The Way It Wuz
Las’ July—an’, I persume
'Bout as hot
As the ole Gran’-Jury room
Where they sot!—
Fight 'twixt Mike an’ Dock McGriff—
'Pears to me jes’ like as if
I’d a dremp’ the whole blame thing—
Allus ha’nts me roun’ the gizzard
When they’re nightmares on the wing,
An’ a feller’s blood’s jes’ friz!
Seed the row from a to izzard—
'Cause I wuz a-standin’ as clost to 'em
As me an’ you is!
Tell you the way it wuz—
An’ I do n’t want to see,
Like _some_ fellers does,
When they 're goern to be
Any kind o’ fuss—
On’y makes a rumpus wuss
Far to interfere
When their dander’s riz—
But I wuz a-standin’ as clost to 'em
As me an’ you is!
I wuz kind o’ strayin’
Past the blame saloon—
Heerd some fiddler playin’
That ‘ole hee-cup tune!’
Sort o’ stopped, you know,
Far a minit er so,
And wuz jes’ about
Settin’ down, when—_Jeemses-whizz!_
Whole durn winder-sash fell out!
An’ there laid Doc McGriff, and Mike
A-straddlin’ him, all bloody-like,
An’ both a-gittin’ down to biz!—
An’ I wuz a-standin’ as clost to 'em
As me an’ you is!
I wuz the on’y man aroun’—
(Durn old-fogy town!
'Peared more like, to me,
_Sund’y_ 'an _Saturd’y!)_
Dog come 'crost the road
An’ tuck a smell
An’ put right back;
Mishler driv by 'ith a load
O’ cantalo’pes he couldn’t sell—
Too mad, 'y jack!
To even ast
What wuz up, as he went past!
Weather most outrageous hot!—
Fairly hear it sizz
Roun’ Dock an’ Mike—till Dock he shot,
An’ Mike he slacked that grip o’ his
An’ fell, all spraddled out. Dock riz
'Bout half up, a-spittin’ red,
An’ shuck his head—
An’ I wuz a-standin’ as clost to 'em
As me an’ you is!
An’ Dock he says,
A-whisperin’-like,—
'It hain’t no use
A-tryin’!—Mike
He’s jes’ ripped my daylights loose!—
Git that blame-don fiddler to
Let up, an’ come out here—You
Got some burryin’ to do,—
Mike makes _one_, an’ I expects
In ten seconds I’ll make _two_!'
And he drapped back, where he riz,
'Crost Mike’s body, black and blue,
Like a great big letter X!—
An’ I wuz a-standin’ as clost to 'em
As me an’ you is!
