THAT ONE-HOSS SHAY. 359 



Above or below, or within or without, 



And that's the reason, beyond a doubt, 



A chaise breaks down, but doesn't wear out. 



But the deacon swore (as deacons do, 



With an "I dew vum," or an " I tell yeou"), 



He would build one shay to beat the taown, 



'N' the keounty 'n' all the kentry raoun' ; 



It should be so built that it couldn' break daown. 



"Fur," said the deacon, *"t's mighty plain 



That the weakes' place mus' stan' the strain ; 



'N' the way to fix it, wy, I maintain, 



Is only jest 

 T' make that place uz strong uz the rest." 

 So the deacon inquired of the village folk 

 Where he could find the strongest oak. 

 That couldn't be split, nor bent, nor broke — 

 That was for spokes, and floor, and sills ; 

 He sent for lance-wood to make the thills ; 

 The cross-bars were ash, from the straightest trees ; 

 The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese 

 But lasts like iron for things like these ; 

 The hubs of logs from the " settler's ellum," 

 Last of its timber, they couldn't sell 'em, 

 Never an axe had seen their chips. 

 And the wedges flew from between their lips, 

 Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips ; 

 Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw, 

 Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin, too, 

 Steel of the finest, bright and blue ; 

 Thoroughbrace, bison-skin, thick and wide ; 

 Boot, top-dasher, from tough old hide 

 Found in the pit when the tanner died. 

 That was the way he " put her through." 

 " There ! " said the deacon, " naow she'll dew." 

 Do ! I tell you, I rather guess 

 She was a wonder, and nothing less ! 

 Colts grew horses, beards turned gray, 

 Deacon and deaconess, dropped away, 

 Children and grandchildren, where were they? 

 But there stood the stout old one-hoss shay, 

 As fresh as on Lisbon earthquake day ! 

 Eighteen hundred, it came and found 

 The deacon's masterpiece strong and sound. 

 Eighteen hundred increased by ten, 

 "Hahnsum kerridge " they call it then; 

 Eighteen hundred and twenty came, 

 Running as usual, much the same ; 

 Thirty and forty at last arrive, 

 And then come fifty and fifty-five. 



