Milgenwater's Hunting. Part II, The Song of Milgenwater. begins page 23.



In the wilderness, behind there,
Far behind Marcosset's wigwam,
Far away from Watta-puddel,
Lay defunct Peek-week, the squirrel --
Lay without a breath or motion,
Hearing not the breeze's sighing,
Hearing not their Tizzarizzen,
As they moaned his sad condition,
As they sobbed, amid the branches,
O'er the death that he had come to,
O'er his speedy dissolution.

But the victor, in his triumph,
Jumped and waved his hat, exulting,
O'er the death that he had come to,
O'er his speedy dissolution;
And, with eager haste, he ran home,
In one hand, Peek-week, the squirrel,
In the other hand, the blow-gun --
Fearful instrument, the blow-gun;
And Marcosset and Sumpunkin
Kissed him, 'cos he killed the squirrel,
'Cos it was a rather big one.
From the squirrel-skin, Marcosset
Made some mittens for our hero,
Mittens with the fur side inside,
With the fur side next his fingers
So's to keep the hand warm inside;
That was why she put the fur side --   
Why she put the fur side, inside.


"By Marc Antony Henderson, D.C.L." pseudonym for the Reverend George Augustus Strong

Cincinnati: Jones, Brown, & Robinson, 1856.