All I axes, is, Let me alone.”
Just then came along, on the self same vay,
Another old cove, and began for to say:
“Let you alone! That’s comin’ it strong!
You’ve ben let alone–a darned sight too long!
Of all the sarce that ever I heerd!
Put down that stick! (You may well look skeered.)
Let go that stone! If you once show fight,
I’ll knock you higher than sry kite.
“You must have a lesson to stop your tricks,
And cure you of shying them stones and sticks;
And I’ll have my hardware back, and my cash,
And knock your scow into tarnal smash;
And if ever I catches you round my ranch,
I’ll string you up to the nearest branch.
the best you can do is to go to bed,
And keep a decent tongue in your head;
For I reckon, before you and I are done,
You’ll wish you had let honest folks alone.”
The old cove stopped, and the other old cove,
He sot quite still in his cypress grove,
And he looked at his stick, revolvin’ slow,
Vether ’twere safe to shy it or no;
And he grumbled on, in an injured tone,
‘All that I axed vos, “Let me alone.”
Originally posted 2008-02-26 15:47:32.