XIII.

We've got to labor an' strain an' snort Along thet road thet He's planned an' made; Don't matter a mite He's cut His line Tew run over a 'tarnal, tough up-grade; An' if some poor sinner ain't built tew hold Es big a head of steam es the next, An' keeps slippin' an' slidin' 'way down hill, Why, He don't make out that He's awful vex'd.