Slattin' in the roarin' gale,

So, to save you, I worked for'ard,

Got the nigh hoss by the tail.

Miles on miles we tore on blindly,

Had to let the critters roam,

Till, at last, they turned their noses

To the north, and towards their home.

We went charging down a valley,

Stopped in something soft and deep;

Wagon box and you and me, dear,

Landed in a mixed-up heap.

Both the hosses' legs was buried

And I knew that that was proof

We had 'lighted on the top of

Old Jim Davis's dug-out roof.

12  

Now, old Jim was sleeping soundly

Close beside his faithful wife;

Peace had smoothed his savage wrinkles,

All his dreams were free from strife.

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