AMERICAN BALLADS

Have you heard of Philip Slingsby,

Slingsby of the manly chest;

How he slew the Snapping Turtle

In the regions of the West?

Every day the huge Cawana

Lifted up its monstrous jaws;

And it swallowed Langton Bennett,

And digested Rufus Dawes.

Riled, I ween, was Philip Slingsby,

Their untimely deaths to hear;

For one author owed him money,

And the other loved him dear.

“Listen now, sagacious Tyler,

Whom the loafers all obey;

What reward will Congress give me,

If I take this pest away?”

Then sagacious Tyler answered,

“You're the ring-tailed squealer! Less

Than a hundred heavy dollars

Wo n't be offered you, I guess!

“And a lot of wooden nutmegs

In the bargain, too, we'll throw —

Only you just fix the critter.

Wo n't you liquor ere you go?”

Straightway leaped the valiant Slingsby

Into armour of Seville,

With a strong Arkansas toothpick

Screwed in every joint of steel.

“Come thou with me, Cullen Bryant,

Come with me, as squire, I pray;

Be the Homer of the battle

Which I go to wage to-day.”

So they went along careering

With a loud and martial tramp,

Till they neared the Snapping Turtle

In the dreary Swindle Swamp.

But when Slingsby saw the water,

Somewhat pale, I ween, was he.

“If I come not back, dear Bryant,

Tell the tale to Melanie!

“Tell her that I died devoted,

Victim to a noble task!

Ha n't you got a drop of brandy

In the bottom of your flask?”

As he spoke, an alligator

Swam across the sullen creek;

And the two Columbians started,

When they heard the monster shriek;

For a snout of huge dimensions

Rose above the waters high,

And took down the alligator,

As a trout takes down a fly.

“‘ Tarnal death! the Snapping Turtle!”

Thus the squire in terror cried;

But the noble Slingsby straightway

Drew the toothpick from his side.

“Fare thee well!” he cried, and dashing

Through the waters, strongly swam:

Meanwhile, Cullen Bryant, watching,

Breathed a prayer and sucked a dram.

Sudden from the slimy bottom

Was the snout again upreared,

With a snap as loud as thunder,—

And the Slingsby disappeared.

Like a mighty steam-ship foundering,

Down the monstrous vision sank;

And the ripple, slowly rolling,

Plashed and played upon the bank.

Still and stiller grew the water,

Hushed the canes within the brake;

There was but a kind of coughing

At the bottom of the lake.

Bryant wept as loud and deeply

As a father for a son —

“He's a finished‘ coon, is Slingsby,

And the brandy's nearly done!”