And shake of hands go round,
And each inquires the other's health,
All as in duty bound.

"How is your spouse?" the parson said;
"I see he's not at meeting."
"This morning, sir," the wife replied,
"His heart was strangely beating.

"I hope you'll call and see him soon"
"That I shall gladly do."
"Ride down with us--the carriage waits;
There's room enough for you."

All seated now, with solemn air,
And with a placid smile,
Such words of truth the parson spoke
As might their fears beguile.

Lo! they alight, the gate in sight--
"What's that?" the matron said.
Says Peter, "It's the spotted bull,
And I believe he's dead."

Thus all, amazed, a moment gazed,
And quickly turn about;
In doleful plight, the deacon sighs,
"Murder will surely out!

"Where shall I go? What shall I do?