Yentlemen, I don’t vant to pay a fine,— I skal say, ‘I can’t sing, I don’t spik Janky, for why am I here?’ I yust wish my girl Christine bane here. She bane one smart girl, she bane go Pleasant Walley College. She can make piana yump up and down. She spik peace about north and south big fight, and dis woman Barbra Fritch. Val, I vill say some vords like her:

    Dis army you see come down the street like hall and she bane stick flag out window and jell for fellows up in pine woods. Down the street came Yenneral Yack. He was ridin’ straight in the center of the horse’s back,
    He looked to the left and then to the right, And pulled out his snuce box wid all his might.
    And spit in the air and yelled to his men, Who touches a hair on yon gray head, Dies lak a puppy dog, skip along, he said.’

As Oley finished his recitation, he was cheered to the roof, and the “deacon’s seat” was once more vacant.
    The night was just beginning, so the next man in alphabetical order was a man whose age might be estimated as about fifty. His height might have been six feet, one inch on one side and probably five feet, nine and one half inches on the other side. One leg was somewhat shorter than the other. He had a long, cadaverous face. His left eye was missing and a heavy eyebrow covered the other eye, which was dark and piercing. There was a deep scar across his right cheek, which shone red in the lamp light. There was another angry looking scar on his neck just to one side of his heavy beard. His nose was used as a barometer for windy jokes passed by members of the crew, and as the big German ox driver said, “they built his nose first, then put the body on afterwards.” The cookee claimed that he told time by his nose because it was always running. A luxuriant growth of red hair, beginning from his low forehead, stretched back and down far on his neck. When the hair on his face was separated, one visualized a large mouth set far back. His voice was resonant with a timbre belying its producer as he spoke :