C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
In the Tunnel
By Bret Harte (1836–1902)
D
Flynn of Virginia,—
Long as he’s been yar?
Look’ee here, stranger,
Whar hev you been?
He was my pardner,
That same Tom Flynn,—
Working together,
In wind and weather,
Day out and in.
Well, that is queer;
Why, it’s a sin
To think of Tom Flynn,—
Tom with his cheer,
Tom without fear,—
Stranger, look yar!
Back to the wall,
He held the timbers
Ready to fall;
Then in the darkness
I heard him call:
“Run for your life, Jake!
Run for your wife’s sake!
Don’t wait for me.”
And that was all
Heard in the din,
Heard of Tom Flynn,—
Flynn of Virginia.
Flynn of Virginia.
That lets me out.
Here in the damp,
Out of the sun,
That ’ar derned lamp
Makes my eyes run.
Well, there,—I’m done!
Hear the next fool
Asking of Flynn,
Flynn of Virginia,
Just you chip in,
Say you knew Flynn;
Say that you’ve been yar.