Yanker a Mormon preached once, Doin' prayin' an' singin' stunts On the streets; they opened court, Bloss wuz hittin' gin an' port. An', says he: "Hit seems to me As this Mormon sancti-tee Sorter bunches as beehives- Honey, hell an' howlin' wives." An' that Mormon give a sigh, Kinder shet his soulful eye; Pulled a gun, a forty-five, Looked at Bloss an' let her drive. Sech a yell an' sech a crash! Bloss went through the winder-sash. "Hold him, Peters! Hold him, Cook!" He's shot clean through the Statue book!" Ole Bloss Felton's keepin' store, Says, "Fer me the bench no more. Strangest thing I ever saw How that Mormon queered the law!" THERE'S WEEPIN' UP THE HOLLER Oh, there's weepin' up the holler, An' the joy has gone away, An' a heavy sorrow hangs above 'em all; Harvey Cobb, down at the ferry, Killed his friend the other day- Killed the old friend of his boyhood, Benjie Hall. They were gamblin' at the ferry, An' the witness as was there Says they both had been a-drinkin' party hard, An' Benjie says to Harvey: "Harv, you aint a totin' fair, For I see you when you rech an' stole that ear'.'