With the letters carefully tucked inside.
Oh, we’re getting under cover, for the “sport” is
--Pockets bulge with ammunition, and he’s
All his cartridges are loaded and his trigger’s on
And he’ll bore the thing that rustles, from a
He will shoot the foaming rapids, and he’ll shoot
And the farmer in the bushes--why, he’ll fairly
For the gunner is in earnest, he is coming down
--Shoot you first and then inquire if he hurt
For the average city feller he has big game on
And imagines in October there is nothing else in
Therefore some absorbed old farmer cutting corn
Gets most mightily astonished with a bullet in
So, O neighbor, scoot for cover or get out your
--Johnnie’s got his little rifle and is swooping
Oh, we’re learning, yes, we’re learning, and I’ll
If you really mean to bore us you must bring a
For the farmers have decided they will take no
And progressive country merchants carry armor-
--Carry shirts of chain-plate metal, lines of coats
And the helmets they are selling beat a Knight
So I reckon that the farmers can proceed to get
Yes, and chuckle while the bullet raps their
And the hissing double-B shot as they criss-cross
Will excite no more attention than the patter of
And the calf will fly a signal and the Jersey
And the horse a painted banner, reading “Hoss-,
And every fowl who wanders from the safety of
Will be taught to cackle shrilly, u Please don’t
Now with all these due precautions we are ready
We’ll endure the harmless tumult of the rifles’
For we’re glad to have you with us--shoot the
We will back our brand-new armor for to save
O you feller in the city, those ’ere woods is full
We’ve got on our iron trousers--so come up
When they raced there in October for per-
And the weather was so juicy that the boys
As to which would drag the better, suh, a sulky
And the field went off a-skatin’, half the pelters
There was’Liza, Old Keturah Ann, and Dough-
Their pedigrees was barnyard, but we didn’t
So hooray! So hooroo! Oh, ye ought to see
They was racers, suh, from ’way back--but no
With an action like a windmill, but the critter
On the high-wheel, razoo-races of the good old
Oh, you oughter seen the send-offs, and you
For the stretch was chock-a-blocko when they
And the starter he would whang-o on a dented