is
dedicated with the 'distinguished consideration' of

THE AUTHOR.

Tom Johnson he lived on the Western border,
Where he went to escape from 'law and order,'
For Tom was a terrible fellow, was he,
He drunk, and he swore, and he fou't[B] like the
Old Harry--and Tom he had a wife:
Fit partner she was of his backwoods life.

Tom lived on the border for divers years,
Where he fou't the red-skins, and he fou't the bears
And there wasn't a thing that could bite or scratch
For which Tom Johnson wasn't a match,
Excepting his wife, and she was the better
Half by all odds--he'd often get her
In a tight place, and give her a strapping.
But somehow or other 'twould always happen,
In every tussle and every bout,
In every 'scrimmage' and every rout,
She'd come out ahead of the cross-grained old wizzard,
And by hook or crook manage to 'give him a blizzard.'
Sometimes from a brawl of which Tom was the hero,
Returning at midnight, the weather at zero,
His wife snug in bed, and the door safely barred,
Long time would elapse ere his shouts could be heard;
And sometimes she'd catch him dead drunk or asleep,
When he'd find himself suddenly 'all of a heap,'
And open his eyes on his bellicose bride,
Hot mush in his mouth and his under-pins tied.
So she managed to keep just inside of the law,
While he ever would find himself '_hors du combat_.'

As Johnson was one day exploring the wood,
To replenish the meat-tub--then empty--with food,
While a tree-top near by he was leisurely viewin''
He spied the short ears and sharp eyes of old Bruin,
Peering out 'mid the branches--a sight worth a dollar
When the rifle is charged and the stomach is hollow;
So he drew a bead on him, and sent him a missile,
Which Brain perceived, by an ominous whistle,
Was very near taking him plump in the eye,
But he dodged just in time, and the bullet went by.

Now bears are pugnacious--as much so as wives,
And whenever assaulted will fight for their lives;
So seeing that Tom's ammunition was spent,
He determined at once on a hasty descent;
For knowing that he or Tom Johnson would eat,
The question arose which should furnish the meat;
For although the bullet had wrought some confusion,
A moment's reflection produced the conclusion,
That he at the foot of the tree with the gun,
Minus powder and bullet, must needs be the one;
So he slid down the tree, with