Classic Poem

Jacob Jacobs, of Oakland, he swore:
'Dat Solomon Martin-I'll haf his gore!'
Solomon Martin, of Oakland, he said:
'Of Shacob Shacobs der bleed I vill shed!'
So they met, with seconds and surgeon at call,
And fought with pistol and powder and-all
Was done in good faith,-as before I said,
They fought with pistol and powder and-shed
Tears, O my friends, for each other they marred
Fighting with pistol and powder and-lard!
For the lead had been stolen away, every trace,
And Christian hog-product supplied its place.
Then the shade of Moses indignant arose:
'Quvicker dan lighdnings go vosh yer glose!'
Jacob Jacobs, of Oakland, they say,
Applied for a pension the following day.
Solomon Martin, of Oakland, I hear,
Will call himself Colonel for many a year.