Worcester daily spy., 1858-08-26
SPY..T RSDAY, AUGUST

The following capital story is from "T The Autocra
Of the Breakfast TEble in the September number of tn
ALaHtie Monthly:
The DeacOn's Masterpiece,
OR THE WONDERFUL ONE-Hoss-sHAY."
LOGICAL STORY.
Have you heard Of the wonderful one-hoss.shay,
That was built 10 such logical way
1t ran hundred years to a day,
And then, OF a sudden, it-ah hut stay,
III tell you what happened without delsy,
Soaring the parson into fits,
Frightening people out of their Wits
Have you ever heard Of that sayf
Seventeen hundred and hfty.hVe.
GeOrgius SecuniIs was then alive
hnuty old drone from the German hive!
That vas the year when Lisbon-toEn
saw the earth open and gulp her down,
and Braddock's army was done so brown,
Left without scalp to its crown
1t was on the terrible Earthquake day
That the Deacon finished the one-hoss shay.
Now in building Of chaises, tell you what,
There is always Somewhere weakest spot,-
In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or th,
In pannel, or crossbar, or floor, or sill,
In screw, bolt, NOTWITHSTANDING still
Find it somewhere you must and wil,-
Above or below, or within or Eithout,-
And that's the reasO0, beyond doubt,
chalse breaks dOlDu, but doesn't wear OUT
But the Deauou swore tas Deacons do,
" ltu Sn Il ueW YUM" or an IL tell yeOh,')
he would build one shay to beat the raown
IN the keounty N all the keutry raoun'j
1t should be so built that it CoHLin' break daown;
Fur" said the Deacon, 20 mighty plain
Thut the weakes' place mus STAN the strain;
IN the way t fix It, uz I maintain,
Is only Jest
To make that place uz strong uz the rest"
So the Deacon inquired of the village folk
Where he could fnd the strongest oak,
Ihat couldn't be split, nor bent nor broke
That was for spokes, and floors, and sillsj
He sent for lancewood to make the thillsj
Ihe crossbas were ash, from the straightest treesj
The pNnnes of whitewood, that cuts like cheese
But lasts like iron for things like these;
The hubs Of logs from the "Settler's ellnm,"
Last Of its timber,-they couldn't sell 'em,-
Never an axe had seen their chips,
And the wedges few from between their lips,
Their blunt ends frzsed like celery tips;
step and prOp-rou, bolt and screw,
Spring, tire, axle, and liuchpin, too,
steel OF the finest, bright and blue;
Hhoroughbrace bson-skin, thick ard wide;
Boot, togp, dasher, from tough old hide
Found in the pit where the tanner died.
That was the way he put her through"
There" said the Deacon, "Naow shell dew !"
Do tell you, rather guess
she was wonder, and nothing .ss
Colts grew HORSES boards turned gray,
Deacon and deaconvss dropped away,
children and grand chdren-wheie were they
But there stood the stout old one-hoss shay
AS fresh as on Lisbon earthquake day
EIGHTEEN HUNDRED; it came and found
Inc Deacon's Masterpiece strong and sound.
Eighteen hundred increased by ten;-
"Hansum kerridge' they called it then.
Eighteen hundred and twenty camel
Kuoning as usual; much the same.
Thirty and forty at last arrive,
And then came fifty and FIFTY-FIvE.
Little of all we value here
Wakes On the nom Of its hundreit year
Without both feeling and looking que,r
ln fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth,
So far Rs know, but tree and truth.
(Ihis IS moral that at large;
TAKE It, You're welcome. No extra charge.)
FIRST OF NovEMBER,-tne Earthquake day,
There are traces of age in the one hoss shay,
general flavor of mild decay
But nothing local, one may say.
There couldn't be, for the Deacon's art
Had made it so like in every part
Ihat there wasn't chance for one to start.
For the wheels were just strong as the thllls,.
And the floor was just as strong as the stills,
And the pannels just as strong the floor
ard the whth etree neither less nor more,
And the back crossbar strong as the fore,
And spring, and axle aud hue encore.
And yet as a lOh0fe, it is pa a doubt
In another holr it " Il be aVOTH suU
First Of November, Fifty five!
This morning he parsoD takes A drive.
Nov, small boys, get out Of the way!
Here comes he Ronderful one boss shay,
Drawn by rat tailed, eve necked bay.
huouap, sad the parson Oh went they.
Tde parson was working his sunday's text,
Had got to ffthiv, and stopped psrplexed
At what the-Moses-was coming next.
All at once the horse stood still,
Close by the meetn' house on the hill
First shivsr, and then a thrill
Then something decidedly like a spill
Aud the pars0n was sitting upon rock,
At half past nine by the meetin- house clock
Just the hour Of the Earthquake Shock!
What do you think the parson found
When he got up and stared aroundl
The poor old chaise in heap or MOUND
As if it had been to the mill and grouus!
You see, of course, if you're not a Ounce
How it went to pieces all at ONCE
All at once, and nothing first
Just as pebbles do when they burst.
End of the wonderiulone boss shay.
LOgic logic That's all say.