But now what to do there arose a great doubt, For Bruin and Johnson had both just found out What neither had thought of until 'twas too late, That each was exposed to a merciless fate At the hands, or the teeth, or the claws of the other, At which _neither_ could his astonishment smother, And neither knew what it was safest to do; 'Twas _hard_ to hold on, but 'twas worse to let go! Now Johnson still being not far from his house, Bethought him in time of his excellent spouse, So he hooted and hallooed and made such a noise She distinguished at last his affectionate voice, Calling loudly for help as it rose on the breeze, Like the panther's wild scream in the tops of the trees: 'O Julee, dear Julee! come, help me this time, And I never again--will--(oh! bother the rhyme,) Will bite you, or scratch you, or whip you, not I, But love and protect you till you or I die.' Now good Mistress Johnson, dear soul, when she heard The piteous cries of her penitent lord, Got herself to the wood with broom-stick in hand. 'I am, most respectfully, yours to command,' Said the wife, as she came and found Tom and the bear Both hugging a tree with the grip of despair. 'O Julee, _dear_ Julee! How can you?--now come, Do help me, or quickly-confound it!--our home Won't have any master!--dear Julee, consider-- The children no daddy, and you a lone widow!' An _un_lucky hint for poor Tom, by the by, 'For worse things _might_ happen!' thought she with a sigh. But good mistress Johnson, though love was but scant, Had a heart never hewn from the worst adamant; It softened apace, so with broom-stick in air And ire in her eye she advanced on the bear, Who seeing the enemy thus reenforced Tried to get his fore-paws from Tom's clutches divorced. O woman, poor woman! dear woman! sweet thing! O light of earth's darkness! O treasure supernal! Thy fond heart, though crushed, win unceasingly cling To a loved one, though fallen, degraded, infernal! Thrice Bruin's tough hide from the broom-stick now had a cut; Quoth Johnson: 'My darling, that weapon's inadequate-- Hold a bit--let me see--now we'll fix him--here, Mother-- Reach your hand--take this paw--hold it tight--now the other. There, _I_ will dispatch him--ah! where is my gun? And bullets? dear me!--ah!--why, what have I done? I will run to the house, and be back in a trice-- Hold on, my beloved! be 'still as a mice!'' 'Quick! quick!' the wife shouted. 'Be off--get away! Make tracks, Mr. Johnson! don't stand there all day!'