|
Ye good folks of Chetopa,
Give ear unto my song, Which if not wise or witty, Will not be very long. Our city boasts a preacher Who is in doctrines sound An Anak in proportions,___ His weight two hundred pound. He hates all kinds of folly, But tries to love the sinner___ Besides, he loves most dearly A chicken for his dinner. One morn he went forth slily To his coop with foul intent, Where sat the hen, not dreaming What the smiling parson meant. With silent hands he seized her, When, lo ! out came her tail, And the chicken slipped out quickly Thru a hole in a broken rail. Away went that old chicken In double-quick 'round the church; Not much was the parson going To be left thus in the lurch. As his Dutch rose higher and higher He pulled his stove-pipe down, And began a race as thrilling As Gilpin's, of world renown. Still faster ran the chicken, On its way from street to street, Behind on came the parson With faster flying feet. As onward ran the chicken And behind the parson flew, Now scores of men and women Came out the scene to view. He lost his shining "beaver"___ For this he cared not a fig; But all his patience left him, When flying went his wig. But onward went pursuer, And onward went pursued;___ Not thus would run a preacher After other kind of food. Long while the race seemed equal___ At last the scale was turned___ And the parson seized the chicken, For which his hands had burned. Alas for that old chicken. She shortly had to die; The following day for dinner We had a chicken-pie. Now, chickens, all take warning, Keep out of a preacher's way, Or with your bones all meatless You will ever rue the day. A word to you, dear parsons, If you would never fail To have a hen for dinner, Don't catch her by the tall. __J. M. Cavaness.
|
Jayhawker Juleps
J. M. Cavaness
(Chanute: Tribune Pub. Co. 1913)
Pages 45-46
Visit the Home Page for Kansas