Sal An’ Me

Some how nuther, Sal an’ me

Don’t hitch ‘tall well latly.

Sal she’s stubborn eza mule,

An’ – well, I am (es a rule)

An’ we yank an’ pull an’ haul,

Like ez tho’ we weren’t hitched ‘tall.

What’s the matter don’t perten’

Ter know. Sal is up in en’

‘Bout suthin, don’t know what,

‘N  mebbie she don’t like ez not.

Jes a common ‘currence, so,

Guess I’d better let it go.

Kiner starts (riles) a feller some

W’en these scratchin’s rise to hum,

An’ he brussles like a cat

What a dorg cn’t jes (quite) git at;

Then his bristles sorter slack,

An’ he lowers down his back;

An’ his war cloud scurries on

Past the peaceful horizon (horrerzon).

Jan. 27, ‘93

Pub in B. Courier,

June 24, 1894