Some fellers reckon, more or less, Before they speak their mind, And sometimes calkerlate or guess,-- But them ain't Dan'l's kind. The Lord knows all things, great or small, With doubt he's never vexed; He, in his wisdom, knows it all,-- But Dan'l Hanks comes next. Says I, "How d' yer know you're right?" "How do I _know_?" says he; "Well, now, I vum! I know, by gum! I'm right because I _be_!" * * * * * THE TIN PEDDLER Jason White has come ter town Drivin' his tin peddler's cart, Pans a-bangin' up an' down Like they'd tear theirselves apart; Kittles rattlin' underneath, Coal-hods scrapin' out a song,-- Makes a feller grit his teeth When old Jason comes along. Jason drives a sorrel mare, Bones an' skin at all her j'ints, "Blooded stock," says Jase; "I swear, Jest see how she shows her p'ints! Walkin' 's her best lay," says he, Eyes a-twinklin' full of fun, "Named her Keely Motor. See? Sich hard work ter make her run." Jason's jest the slickest scamp, Full of jokes as he can hold; Says he beats Aladdin's lamp, Givin' out new stuff fer old; "Buy your rags fer more 'n they're worth, Give yer bran'-new, shiny tin, I'm the softest snap on earth," Says old Jason, with a grin. Jason gits the women's ear Tellin' news and talkin' dress; Can 't be peddlin' forty year An' not know 'em more or less; Children like him; sakes alive! Why, my Jim, the other night, Says, "When I git big I'll drive Peddler's cart, like Jason White!" * * * * * "SARY EMMA'S PHOTYGRAPHS" Our Sary Emma is possessed ter be at somethin' queer; She's allers doin' loony things, unheard of fur and near. One time there wa'n't no limit ter the distance she would tramp Ter get a good-fer-nothin', wuthless, cancelled postage-stamp; Another spell folks couldn't rest ontil, by hook or crook, She got 'em all ter write their names inside a leetle book; But though them fits was bad enough, the wust is nowadays, Fer now she's got that pesky freak, the photygraphin' craze. She had ter have a camera--and them things cost a sight-- So she took up subscriptions fer the "Woman's Home Delight" And got one fer a premium--a blamed new-fangled thing, That takes a tin-type sudden, when she presses on a spring; And sence she got it, sakes alive! there's nothin' on the place That hain't been pictured lookin' like a horrible disgrace: The pigs, the cows, the horse, the colt, the chickens large and small; She goes a-gunnin' fer 'em, and she bags 'em, one and all.