FYTTE SECOND.

In a trance of sickening anguish,

Cold and stiff, and sore and damp,

For two days did Bryant linger

By the dreary Swindle Swamp;

Always peering at the water,

Always waiting for the hour

When those monstrous jaws should open

As he saw them ope before.

Still in vain;— the alligators

Scrambled through the marshy brake,

And the vampire leeches gaily

Sucked the garfish in the lake.

But the Snapping Turtle never

Rose for food or rose for rest,

Since he lodged the steel deposit

In the bottom of his chest.

Only always from the bottom

Sounds of frequent coughing rolled,

Just as if the huge Cawana

Had a most confounded cold.

On the banks lay Cullen Bryant,

As the second moon arose,

Gouging on the sloping greensward

Some imaginary foes;

When the swamp began to tremble,

And the canes to rustle fast,

As though some stupendous body

Through their roots were crushing past.

And the waters boiled and bubbled,

And, in groups of twos and threes,

Several alligators bounded,

Smart as squirrels, up the trees.

Then a hideous head was lifted,

With such huge distended jaws,

That they might have held Goliath

Quite as well as Rufus Dawes.

Paws of elephantine thickness

Dragged its body from the bay,

And it glared at Cullen Bryant

In a most unpleasant way.

Then it writhed as if in torture,

And it staggered to and fro;

And its very shell was shaken

In the anguish of its throe:

And its cough grew loud and louder,

And its sob more husky thick!

For, indeed, it was apparent

That the beast was very sick.

Till, at last, a spasmy vomit

Shook its carcass through and through,

And as if from out a cannon,

All in armour Slingsby flew.

Bent and bloody was the bowie

Which he held within his grasp;

And he seemed so much exhausted

That he scarce had strength to gasp —

“Gouge him, Bryant! darn ye, gouge him!

Gouge him while he's on the shore!”

Bryant's thumbs were straightway buried

Where no thumbs had pierced before.

Right from out their bony sockets

Did he scoop the monstrous balls;

And, with one convulsive shudder,

Dead the Snapping Turtle falls!

“Post the tin, sagacious Tyler!”

But the old experienced file,

Leering first at Clay and Webster,

Answered, with a quiet smile —

“Since you dragged the‘ tarnal crittur

From the bottom of the ponds,

Here's the hundred dollars due you,

All in Pennsylvanian Bonds!”