"Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! When I last saw the place, The scenes was all changed, like the change in my face; The bridge of the railroad now crosses the spot Whare the old divin'-log lays sunk and fergot. And I strayed down the banks whare the trees ust to be-- But never again will theyr shade shelter me! And I wisht in my sorrow I could strip to the soul, And dive off in my grave like the old swimmin'-hole." My applause was long and loud. The old man's interpretation of the poem was a positive revelation, though I was glad enough to conceal from him my moistened eyes by looking through the scraps for other specimens of his verse. "Here," said I enthusiastically, "is another one, signed 'Benj. F. Johnson,' read me this," and I handed him the poem. The old man smiled and took the manuscript. "This-here one's on '_The Hoss_,'" he said, simply clearing his throat. "They ain't so much fancy-work about this as the other'n, but they's jest as much _fact_, you can bet--'cause, they're no animal a-livin' 'at I love better 'an "THE HOSS" "The hoss he is a splendud beast; He is man's friend, as heaven desined, And, search the world from west to east, No honester you'll ever find! "Some calls the hoss 'a pore dumb brute,' And yit, like Him who died fer you, I say, as I theyr charge refute, 'Fergive; they know not what they do!' "No wiser animal makes tracks Upon these earthly shores, and hence Arose the axium, true as facts, Extoled by all, as 'Good hoss-sense!' "The hoss is strong, and knows his stren'th,-- You hitch him up a time er two And lash him, and he'll go his len'th And kick the dashboard out fer you! "But, treat him allus good and kind, And never strike him with a stick, Ner aggervate him, and you'll find He'll never do a hostile trick. "A hoss whose master tends him right And worters him with daily care, Will do your biddin' with delight, And act as docile as _you_ air. "He'll paw and prance to hear your praise, Because he's learnt to love you well; And, though you can't tell what he says, He'll nicker all he wants to tell. "He knows you when you slam the gate At early dawn, upon your way Unto the barn, and snorts elate, To git his corn, er oats, er hay. "He knows you, as the orphant knows The folks that loves her like theyr own, And raises her and 'finds' her clothes, And 'schools' her tel a womern-grown! "I claim no hoss will harm a man, Ner kick, ner run away, cavort, Stump-suck, er balk, er 'catamaran,' Ef you'll jest treat him as you ort. "But when I see the beast abused And clubbed around as I've saw some, I want to see his owner noosed, And jest yanked up like Absolum!