The new North-west. [volume] (Deer Lodge, Mont.) 1869-1897, 1872-06-01
POETRY.
DEACON BROWN.
L Dialect Excuse for q DEED uan.

~S~O ASAOOOO SO0 - wv AAWo
DY SoaH PAN. -
lts Deacon Brown ysr asking ahosts ...
He hasn't been round for year; :.
They planted him Ut last kihhaes tioA
Which b why hs isn't here.
Fur p'raps we obsarved - gin'nl thing
Thet this lyin' under ground
For year or two don't make one tel N.
Pretty uuch like sloshin' round.
HE kesTickses. chr What, Old Dssc. 0row,s
Well I'm ruthcr 'shamed u aay
Thet hs want much the aost o saint
BOT up by Harte and Hay. =..
he never cuseed In his natral liIs- w# mm
Imsntjop this with consaru- 4
He didn't know how. though be might q ksowa
II be he'd cared tr laru. s@
But II makes It rough fsr ths chap that esss
The writin' Of his biog. H
To hev tes confeea he's Z slirgin' ink y.
Over sich . bump on . log.
Who didn't amount to Shncks in row,
Who never war out on Z tear.
And fur tackl,n' neat little game q "dnv,"
Couldn't tell full from pair. w'
Fur the Deac. jest war . common cuss
O the mOst Ornarieat kind,
Who never looked out o the windss o sia,
And dusnt raise hlipd.
Ye've NO idee how parvarse he Vas:
I've heard him rcmart-this limbl .. A..
Thct though he were raised In . ChEiselaa Land,
One wife war enough fur him.
HE canal boat onct-it was yess ago,
When drivers both druv and stcered-
Run agin the hank jest above Penn Yam,
n ANNA ~ A~l,~r
The pilot rot 10 the ingin-room,
Aud hele bic nozzle and swsre,
But the Dcac. spread hisseN At the gang plank
A handin' the lsdi.s ashore.
P'raps the Deac.. ef he'd he'd the rearin' o soma,
Would pannsd ont better that trip;
But considerin' Of his broughteus up,
He didn't quite lose bic grip.
Onfortuut.like fur the Deac an ms
He'd careful nisin' to hum;
An yer can't spect much of chap. Yer know,
OIlcss be sprouts frOm slum
81 he'd hcen high.tonrd gambolies.
Or the rough of = mining camp.
With bushcl Ut ein In his kenicsse,
An touch Of ssiry Camp.
Or IN inJincer or an injiu thar
Any kind of rum .histin lout-
Peraps he'd done some pretty bix thing
Fur me 70 be splurxinx about.
But be jeat plugged on in 4 no count wsy,
lesdin' good squsr life,
Till the war KEN on--thcn he pulled up stakes,
An ssid good bye ter h,s wife.
I've hcasu tell grittisr man nor him
In battle never trod,
An he didn't let down In the facs o( Death.
Although be believed in God
It's queer how he fout At Frsdesicksburg-
The Deac. Just went In wet,
A peayin an shoot'n. an every time
fetchin bis man you bst.
See be want sustained BY the soothin' thought,
When he fell-Octobcr leycuth--
That he'd knOckd spots out tho commsndiments,
Aad hess special rossh % thessvsseA. .-
Jest over beyont thet turnip patch.
Some twenty holes yer kin rec,
Thet air filed BY chaps who went from here
TO fight gin General Lee.
They went from here bout plantin' time
They KEN back when oou wss ripe.
An We buried 'em BY that walnut trss-
All chaps Ut the Dcac0n's stripe.
Wen croee over there to the Old mans grave,
And guess III b. gittin' then
Yet pardon, stranger. allers uuroof
A, the grave O. thst soss . men.
I've been gassin' away pr0miscas like,
Bot now ! make hold ter cay,
It don't f0ller on mans sneak
Cause ne lives In decent way.
! know come folks rrck'n contrairywise
An cling thsir Ink Qsits free.
But they haint gut holt Tie right end q X,
Accosdn' to my idee. :.
An thst's why i've sort o bess chippin' II,
A pesdin' the Dcacons excuse,
For yoa Know No can't al Be eamhlsss and thieves.
An all women needn't be Loose.
--NeO Xoek Tslss.