"I come into town with some turnips,
And my little Gabe come along--
No four-year-old in the county
Could beat him for pretty and strong;
Peart, and chipper, and sassy,
Always ready to swear and fight,
And I'd larnt him to chaw terbacker,
Jest to keep his milk teeth white.
"The snow come down like a blanket
As I passed by Taggart's store;
I went in for a jug of molasses,
And left the team at the door.
They scared at something and started--
I heard one little squall,
And hell-to-split over the prairie
Went team, Little-Breeches and all.
"Hell-to-split over the prairie!
I was almost froze with skeer;
But we rousted up some torches,
And sarched for 'em far and near.
At last we struck hosses and wagon,
Snowed under a soft white mound:
Upsot, dead beat--but of little Gabe
No hide nor hair was found.
"And here all hopes soured on me
Of my fellow-critters' aid--
I jest flopped down on my marrow bones,
Crotch-deep in the snow, and prayed.
By this the torches was played out,
And me and Isrul Parr
Went off for some wood to a sheep-fold,
That he said was somewhar thar.
"We found it at last, and a little shed
Where they shut up the lambs at night;
We looked in, and seen them huddled thar,
So warm, and sleepy, and white.
"And thar sot Little-Breeches, and chirped
As peart as ever you see:
'I want a chaw of terbacker,
And that's what's the matter of me.'"
[Illustration: "I WANT A CHAW OF TERBACKER."]