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'.'