with unanimous burst and tremendous force of lungs:--

"Did you ever, ever, ever, in your life ride a rail?
Such a deal of pleasure's in it, that you never can refuse!
You are mounted on strong shoulders, that'll never, never fail,
Though you pray'd with tongue of sinner, just to plant you
where they choose.
Though the brier patch is nigh you, looking up with thorny faces,
They never wait to see how you like the situation,
But down you go a rolling, through the penetrating places,
Nor scramble out until you give the cry of approbation.
Oh! pleasant is the riding, highly-seated on the rail,
And worthy of the wooden horse, the rascal that we ride;
Let us see the mighty shoulders that will never, never fail.
To lift him high, and plant him, on the crooked rail astride.
The seven-sided pine rail, the pleasant bed of briar,
The little touch of hickory law, with a dipping in the mire.

"Did you ever, ever, ever," &c.,

from the troupe in full blast!

The lawyer Pippin suddenly stood beside the despairing pedler, as this
ominous ditty was poured upon the night-winds.

"Do you hear that song, Bunce?" he asked. "How do you like the music?"

The pedler looked in his face with a mixed expression of grief, anger,
and stupidity, but he said nothing.