Now Jim, the young heaven-built mechanic, in the dusk of the evening
before,
Had well-nigh unjointed the stovepipe, to make it come down on the floor;
And the squire bringing smartly his foot down, as a clincher to what he had
said,
A joint of the pipe fell upon him, and larruped him square on the head.
The soot flew in clouds all about him, and blotted with black all the place
And the squire and the other four fathers were peppered with black in the
face.
The school, ever sharp for amusement, laid down all their cumbersome books
And, spite of the teacher's endeavors, laughed loud at their visitors'
looks.
And the squire, as he stalked to the doorway, swore oaths of a violet hue;
And the four district fathers, who followed, seemed to say: "Them's my
sentiments tew."
_Will Carleton._