Let a little speech begin.
Thou think'st the bar draws little;
That the stables are empty yet,
And the growing pride of Hagerstown,
Thou can'st not that forget."

"Thou liest, Nick, my little boy;
For Hager's bells I hear
Like the bells of olden travel,
Forgot upon mine ear.
In a wonderful thing once asked him
Thy dear old daddy is sunk--
I have sot here a year and wondered
Who the devil was Mr. Funk!"

II.

"A year ago I was smoking,
When a strange young fellow came by.
He was taking notes on paper,
And the rum in his'n was _rye_.
Says he: 'I'm a writin' a hist'ry'--
'Twas then I thought he was drunk--
'And I want to see your graveyard,
And the tomb of your founder, Funk!'

"I think if he'd sot there, sonny,
I'd looked at him a week;
But he wanished tow'rd the graveyard,
Before your daddy could speak.