The Official Explanation.
Reading edition
One night aside the fire at hum,
Ez I wuz settin’ nappin’,
Deown frum the lower hall there come
The seound uv some one rappin’.
The son uv old Nat Hawthorne he,—
Julian I think his name wuz,—
Uv course, he feound a friend in me,
Not knowin’ what his game wuz.
An’ ez we visited a spell,
Our talk ranged wide an’ wider;
An’ ef we struck dry subjects—well,
We washed ’em deown with cider.
Neow, with that cider coursin’ thru
My system, an’ a-playin’
Upon my tongue, I hardly knew
Just what I wuz a-sayin’.
I kin remember that I spun
A hifalutin’ story,
Abeout the Prince uv Wales, an’ one
Abeout old Queen Victory.
But, sakes alive! I never dreamed
The cuss would get it printed—
(By that old gal I’m much esteemed,
Ez she hez often hinted).
Oh, if I had that critter neow,
You bet your boots I’d larn him
In mighty lively fashion heow
To walk the chalk, gol darn him!
107Meanwhile, between his folks an’ mine
The breach grows wide an’ wider;
An’, by the way, it’s my design
To give up drinkin’ cider.
Hosea Biglow.