ARBOR DA V MAX UAL. 
THE WONDERFUL “ ONE-HOSS SHAY.” 
H AVE you heard of the wonderful one hoss shay, 
That was built in such a logical way—? 
It ran a hundred years to a day. 
Now, in building of chaises, I tell you what, 
There is always, somewhere , a weakest spot — 
In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or thill, 
In panel or cross-bar, or floor, or sill, 
In screw, bolt, thorough-brace — lurking still, 
Find it somewhere you must and will — 
Above or below, or within or without — 
And that’s the reason, beyond a doubt, 
A chaise breaks down, but does’nt 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’t break daou»’f 
“Fur,” said the Deacon, “ ’tis mighty plain, 
That the weakes’ place must stan’ the strain ; 
“ N’ the way t’ fix it, uz I maintain, 
Is only jest 
1 T’ make that place uz strong uz the rest.” 
So the Deacon inquired of the village folk 
Where he could find the strongest pak, 
That couldn’t be split, nor bent, nor broke — 
That was for spokes, and floor, and sills, 
He sent for lancewood, to make the thills; 
The cross-bars were ash, from the straighest trees; 
The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese, 
But lasts like iron for things like these ; 
The hubs from logs from the “ setler’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 ; 
Thorough-brace bison-skin, thick and wide ; 
Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide, 
Found in the pit where the tanner died. 
That was the way he “ put her through.” 
“There ! ” said the Deacon, “ naow she’ll dew! ” 
Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
