I’ll verse you but I won’t curse you— My name is Peter Wheatstraw, I’m the Devil’s only son-in-law, so roll ’em! You a southern boy, ain’t you?” he said, his head to one side like a bear’s. “Yes,” I said. “Well, git with it! My name’s Blue and I’m coming at you with a pitchfork. Fe Fi Fo Fum. Who wants to shoot the Devil one, Lord God Stingeroy!”
