THE STORY OF THE TWO BULLS

In former times, my story tells,

There lived one Deacon R.,

And not the worst man in the world,

Nor best was he, by far.

His fields were rich, his acres broad,

And cattle were his pride;

Oxen and sheep, and horses, too,

And what you please, beside.

His brindle cow, the highest prize

Won at the county fair,

For taper limbs and rounded form,

And short and shining hair.

Old Bonny Gray, a noble steed

Of sure, majestic pace,

Before the deacon purchased him,

Was famous at a race.

This story he would sometimes tell,

And at the end would say,

"Alas! such sports are far from right;

But Bonny won the day!"

Still, more than all, the spotted bull

Had filled the deacon's mind;

His back so straight, his breast so broad,

So perfect of his kind.

And when 'twas said that Moses Grimes,

A justice of the peace,

Had got the likeliest bull in town,

The deacon had no ease.

So off he rode to see the squire,

And put this question straight:

"Say, don't you want another bull,

And don't yours want a mate?"

The squire, perceiving at a glance

All that the man was after,

"Just forty pounds will buy my bull,"

Quoth he, with ready laughter.

And when the beast was brought to view,

And carefully surveyed,

Of deepest red, its every point

Of excellence displayed.

"I'll take him at your price," said he—

"Please drive him down to-morrow,

And you shall have the money, sir,

If I the cash can borrow."

So saying, turned he on his steed,

The nimble-footed Bonny;

To-morrow came, and came the bull—

The deacon paid the money.

The sun was hid behind the hills—

The next day would be Sunday;

"You'll put him in the barn," said he,

"And leave him there till Monday."

The deacon was a man of peace,

For so he claimed, albeit

When there was war among the beasts,

He always liked to see it.

"How will the bulls together look,

And which will prove the stronger?

'Twere sin to wish the time to pass—

'Twould only make it longer."

Such thoughts as these, on Sabbath morn,

Like birds of evil token,

Flew round and round the deacon's mind—

Its holy peace was broken.

Beyond the hills the steeple rose,

Distant a mile or two.

Our deacon's house and barns and bulls

Were well concealed from view.

"Be ready all, to meeting go;

Perhaps I may not come—

A curious fluttering near my heart

Calls me to stay at home."

As thus he spake, his careful wife