Saint Abe and His Seven Wives: A Tale of Salt Lake City With A Bibliographical Note

There was a time, and no mistake, When thet same ranche down in the brake Was pleasanter a heap to me Than any sight on land or sea. The hosses knew it like their master, Smelt it miles orf, and spank'd the faster! Ay, bent to reach thet very spot, Flew till they halted steaming hot Sharp opposite the door, among The chicks and children old and young; And down I'd jump, and all the go Was 'Fortune, boss!' and 'Welcome, Joe!' And Cissy with her shining face, Tho' she was missus of the place, Stood larfing, hands upon her hips; And when upon her rosy lips I put my mouth and gave her one, She'd cuff me, and enjy the fun! She was a widow young and tight, Her chap had died in a free fight, And here she lived, and round her had Two chicks, three brothers, and her dad, All making money fast as hay, And doing better every day. Waal! guess tho' I was peart and swift, Spooning was never much my gift; But Cissy was a gal so sweet, So fresh, so spicy, and so neat, It put your wits all out o' place, Only to star' into her face. Skin whiter than a new-laid egg, Lips full of juice, and sech a leg! A smell about her, morn and e'en, Like fresh-bleach'd linen on a green; And from her hand when she took mine, The warmth ran up like sherry wine; And if in liquor I made free To pull her larfing on my knee, Why, there she'd sit, and feel so nice, Her heer all scent, her breath all spice! See! women hate, both young and old, A chap that's over shy and cold, And fire of all sorts kitches quick, And Cissy seem'd to feel full slick The same fond feelings, and at last Grew kinder every time I passed; And all her face, from eyes to chin, Said *'Bravo, Joe! You're safe to win!' And tho' we didn't fix, d'ye see, In downright words that it should be, Ciss and her fam'ly understood That she and me would jine for good.