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Updated: August 28, 2024
I'm the fellah that tole one day The tale of the won'erful one-hoss-shay. Wan' to hear another? Say. Funny, wasn'it?
Georgius Secundus was then alive, Snuffy old drone from the German hive! That was the year when Lisbon-town Saw the earth open and gulp her down, And Braddock's army was done so brown, Left without a scalp to its crown. It was on the terrible Earthquake-day That the Deacon finished the one-hoss-shay.
That was the way he "put her through." "There!" said the Deacon, "naow she'll dew!" Do! I tell you, I rather guess She was a wonder, and nothing less! Colts grew horses, beards turned gray, Deacon and deaconess dropped away, Children and grand-children where were they? But there stood the stout old one-hoss-shay As fresh as on Lisbon-earthquake-day!
In Boston, at Aunt Hester's, nobody ever thought much about what they wore, and I got along all right, somehow, but this summer down at Aunt Grace's, my clothes seemed to go to pieces all at once." "Like the 'One-Hoss-Shay," said Aunt Alice, laughing. "Well, this is indeed a sad state of affairs. But perhaps we can find a way out of the difficulty." "Yes, of course we can," said Patty, eagerly.
Little of all we value here Wakes on the morn of its hundredth year Without both feeling and looking queer. In fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth, So far as I know, but a tree and truth. You're welcome. FIRST OF NOVEMBER, the Earthquake-day. There are traces of age in the one-hoss-shay. A general flavor of mild decay, But nothing local, as one may say.
That was the way he "put her through." "There!" said the Deacon, "naow she'll dew." Do! I tell you, I father guess She was a wonder, and nothing less! Colts grew horses, beards turned gray, Deacon and deaconess dropped away, Children and grand-children where were they? But there stood the stout old one-hoss-shay As fresh as on Lisbon-earthquake-day!
Georgius Secundus was then alive, Snuffy old drone from the German hive. That was the year when Lisbon-town Saw the earth open and gulp her down, And Braddock's army was done so brown, Left without a scalp to its crown. It was on the terrible Earthquake-day That the Deacon finished the one-hoss-shay.
In fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth, So far as I know, but a tree and truth. You're welcome. FIRST OF NOVEMBER, the Earthquake-day. There are traces of age in the one-hoss-shay. A general flavor of mild decay, But nothing local, as one may say. There couldn't be, for the Deacon's art Had made it so like in every part That there wasn't a chance for one to start.
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