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James Russell Lowell - A Fable
Work rating: Low

Two fellers, Isrel named and Joe,
One Sundy mornin` `greed to go
Agunnin` soon `z the bells wuz done
And meetin` finally begun,
So`st no one wouldn`t be about
Ther Sabbath-breakin` to spy out.

Joe didn`t want to go a mite;
He felt ez though `twarn`t skeercely right,
But, when his doubts he went to speak on,
Isrel he up and called him Deacon,
An` kep` apokin` fun like sin
An` then arubbin` on it in,
Till Joe, less skeered o` doin` wrong
Than bein` laughed at, went along.

Past noontime they went trampin` round
An` nary thing to pop at found,
Till, fairly tired o` their spree,
They leaned their guns agin a tree,
An` jest ez they wuz settin` down
To take their noonin`, Joe looked roun`
And see (acrost lots in a pond
That warn`t mor`n twenty rod beyond)
A goose that on the water sot
Ez ef awaitin` to be shot.

Isrel he ups and grabs his gun;
Sez he, `By ginger, here`s some fun!`
`Don`t fire,` sez Joe, `it ain`t no use,
Thet`s Deacon Peleg`s tame wil`-goose:`
Sez Isrel, `I don`t care a cent.
I`ve sighted an` I`ll let her went;`
_Bang!_ went queen`s-arm, ole gander flopped
His wings a spell, an` quorked, an` dropped.

Sez Joe, `I wouldn`t ha` been hired
At that poor critter to ha` fired,
But since it`s clean gin up the ghost,
We`ll hev the tallest kind o` roast;
I guess our waistbands`ll be tight
`Fore it comes ten o`clock ternight.`

`I won`t agree to no such bender,`
Sez Isrel; `keep it tell it`s tender;
`Tain`t wuth a snap afore it`s ripe.`
Sez Joe, `I`d jest ez lives eat tripe;
You _air_ a buster ter suppose
I`d eat what makes me hol` my nose!`

So they disputed to an` fro
Till cunnin` Isrel sez to Joe,
`Don`t le`s stay here an` play the fool,
Le`s wait till both on us git cool,
Jest for a day or two le`s hide it,
An` then toss up an` so decide it.`
`Agreed!` sez Joe, an` so they did,
An` the ole goose wuz safely hid.

Now `twuz the hottest kind o` weather,
An` when at last they come together,
It didn`t signify which won,
Fer all the mischief hed been done:
The goose wuz there, but, fer his soul,
Joe wouldn`t ha` tetched it with a pole;
But Isrel kind o` liked the smell on `t
An` made _his_ dinner very well on `t.
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