St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1888-07-28
GRET GRAN'F'THER,

What take G5et Gran'f'ther's musket
Thet he kerried at Bunker Hill,
AN go a-gunnfn' for sparrers
With Solomon Judd and Bill?
You let that musket alone, Dan'll
An git down from tibet air stook
you've Jest time enough to hold this yarn
Afore We 60 of to school.
Thar! don't We wriggle and twist Sonny!
The yarns for yer own new socks.
Its safer to hold than muskets,
With their triggers and riggers and locks.
"A musket, to shoot at sparrers!
Well, boys is up to sech tricks!
And that old one, too, that amt been touche
Sence Seventeen Seventy-six!
But set more store by its rusty stock
Than the finest money can buy;
And If you'll stand Study, Dan1,
I'll tell We the reason why.
We never see Gret Grant Their,
But you've seed his pictur, boy,
With the smilin' mouth, an the big brown
eyes.
.Jcs' brimmin' with life an joy.
Well, he warn't like that when seed him,
But his sperrit were lively still
For all his white hair an empty sleeve,
AS 1t war at Bunker Hill
An many's the time he told me,
Settin here in this very cheer
oi the fust time he shouldered that musket
In the Continental Year
How out in the field a-mowin',
He seed the baynets glance
An ran for his gun with lighter heart
Ihan ever he went to a dance.
Jest as he warm his shirt sleeves,
For the weather war warm an bright
An no hat-but should rim his musket,
Gret Gran'fther went to the fight.
An thar on Bunker hillside
Whar the smoke hung thick an gray,
He went a-gunnin fer redcoats
AS you'd go for sparrers to-day.
Hey! but the balls were whistlin'
An the flashes KEN thick an fast.
But whos'ever musket had fust word,
Gret Gran f'ther's had the last.
Then gunner war shot beside him,
That handled sx-pound gun;
An they called for man to tend her,
An Gran + Their said he war one
I afnt never fred gum" says he,
But Ill do my proudful best!
An If all you want is q man, Colonel,
m mebbe as good as the rest"
An reckon he war! for he stood thar,
An fired that six -pound gun,
Until every redcoat within his range
Had either dropped or run.
Then all of student, there came a flash,
A crack, an a twinge, an thrill,
An Gran f Tiers right arm dropped by his
side,
An hung thar limp an still.
Jes' for minute, I've heerd him say,
The hull world seemed to reel
An hummin' sound war in his ears
Like Gran m Tiers spinnin' wheel
But he hadn't no time fer faintin',
Nor he hadn't no time fer pain.
It's well I'm left-handed." says Gran'rther;
An he fred the gun again.
Bimeby. when the Colonel found him.
AFTER the fight war done,
He war lyin' all Elack like Niger
An senseless, along by the gun.
Then the boys made kind o. stretcher;
An jest as they laid him atop,
He whispered: Thar warn't no balls. Colonel.
So was ob1eeged ter STOP
Yes! that war the way Gret Gran'rther fit
An the way he lost his arm:
But he shot with his left till the land war
free,
An then he come back to the farm.
An he laid his musket acrost them hooks,
An thar it's laid to this day.
An spite O you an the sparrers, Dan'L
Thar's whar it's gon' to stay.
The school bell run now, Sonny boy?
N han NIL far
What's that? ay! "Hurrah for Gret Gram
fther''
An 'Hurrah fer Bunker Hilli"
Mrs. Laura E. Richards, in Youths Com
pQni0R.