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'.'