much scratching and clawing,
Designing to give poor Tom's carcass a gnawing.

But Thomas, intent upon saving his life,
And calling to mind a sharp trick of his wife,
As Bruin came down, his legs clasping the tree,
Caught a paw in each hand and held tight as could be:
He put on a grip unto Bruin quite new,
Like a vice when the blacksmith is turning the screw.

But now what to do there arose a great doubt,
For Bruin and Johnson had both just found out
What neither had thought of until 'twas too late,
That each was exposed to a merciless fate
At the hands, or the teeth, or the claws of the other,
At which _neither_ could his astonishment smother,
And neither knew what it was safest to do;
'Twas _hard_ to hold on, but 'twas worse to let go!

Now Johnson still being not far from his house,
Bethought him in time of his excellent spouse,
So he hooted and hallooed and made such a noise
She distinguished at last his affectionate voice,
Calling loudly for help as it rose on the breeze,
Like the panther's wild scream in the tops of the trees:
'O Julee, dear Julee! come, help me this time,
And I never again--will--(oh! bother the rhyme,)
Will bite you, or scratch you, or whip you, not I,
But love and protect you till you or I die.'

Now good Mistress Johnson, dear soul, when she heard
The piteous cries of her penitent lord,
Got herself to the wood with broom-stick in hand.
'I am, most respectfully, yours to command,'
Said the wife, as she came and found Tom and the bear
Both hugging a tree with the grip of despair.
'O Julee, _dear_ Julee! How can you?--now come,
Do help me, or quickly-confound it!--our home
Won't have any master!--dear Julee, consider--
The children no daddy, and you a lone widow!'
An _un_lucky hint for poor Tom, by the by,
'For worse things _might_ happen!' thought she with a sigh.

But good mistress Johnson, though love was but scant,
Had a heart never hewn from the worst adamant;
It softened apace, so with broom-stick in air
And ire in her eye she advanced on the bear,
Who seeing the enemy thus reenforced
Tried to get his fore-paws from Tom's clutches divorced.

O woman, poor woman! dear woman! sweet thing!
O light of earth's darkness! O treasure supernal!
Thy fond heart, though crushed, win unceasingly cling
To a loved one, though fallen, degraded, infernal!

Thrice Bruin's tough hide from the b