XXXVII.

The mustang wus shod, an' the lightnin' bit At his iron shoes each step he run, Then plung'd in the yearth--we rode in flame, Fur the flashes roll'd inter only one, Same es the bellers made one big roar; Yet thro' the whirl of din an' flame I sung an' shouted, an' call'd the steer I sidl'd agin by his own front name,