JACK THE GIANT KILLER.

Tell you a story — an’ it's a fac':—

Wunst wuz a little boy, name wuz Jack,

An’ he had sword an’ buckle an’ strap

Maked of gold, an’ a “‘ visibul cap;”

An’ he killed Gi'nts‘ at et whole cows —

Th’ horns an’ all — an’ pigs an’ sows!

But Jack, his golding sword wuz, oh!

So awful sharp‘ at he could go

An’ cut th’ ole Gi'nts clean in two

Fore‘ ey knowed what he wuz goin’ to do!

An’ one ole Gi'nt, he had four

Heads, and name wuz “Bumblebore” —

An’ he wuz feered o’ Jack —‘ cause he,

Jack, he killed six — five — ten — three,

An’ all o’ th’ uther ole Gi'nts but him:

An’ thay wuz a place Jack haf to swim

‘ Fore he could git t’ ole “Bumblebore” —

Nen thay was “griffuns” at the door:

But Jack, he thist plunged in an’ swum

Clean acrost; an’ when he come

To th’ uther side, he thist put on

His “‘ visibul cap,” an’ nen, dog-gone!

You could n't see him at all!— An’ so

He slewed the “griffuns” — boff, you know!

Nen wuz a horn hunged over his head

High on th’ wall, an’ words‘ at read,—

“Whoever kin this trumput blow

Shall cause the Gi'nt' s overth'ow!”

An’ Jack, he thist reached up an’ blowed

The stuffin’ out of it! an’ th'owed

Th’ castul-gates wide open, an’

Nen tuck his gold sword in his han’,

An’ thist marched in t’ ole “Bumblebore,”

An’,‘ fore he knowed, he put‘ bout four

Heads on him — an’ chopped‘ em off, too!—

Wisht‘ at I'd been Jack!— do n't you?