XV.

Them's my idees es I pann'd them out; Don't take no stock in them creeds that say, Thar's a chap with horns thet's took control Of the rollin' stock on thet up-grade way, Thet's free to tote up es ugly a log Es grows in his big bush grim an' black, An' slyly put it across the rails, Tew hist a poor critter clar off the track.