Now in building of chaises I tell you what, There is always _somewhere_ a weakest spot-- In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or thill, In panel or crossbar or floor or sill, In screw, bolt, thorough-brace,--lurking still, 5 Find it somewhere you must and will-- Above or below or within or without-- And that's the reason, beyond a doubt, A chaise _breaks down_, but doesn't _wear out_.

But the Deacon swore (as Deacons do, 10 With an "I dew vum" or an "I tell _yeou_") He would build one shay to beat the taown 'N' the keounty 'n' all the kentry raoun'; It should be so built that it _couldn't_ break daown.

Story Hour Readings: Seventh Year — Part 168

"Fur," said the Deacon, "'t's mighty plain 15 Thut the weakes' place mus' stan' the strain; 'N' the way t' fix it, uz I maintain, Is only jest T' make that place uz strong uz the rest."

Story Hour Readings: Seventh Year — Part 168

So the Deacon inquired of the village folk 20 Where he could find the strongest oak, That couldn't be split nor bent nor broke-- That was for spokes and floor and sills; He sent for lancewood to make the thills; The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees 25 The panels of whitewood, that cuts like cheese But lasts like iron for things like these; The hubs, of logs from the "Settler's ellum"-- Last of its timber--they couldn't sell 'em--

Story Hour Readings: Seventh Year — Part 168

Never an ax had seen their chips, And the wedges flew from between their lips, Their blunt ends frizzled like celery tips; Step and prop iron, bolt and screw, Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too, 5 Steel of the finest, bright and blue; Thorough-brace, bison skin, thick and wide; Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide Found in the pit when the tanner died. That was the way he "put her through." 10 "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, 15 Children and grandchildren--where were they? But there stood the stout old one-hoss shay, As fresh as on Lisbon-Earthquake day!

_Eighteen hundred_--it came and found The Deacon's masterpiece strong and sound. 20 Eighteen hundred increased by ten-- "Hahnsum kerridge" they called it then. Eighteen hundred and twenty came-- Running as usual; much the same. Thirty and Forty at last arrive, 25 And then come Fifty--and _Fifty-five_.