Wayside Weeds

Little White Crow gave a terrible shout, The tooth in a trice from the bag he whipped out, Dropped it into his musket, and yelling still louder, He rammed it well home on the top of the powder. But here come the foe! From rocks, bushes and trees They start like a swarm of exasperate bees; A capital simile that is in any case, To describe an assault of Oneidas or Senecas: And one, as it happens, remarkably apt in This particular case, for the Iroquois Captain Was a chief called Big Hornet,--a beggar to fight, Who measured six feet and some inches in height. 'Twas he gave the signal to make the attack, 'Twas he led the rush of the bloodthirsty pack, And 'twas he, as he charged in the front of the foe, Attracted the notice of Little White Crow. Little White Crow brought his gun to his shoulder, And rested the barrel on top of a boulder, Singled out the Big Hornet's conspicuous figure, Drew a bead on his forehead,--and then pulled the trigger.

"Click" went the flint lock, and the musket went "bang," The f