Cape Cod Ballads, and Other Verse | Page 9

ter pester them that is. The critters all despise him, but there ain't a one but feels A little mite oneasy when he's "yappin'" round their heels.
Yer see, he loves ter sneak around behind 'em, out of sight, And give a sudden snap and snarl as if he meant ter bite;?Of course they know he wouldn't hurt, and only means to scare, But still, it worries 'em ter know the little scamp is there; And if they do git nervous-like and try to hit him back?He swells up so with pride it seems as if his skin would crack; And then he's wuss than ever, so they find it doesn't pay,?But let him keep on "yappin'" till he's tired and goes away.
There's lots of people built like him--yer see 'em everywhere-- Who, 'cause they ain't no use themselves, can't somehow seem ter bear Ter see another feller rise, but in their petty spite?And natural meanness, snarl and snap and show they'd like ter bite. They don't come out in front like men, and squarely speak their mind, But like that wuthless yaller pup, they're hangin' 'round behind. They're little and contemptible, but if yer make a slip?It must be bothersome ter know they'll take that chance ter nip.
But there! perhaps it isn't right ter mind 'em, after all;?Perhaps we ought ter thank the Lord our souls ain't quite so small; And they, with all their sneakin' ways, must be, I rather guess, The thorns that prick your fingers 'round the roses of success: Fer, when yer come ter think of it, they never bark until?A feller's really started and a good ways up the hill;?So, 'f I was climbin' up ter fame I wouldn't care a rap,?But I'd think I was somebody when the curs begun ter "yap."

THE MINISTER'S WIFE
She's little and modest and purty,?As red as a rose and as sweet;?Her children don't ever look dirty,?Her kitchen ain't no way but neat.?She's the kind of a woman ter cherish,?A help ter a feller through life,?Yet every old hen in the parish?Is down on the minister's wife.
'Twas Mrs. 'Lige Hawkins begun it;?She always has had the idee?That the church was built so's she could run it,?'Cause Hawkins is deacon, yer see;?She thought that the whole congregation?Kept step ter the tune of her fife,?But she found 't was a wrong calkerlation?Applied ter the minister's wife.
Then Mrs. Jedge Jenks got excited--?She thinks she's the whole upper crust;--?When she found the Smiths was invited?Ter meet'n', she quit in disgust.?"You can have all the paupers yer choose to,"?Says she, jest as sharp as a knife;?"But if they_ go ter church _I refuse to!"?"Good-by!" says the minister's wife.
And then Mrs. Jackson got stuffy?At her not comin' sooner ter call,?And old Miss Macgregor is huffy?'Cause she went up ter Jackson's at all.?Each one of the crowd hates the other,?The church has been full of their strife;?But now they're all hatin' another,?And that one's the minister's wife.
But still, all their cackle unheedin',?She goes, in her ladylike way,?A-givin' the poor what they're needing?And helpin' the church every day:?Our numbers each Sunday is swelling?And real, true religion is rife,?And sometimes I feel like a-yellin',?"Three cheers fer the minister's wife!"

[Illustration: "'Well, now, I vum! I know, by gum! I'm right because I be!'"]
THE VILLAGE ORACLE

"I am Sir Oracle, and when I ope my lips let no dog bark!"

Old Dan'l Hanks he says this town?Is jest the best on earth;?He says there ain't one, up nor down,?That's got one half her worth;?He says there ain't no other state?That's good as ourn, nor near;?And all the folks that's good and great?Is settled right 'round here.
Says I "D'jer ever travel, Dan?"?"You bet I ain't!" says he;?"I tell you what! the place I've got?Is good enough fer me!"
He says the other party's fools,?'Cause they don't vote his way;?He says the "feeble-minded schools"?Is where they ought ter stay;?If he was law their mouths he'd shut,?Or blow 'em all ter smash;?He says their platform's nawthin' but?A great big mess of trash.
Says I, "D'jer ever read it, Dan?"?"You bet I ain't!" says he;?"And when I do; well, I tell you,?I'll let you know, by gee!"
He says that all religion's wrong?'Cept jest what he believes;?He says them ministers belong?In jail, the same as thieves;?He says they take the blessed Word?And tear it all ter shreds;?He says their preachin's jest absurd;?They're simply leatherheads.
Says I, "D'jer ever hear 'em, Dan?"?"You bet I ain't!" says he;?"I'd never go ter hear 'em; no;?They make me sick ter see!"
Some fellers reckon, more or less,?Before they speak their mind,?And sometimes calkerlate or guess,--?But them ain't Dan'l's kind.?The Lord knows all things, great or small,?With doubt he's never vexed;?He, in his wisdom, knows it all,--?But Dan'l Hanks comes next.
Says I, "How d' yer know you're right?"?"How do I know?" says he;?"Well, now, I vum! I