(“The Parson Takes A Drive.”)

First a shiver, and then a thrill,

Then something decidedly like a spill,--

And the parson was sitting upon a rock,

At half-past nine by the meet'n'-house-clock,--

Just the hour of the Earthquake-shock!=

--What do you think the parson found,

When he got up and stared around?

The poor old chaise in a heap or mound,

As if it had been to the mill and ground!

You see, of course, if you're not a dunce,

How it went to pieces all at once,--

All at once, and nothing first,--

Just as bubbles do when they burst.

End of the wonderful one-hoss shay.

Logic is logic. That's all I say.