OLD HUNDRED.Recitation.(Dedicated to Miss Nellie Bean, Elocutionist, and recited by her at Meredith, N. H., in 1889.)
What! Never heard tell of Old Hundred?
My, whar' hev you been all your days?
Thought everyone knew of Old Hundred
And would give him a word of praise!
Why, he's one of the old coach-horses
That ply 'tween the "Harbor" and Ossipee,
A faithful old beast, too, as ever you'd wish to see.
'Twas in the year eighteen and seventy-six
That a mighty tough blizzard came over,
And lucky it was for everything
That was in and under cover.
The coach started off on wheels that morn'
(For there wa'nt no sign then of snow)
But along towards arternoon
It commenced to drift and blow.
Twan't long before it kivered the roadway,
And soon it got high as the wall,
And the trees were heavily-laden.
Alike the short and the tall.
I says to myself as I was sitting here:
"I guess I know what I'd better do:"
"Go get a neighbor and horse and go
Meet the coach and help her through."
So, I went out into the barn
And up to Old Hundred's stall—
Well sir, you could have knocked
Me down with a feather for,
There stood there no horse at all!
There wa'nt no sign as I could see
Of his having gone down through the floor,
And so it must have been that
He went out through the door.
But no one saw him go,
There was the mystery,
And the question now arose,
Where in the world is he?
Well, we took another horse
And an extra harness along
(In case, with the hard pulling,
Part of theirs might go wrong),
And then we started off, neighbor Brown and I.
Well, I guess we tipped out twenty times
Afore we came to "Squam,"
But men don't mind a "tipple" much
And the excitement kept us warm.
Putty soon we sighted the coach,
And a time she was having, too,
Tell you what, 'twas about all
She could do to pull through!
My, whar' hev you been all your days?
Thought everyone knew of Old Hundred
And would give him a word of praise!
Why, he's one of the old coach-horses
That ply 'tween the "Harbor" and Ossipee,
A faithful old beast, too, as ever you'd wish to see.
'Twas in the year eighteen and seventy-six
That a mighty tough blizzard came over,
And lucky it was for everything
That was in and under cover.
The coach started off on wheels that morn'
(For there wa'nt no sign then of snow)
But along towards arternoon
It commenced to drift and blow.
Twan't long before it kivered the roadway,
And soon it got high as the wall,
And the trees were heavily-laden.
Alike the short and the tall.
I says to myself as I was sitting here:
"I guess I know what I'd better do:"
"Go get a neighbor and horse and go
Meet the coach and help her through."
So, I went out into the barn
And up to Old Hundred's stall—
Well sir, you could have knocked
Me down with a feather for,
There stood there no horse at all!
There wa'nt no sign as I could see
Of his having gone down through the floor,
And so it must have been that
He went out through the door.
But no one saw him go,
There was the mystery,
And the question now arose,
Where in the world is he?
Well, we took another horse
And an extra harness along
(In case, with the hard pulling,
Part of theirs might go wrong),
And then we started off, neighbor Brown and I.
Well, I guess we tipped out twenty times
Afore we came to "Squam,"
But men don't mind a "tipple" much
And the excitement kept us warm.
Putty soon we sighted the coach,
And a time she was having, too,
Tell you what, 'twas about all
She could do to pull through!
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