"How will the bulls together look,
And which will prove the stronger?
'Twere sin to wish the time to pass--
'Twould only make it longer."
Such thoughts as these, on Sabbath morn,
Like birds of evil token,
Flew round and round the deacon's mind--
Its holy peace was broken.
Beyond the hills the steeple rose,
Distant a mile or two.
Our deacon's house and barns and bulls
Were well concealed from view.
"Be ready all, to meeting go;
Perhaps I may not come--
A curious fluttering near my heart
Calls me to stay at home."
As thus he spake, his careful wife
Replied with anxious tone,
"I'll stay with you; 'twere dangerous
To leave you all alone."
"No," answered he--"go, every one;
I've had the same before,
And, with a little medicine,
No doubt 'twill soon be o'er.
"Run, Peter, run for Bonny Gray,
Nor tarry till you find him;
I've often heard his own or say
He'd carry all behind him."
The carriage stands before the door;
They enter--one, two, three;
The deacon says, "There's room for more--
Enough for Parson G.
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