"
All seated now, with solemn air,
And with a placid smile,
Such words of truth the parson spoke
As might their fears beguile.
Lo! they alight, the gate in sight--
"What's that?" the matron said.
Says Peter, "It's the spotted bull,
And I believe he's dead."
Thus all, amazed, a moment gazed,
And quickly turn about;
In doleful plight, the deacon sighs,
"Murder will surely out!
"Where shall I go? What shall I do?
I'm caught--I am a sinner!
My wife, good soul--my wife has brought
The parson home to dinner!"
And with a little spice of wit,
To which he was inclined,
Though none to spare the deacon had,
He thus relieved his mind:
"I've often heard the preacher say
That good may come of evil;
Still every hour, with all our might,
We must resist the devil.
"If horn and hoof be any proof,
And if the foot be riven,
Surely I am the very man
That with the beast has striven!"
Now hurried steps without are heard,
And earnest voices blend;
"I'm in a vice," the deacon groans--
"When will this torture end?"
Young Peter, being first within,
For he had run ahead,
Loudly exclaims, "Another bull
Lies in the parlor, dead!"
They enter all, with hands upraised
And faces filled with wonder--
There stood confessed the deacon's case,
And all were struck with thunder.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25