Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1858-09-03
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THE DEACoN's MASTERPIECE;

THE DEACON'S MASTERPIECE;
R THE WONDERFUL "oNEHoRsE SHAY
LOGICAL STORY.
IFrom Ire Aufocraf IN tie Atiaafic Monthly.l
Have you heard Of the wonderful one-horse-shay
That was built IN such logical way
II ran a hundred years, TO day,
And then Of a sudden, 1t All, but stay,
I'll tell you what happened without delay,
Soaring the parson into cts,
Frightening people ont Of their wis.,
Have you heard Of that, | say
Seventeen hundred and fhy-fyc.
Georgiu Scctndis was then alive
Suufy old dronc from the German hive
This was the wear when Lisbon-town
Saw the earth open and gulph her down,
And Braddock's army was done so brown,
1eft without a scalp to It's crown
II 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 soglcschcre weakest spot
In hub, tire, fclloc in spring or thill
In PANEL OF crosshar, OF floor or SILL
In screw, bolt, oroughbrace-lurking still,
Find It somewhere you must and will
Above or below, or within or without
And that's the reason. beyond doubt.
A chaise brcaks dorm, hut doesn't neuy out.
But the Deacon swore las Dcacors do,
With an 81 dew vum," or an 81 tell ye0u,
He wonld build one shay to boat the iaown
n the keounty n all the kentry raoun'
]; should be so built that it ootidn break daown!
Fur" said the Deacon. "ts mighty plain
Thet the weakes place mus, stan the strain;
n the way FIX II w ! maintain,
Is only Jest
To make the place strong w the rest
So the Deacon inquired Of the village folk
Where he could find the strongest oak,
That couldn't be split, nor bent nor BROKE
That was for spokes. and hoor and alls;
lie sent for lAnccwood 20 make the thills;
The crossbars ash, from the siraightest trees
The panels OF white wood, that cuts like cheese,
But lasts like iron for things like these;
The hubs Of logs nom the "Scttlef's ellum'-
Last Of It's tinhor--ihey couldn't sell en-
Never an Ak had seen their chips,
And the wedges few from between their lips,
Their blunt ends frizzled like celery tips;
Step and prOp-iron, bolt and screw,
Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too,
Steel Of the finest bright and blues
Thorough-hracc bison-skin, thick and wide;
Boot top dasher from tough Old hide
Found in the pit when the tanner died.
That was the way he 'put her through
"Thcre" said the Deacon 'naow she'll dew :"
Do tell you. rather guess
She was n wonder, and nothing less
Colts grew horses, heads turned gray,
Deacon and deacouess dropped away,
Children and grand-childrcn-w where were they
But there stood the stout old ono-hoss shay,
As fresh as on Lishon-earthquake-day.
EIonTFrN HrsDRED-ii came and found
The Dcacon's Masterpiece strong and sound
Eighteen hundred increased by ten
"Hansum kcrrdge" they called it then.
Eighteen hundred and twenty camel
Running as usual, much the same.
Thirty and forty at last arrived,
And then came tity and rIFrYrrvE.
Little Of all we value here
Wakes on the morn Of its hundrcth year
Without both feeling and looking queer
In fact there's nothing that keeps It's youth,
So far as know, but tree aud truth,
This is q moral that runs al large;
Take it-Iou'rc welcomc.--NO extra charged
FIRST or NovRMnER--thc Earthquake day,
There are traces Of aye in the unehoss-shay,
general flavor If mild decay,
But nothing local, as one may say.
There couldn't br--fur the Dcacon's art
Had made it so like in every part
That there wasn't chance for onc TO start
For the wheels were just as strong "a the thills,
And the floor was just as strong a, the stills,
Aud the panels just as strong as the floor.
And the whife-tree neither loss nor more,
And the back cross-bar as strong as the fore,
And spring and axle and hub encore.
And yet, as n whole, il Is past doubt
In another hour it will be ror5i ont
Firs, Of November 'ffty-fvei
This morning the Parson takes a drive.
Nov, small boys, get out Of the way
Here comes the wonderful one-hoss shay
Drawn by a rat-tailed, ewe-neoked bay.
"Huddup," said the parson.-Oh went they.
The parson was working his Sundays text
Had got to 6ffhiy, and stopped perpexed
AT what them oses-was coming next.
All at once the horse stood still,
Close by the meet'n house on the hill
First a SILVER. and then a thrill,
Then something decidedly like a spill
And the parson was sitting upon rock
A, haifpast nine by the meet house clock
Just at The hour Of the Earthquakc-shock
What do you think the parson found,
When he got up and stared around
The poor old chaise in a heap or mound,
As II it had been TO the mill and ground
You see, OF course. II you're not Ounce,
How it went to pieces all at once
All at once, aud nothing first
Just as bubbles do, when they burst.
End Of the wonderful onc-hoss-shay.
Logic is logic. That's all say.