Have you heard of Philip Slingsby, Slingsby of the manly chest; How he slew the Snapping Turtle In the regions of the West?
Every day the huge Cawana Lifted up its monstrous jaws; And it swallowed Langton Bennett, And digested Rufus Dawes.
Riled, I ween, was Philip Slingsby, Their untimely deaths to hear; For one author owed him money, And the other loved him dear.
“Listen now, sagacious Tyler, Whom the loafers all obey; What reward will Congress give me, If I take this pest away?”
Then sagacious Tyler answered, “You're the ring-tailed squealer! Less Than a hundred heavy dollars Wo n't be offered you, I guess!
“And a lot of wooden nutmegs In the bargain, too, we'll throw — Only you just fix the critter. Wo n't you liquor ere you go?”
Straightway leaped the valiant Slingsby Into armour of Seville, With a strong Arkansas toothpick Screwed in every joint of steel.
“Come thou with me, Cullen Bryant, Come with me, as squire, I pray; Be the Homer of the battle Which I go to wage to-day.”
So they went along careering With a loud and martial tramp, Till they neared the Snapping Turtle In the dreary Swindle Swamp.
But when Slingsby saw the water, Somewhat pale, I ween, was he. “If I come not back, dear Bryant, Tell the tale to Melanie!
“Tell her that I died devoted, Victim to a noble task! Ha n't you got a drop of brandy In the bottom of your flask?”
As he spoke, an alligator Swam across the sullen creek; And the two Columbians started, When they heard the monster shriek;
For a snout of huge dimensions Rose above the waters high, And took down the alligator, As a trout takes down a fly.
“‘ Tarnal death! the Snapping Turtle!” Thus the squire in terror cried; But the noble Slingsby straightway Drew the toothpick from his side.
“Fare thee well!” he cried, and dashing Through the waters, strongly swam: Meanwhile, Cullen Bryant, watching, Breathed a prayer and sucked a dram.
Sudden from the slimy bottom Was the snout again upreared, With a snap as loud as thunder,— And the Slingsby disappeared.
Like a mighty steam-ship foundering, Down the monstrous vision sank; And the ripple, slowly rolling, Plashed and played upon the bank.
Still and stiller grew the water, Hushed the canes within the brake; There was but a kind of coughing At the bottom of the lake.
Bryant wept as loud and deeply As a father for a son — “He's a finished‘ coon, is Slingsby, And the brandy's nearly done!”
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