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A DEER HUNT
O NE pleasant summer day it came a storm of snow; I picked my old gun and a-hunting I did go.
I came across a herd of deer and I trailed them
through the snow, I trailed them to the mountains where straight up
they did go.
I trailed them o'er the mountains, I trailed them to
the brim, And I trailed them to the waters where they jumped
in to swim.
I cocked both' my pistols and under water went,— To kill the fattest of them deer, that was my whole intent.
While I was under water five hundred feet or more I fired both my pistols; like cannons did they roar.
I picked up my venison and out of water came,— To kill the balance of them deer, I thought it would be fun.