Hod Putt
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ere I lie close to the graveOf Old Bill Piersol,Who grew rich trading with the Indians, and whoAfterwards took the Bankrupt LawAnd emerged from it richer than everMyself grown tired of toil and povertyAnd beholding how Old Bill and others grew in wealthRobbed a traveler one Night near Proctor’s Grove,Killing him unwittingly while doing so,For which I was tried and hanged.That was my way of going into bankruptcy.Now we who took the bankrupt law in our respective waysSleep peacefully side by side.
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