They're simply leatherheads.

Says I, "D'jer ever hear 'em, Dan?"
"You bet I ain't!" says he;
"I'd never go ter _hear_ 'em; no;
They make me sick ter _see!_"

Some fellers reckon, more or less,
Before they speak their mind,
And sometimes calkerlate or guess,--
But them ain't Dan'l's kind.
The Lord knows all things, great or small,
With doubt he's never vexed;
He, in his wisdom, knows it all,--
But Dan'l Hanks comes next.

Says I, "How d' yer know you're right?"
"How do I _know_?" says he;
"Well, now, I vum! I know, by gum!
I'm right because I _be_!"

* * * * *

THE TIN PEDDLER

Jason White has come ter town
Drivin' his tin peddler's cart,
Pans a-bangin' up an' down
Like they'd tear theirselves apart;
Kittles rattlin' underneath,