The Way It Wuz.

Las' July—an', I persume 'Bout as hot As the ole Gran'-Jury room Where they sot!— Fight 'twixt Mike an' Dock McGriff— 'Pears to me jes' like as if I'd a dremp' the whole blame thing— Allus ha'nts me roun' the gizzard When they're nightmares on the wing, An' a feller's blood's jes' friz! Seed the row from a to izzard— 'Cause I wuz a-standin' as clost to 'em As me an' you is! Tell you the way it wuz— An' I do n't want to see, Like some fellers does, When they 're goern to be Any kind o' fuss— On'y makes a rumpus wuss Far to interfere When their dander's riz— But I wuz a-standin' as clost to 'em As me an' you is! I wuz kind o' strayin' Past the blame saloon— Heerd some fiddler playin' That "ole hee-cup tune!" Sort o' stopped, you know, Far a minit er so, And wuz jes' about Settin' down, when—Jeemses-whizz! Whole durn winder-sash fell out! An' there laid Doc McGriff, and Mike A-straddlin' him, all bloody-like, An' both a-gittin' down to biz!— An' I wuz a-standin' as clost to 'em As me an' you is! I wuz the on'y man aroun'— (Durn old-fogy town! 'Peared more like, to me, Sund'y 'an Saturd'y!) Dog come 'crost the road An' tuck a smell An' put right back; Mishler driv by 'ith a load O' cantalo'pes he couldn't sell— Too mad, 'y jack! To even ast What wuz up, as he went past! Weather most outrageous hot!— Fairly hear it sizz Roun' Dock an' Mike—till Dock he shot, An' Mike he slacked that grip o' his An' fell, all spraddled out. Dock riz 'Bout half up, a-spittin' red, An' shuck his head— An' I wuz a-standin' as clost to 'em As me an' you is! An' Dock he says, A-whisperin'-like,— "It hain't no use A-tryin'!—Mike He's jes' ripped my daylights loose!— Git that blame-don fiddler to Let up, an' come out here—You Got some burryin' to do,— Mike makes one, an' I expects In ten seconds I'll make two!" And he drapped back, where he riz, 'Crost Mike's body, black and blue, Like a great big letter X!— An' I wuz a-standin' as clost to 'em As me an' you is!