Then, with some perturbation,
By way of salutation,
Says I, "How are you, Dobbs!"

He grum and silent beckoned,
And I, in half a second,
Scarce knowing what I did,
Took the stern seat, Dobbs throwing
Himself 'midships, and rowing,
Swift through the stream we slid;
He pulled awhile, then stopping,
And both oars slowly dropping,
His pipe aside he laid,
Drew a long breath, and taking
An attitude, and shaking
His fist towards shore, thus said:--

"Of all sharp cuts the keenest,
Of all mean turns the meanest,
Vilest of all vile jobs,
Worse than the Cow-Boy pillagers,
Are these Dobbs' Ferry villagers
A going back on Dobbs!
'Twould not be more anom'lous
If Rome went back on Rom'lus
(Old rum-un like myself),
Or Hail Columbia, played out
By Southern Dixie, laid out
Columbus on the shelf!