Day: March 25, 2026

This poem was sent to Billy and Ma c.1922. It is housed in Morgan Library at Grace College.

Transcription

THE SAW-DUST TRAIL

The Devil sure is hiding out
Since Billy Sunday came to town;
He’s getting knocked and cuffed about,
For Billy’s surely got him down.
He smashed his nose and blacked his eye—
The Devil howled a mighty wail
When sinners heard the pleading cry
And marched along the saw-dust trail.

The Devil now is quite a monk
Since Billy tore his mask aside;
He does not show one bit of spunk—
Begs us to spare his rotten hide;
With injured look and sickly smile
He hopes that pity will avail.
Ah no! for hundreds yet will file
Right down along the saw-dust trail.

The primrose path where evil lures
Is shown in all its bleak despair;
All pleasures fade—not one endures—
When we have reached old Satan’s lair.
And Billy shows the hateful Thing
That makes our lives a woeful tale;
You almost hear Hell’s anvils ring,
And we are drawn to hit the trail.

His doctrines may not all be clear,
But Billy’s surely fighting sin;
We know his motives are sincere,
And we can’t help from joining in.
He makes you see the battle strong
That’s not for cowards who would quail;
We join the right against the wrong,
And march right down the saw-dust trail!

Old Satan thought he had a cinch
On Charleston souls, both young and old;
But now he knows he’s in a pinch,
For Billy’s punch has knocked him cold.
Aggressive Right will always win—
The Serpent knows he’s doomed to fail;
He cowers low, with sickly grin,
When strong men hit the saw-dust trail!

Charleston, W. Va.
March 20, 1922.

T. J. Honaker

“With my compliments, and very great admiration for ‘Billy.’”