Ben Unger-s wife was dark and small,
With little, round, black eyes;
Ben Unger started at her call,
For Ben had been made wise.
No dirge could crush his spirit but
The one by Annie sung;
No whip-lash ever made could cut
Like Annie Unger-s tongue.

But Annie had a round, red cheek,
A figure like a plum,
And Henderson from up the creek
In courtship sly would come.
Then Annie voiced no angry call,
Here dirge remained unsung,
And very gentle was the fall
Of Annie Unger-s tongue.

Ned Holman went to Ben upon
The hill in Colter-s hay.
He said: -your wife with Henderson
Ran off at ten to-day!�
Ben stood stock still. -All right!� said he;
Then with a little laugh:
-That makes us quits at last. -Twas me
That stole his brindle calf!�