Hank, them times war attractive, And I drank like the rest; As months pars’d it grew on me, Till I swigg’d with the best— Pour’d it down with a zest. Then reelin’ home late at night The little ones would creep Erway ter Merlinder’s room With thar mother ter weep In vain effort ter sleep! As years pars’d I grew keerless— My farm went ter the duce— And I hurl’d at my treasures— Thinkin’ I had excuse— Vile curses and erbuse! One night I went home much later And prepar’d ter rertire; In my drink I upset the lamp— Then the house war afire, And my terror war dire! I stagger’d out ter the yard And call’d for help. Ter late! They got out all my children But baby—little Kate— Who met a dreadful fate! The next mornin’, when sober’d, I found my infant dead,— Her body charr’d and blackened— Her death war on my head! My love for whisky fled? Berside that rough pine coffin I knelt me down and wept, And register’d a vow thar, Whar little Katey slept, Hank Rowland, I have kept! ’Twar this: never ter touch it— This stuff they have nam’d Gin, What’s draggin’ others ter whar I, findin’ out my sin, Rerfus’d ter suck it in! A smile is it, Hank Rowland, Ye invite me ter take, At the bar of Pete Moody, Jist for the old time sake, And ter keep me erwake? No, Hank, none of it for me! ’Twould make the engels groan Ter see me touch it. I pars! (Rather be cheng’d ter stone) Jist run the hand alone! THE SIGN OF JOE BALL. Ed Colby, yer noted for yer stories What are marvelous, while thar true, And I know ye’ll relish a good one, So I will rercite it ter you. A few nights ago I kinder crav’d for A small morsel of sassage meat, And, jist seizin’ my hat from the mantel, I hurri’d out inter the street. At the shop of Joe Ball I diskiver’d Some what look’d superbly nice; The stamps war put down, and them sassages War mine at a nomernal price. I carri’d them ter my house in triumph, Without gettin’ scratch’d in the least, And, sev’rin’ some, waited for daylight Ter enjoy a savory feast. I war up with the crow of the rooster, And went for my sassages straight. I be gol durn’d if one wasn’t purrin’, And rubbin’ himself ’gin the gate! Another had crawl’d ter the parlor, Whar he crouched down and purr’d, And wistfully watch’d a wire cage Whar slumber’d my favorite bird! Two others I found in the coal cellar, Anxiously layin’ for rats: While another had her head in a pitcher Whar wife kept the milk for the cats! I next look’d erbout for the balance, And, an oath I thar gave vent ter. Though thar tails war tied they war creepin’ Erway from a common center!