American telegraph. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1851-1851, 1851-06-07
AMERICAN TELEGRAPH
For the American Telegraph.
BOB DINGLE'S JAUNT.
by JOEL AUSTIN.

IN TWO PARTs.-PART III.
Concluded.
Pharaoh. bank" was cross the road,
Ana thar We went when We got done
was, as Beau says, "eenmost thowed,"
And " in-for any sort o. fun"
played and played, with one or two,
Oniil didn't have cent,
Except that dime the hole was thew;
All dad had gev' I'd gone and spent;
That sober,d me bit, and made
Me think O. goin' right straight home,
But Beau says, Supper's Almost laid
They charges nothin' y all TO come"
Sure 'nuff, he'd hardly spoke the word,
And ended with his usual jerk,
Afore the poppin' colks was heard,
And knivesland forks was hard ut work.
! lit, jest like chicken-hawk,.
80. Upon that shGm-lain, and them duck:
drirked so much ] couldn't talk
And didn't care no more fur luck
staggered out do know how
jest had sense enough to go
Where Snarley was, hiJched to the bough-
The roosters now beginned to crow.
The night was black as 1t could be-
III was, spose, nigh ON to one;
Onytwhen lightnin' flashed you'd sec,
tdy on Snarley till ne run!
The turnpike-gate went toddlin' past
l didn't stop to pay the toll;
Ole Snarley couldn't tare too fast
rld lOf very llle an soul
No bit he had--no bride on
He'd lost both, soneiioao, long ago;
One shoe was hangin', two was gone
Poor creetur', how the beast did blow
The wind was wild, the lightnin' flashed
The thunder roared most awful loud
The rain in blindin' torrents dashed--
The whole wide hevings was one clouds
/ was nigh hone---I passed the church.
The liehtnin' showed each grave-stone clare ;
Next come the murdered travellers birch
A lonesome tree, all black and bare:
driv my heels with might an main
Into old Snarley's pantin' sides;
quaked to look, but looked again,
And fast, an faster yit rides.
I'd got jest opposite the tree,} }eGa
When setch streak O. lightnin' come
/ couldn't hear no more than see
The thunder struck me mortal dumb
The birch WIS crashed from top to root,
One branch across the road was flung,
And what was left caught fire TO boot
felt as bads the man they hung.
As soon as Snarley seed the FASH u
| never knowed his heels go, higher;
And then he turns and makes q dash
Right fur the tree he seed on fire.
1t tworn't no use to pull him back
stuck on, holding by the name
ielt my hold was monstrons slack,
Without a stirrup, bit, or rein.
But all at once the darn brute stopped,
And like lump of lead dropped,
Or, ruther, like ball was sent
Fifteen good feet, ss sure's you're born,
i tumbled fore l fetched the ground;
/ made my mind up was gone,
And feared never would be found
j know'd where L tcds well enough
And wondered worn't smashed to death;
Twas in the quarry, by the bluff,
lay-wet, drunk, and out o breath.
The rain had made the bottom soft
And had slid into pool
While Snarley stood stock-still aloft,
As cf he thought aour fool
There he was found upon the brink,
Crappin the thistles round about,
Lookin less like ass, l think,
Than / did, when they drawed me out.
You never heerd poor thing cry
Like Susy did, when got home;
promised her, and dad, that
Would never want, no more, TO roam.
Ef all the young men finds in town
Is hysters. juleps, sg-gars, play
think they'd better settle down,
Like me and Suse, and keep away
AsHNGToN, June Q, 1851.