Don't know jes what all occurred Next ten seconds--Nary word, But my heart jes drapt, s...o...b..d thue, And whirlt over and come to.-- Wrenched a big quart bottle from That fool-boy!--and cut my thumb On his little fiste-teeth--helt Him snug in one arm, and felt That-air little heart o' his Churn the blood o' Wigginses Into that old bead 'at spun Roun' her, spilt at Lexington!

His k'niptions, like enough, He'pped us both,--though it was rough-- Rough on him, and rougher on Me when last his nerve was gone, And he laid there still, his face Fishin' fer some hidin'-place Jes a leetle lower down In my breast than he 'd yit foun'!

Last I kindo' soothed him, so's He could talk.--And what you s'pose Them-air revelations of Poke's was? . . . He'd ben writin' love- Letters to Melviney, and Givin her to understand They was from "a young man who Loved her," and--"the violet's blue 'N sugar's sweet"--and Lord knows what!

Tel, 'peared-like, Melviney got S' interested in "the young Man," Poke _he_ says, 'at she brung A' answer onc't fer him to take, Statin' "she'd die fer his sake,"

And writ fifty xs "fer Love-kisses fer him from her!"

I was standin' in the road By the buggy, all I knowed When Poke got that fer.--"That's why,"

Poke says, "I 'fessed up the lie-- _Had_ to--'cause I see," says he, "'Viney was in airnest--she Cried, too, when I told her.--Then She swore me, and smiled again, And got Pap and Mother to Let me hitch and drive her thue Into c.h.i.n.kypin, to be At Aunt 'Rindy's Chris'mas-tree-- That's to-night." Says I, "Poke--durn Your lyin' soul!--'s that beau o' hern-- That--_she_--loves--Does _he_ live in That h.e.l.lhole o' c.h.i.n.kypin?"

"No," says Poke, "er 'Viney would Went some _other_ neighborhood."

"Who _is_ the blame whelp?" says I.

"Promised 'Viney, hope I'd die Ef I ever told!" says Poke, Pittiful and jes heart-broke-- "'Sides that's why she left the place,-- 'She caint look him in the face Now no more on earth!' she says.--"

And the child broke down and jes Sobbed! Says I, "Poke, I p'tend T' be _your_ friend, and your _Pap's_ friend, And your _Mother's_ friend, and all The _boys_' friend, little, large and small-- The _whole fambily's_ friend--and you Know that means _Melviney_, too.-- Now--you hush yer troublin!'--I'm Go' to he'p friends ever' time-- On'y in _this_ case, _you_ got To he'p _me_--and, like as not I kin he'p Melviney then, And we'll have her home again.

And now, Poke, with your consent, I'm go' go to that-air gent She's in love with, and confer With _him_ on his views o' _her_.-- Blast him! give the man _some_ show.-- Who is he?--_I'm go' to know_!"

Somepin' struck the little chap Funny, 'peared-like.--Give a slap On his leg--laughed thue the dew In his eyes, and says: "It's you!"

Yes, and--'cordin' to the last Love-letters of ours 'at pa.s.sed Thue his hands--we was to be Married Chris'mas.--"Gee-mun-_nee_!

Poke," says I, "it's _suddent_--yit We _kin_ make it! You're to git Up tomorry, say, 'bout _three_-- Tell your folks you're go' with me:-- We'll hitch up, and jes drive in 'N take the town o' c.h.i.n.kypin!"

GO, WINTER!

Go, Winter! Go thy ways! We want again The twitter of the bluebird and the wren; Leaves ever greener growing, and the shine Of Summer's sun--not thine.--

Thy sun, which mocks our need of warmth and love And all the heartening fervencies thereof, It scarce hath heat enow to warm our thin Pathetic yearnings in.

So get thee from us! We are cold, G.o.d wot, Even as _thou_ art.--We remember not How blithe we hailed thy coming.--That was O Too long--too long ago!

Get from us utterly! Ho! Summer then Shall spread her gra.s.ses where thy snows have been, And thy last icy footprint melt and mold In her first marigold.

ELIZABETH.

_May 1, 1891_.

I.

Elizabeth! Elizabeth!

The first May-morning whispereth Thy gentle name in every breeze That lispeth through the young-leaved trees, New raimented in white and green Of bloom and leaf to crown thee queen;-- And, as in odorous chorus, all The orchard-blossoms sweetly call Even as a singing voice that saith Elizabeth! Elizabeth!

II.

Elizabeth! Lo, lily-fair, In deep, cool shadows of thy hair, Thy face maintaineth its repose.-- Is it, O sister of the rose, So better, sweeter, blooming thus Than in this briery world with us?-- Where frost o'ertaketh, and the breath Of biting winter harrieth With sleeted rains and blighting snows All fairest blooms--Elizabeth!

III.

Nay, then!--So reign, Elizabeth, Crowned, in thy May-day realm of death!

Put forth the scepter of thy love In every star-tipped blossom of The gra.s.sy dais of thy throne!

Sadder are we, thus left alone, But gladder they that thrill to see Thy mother's rapture, greeting thee.

Bereaved are we by life--not death-- Elizabeth! Elizabeth!

SLEEP.

Orphaned, I cry to thee: Sweet sleep! O kneel and be A mother unto me!

Calm thou my childish fears: Fold--fold mine eyelids to, all tenderly, And dry my tears.

Come, Sleep, all drowsy-eyed And faint with languor,--slide Thy dim face down beside Mine own, and let me rest And nestle in thy heart, and there abide, A favored guest.

Good night to every care, And shadow of despair!

Good night to all things where Within is no delight!-- Sleep opens her dark arms, and, swooning there, I sob: Good night--good night!

DAN PAINE.

Old friend of mine, whose chiming name Has been the burthen of a rhyme Within my heart since first I came To know thee in thy mellow prime; With warm emotions in my breast That can but coldly be expressed, And hopes and wishes wild and vain, I reach my hand to thee, Dan Paine.

In fancy, as I sit alone In gloomy fellowship with care, I hear again thy cheery tone, And wheel for thee an easy chair; And from my hand the pencil falls-- My book upon the carpet sprawls, As eager soul and heart and brain, Leap up to welcome thee, Dan Paine.

A something gentle in thy mein, A something tender in thy voice, Has made my trouble so serene, I can but weep, from very choice.

And even then my tears, I guess, Hold more of sweet than bitterness, And more of gleaming shine than rain, Because of thy bright smile, Dan Paine.

The wrinkles that the years have spun And tangled round thy tawny face, Are kinked with laughter, every one, And fashioned in a mirthful grace.

And though the twinkle of thine eyes Is keen as frost when Summer dies, It can not long as frost remain While thy warm soul shines out, Dan Paine.

And so I drain a health to thee;-- May merry Joy and jolly Mirth Like children clamber on thy knee, And ride thee round the happy earth!

And when, at last, the hand of Fate Shall lift the latch of Canaan's gate, And usher me in thy domain, Smile on me just as now, Dan Paine.

OLD WINTERS ON THE FARM

I have jest about decided It 'ud keep a _town-boy_ hoppin'

Fer to work all winter, choppin'

Fer a' old fire-place, like _I_ did!

Lawz! them old times wuz contrairy!-- Blame backbone o' winter, 'peared-like, _Wouldn't_ break!--and I wuz skeerd-like Clean on into _Febuary_!

Nothin' ever made we madder Than fer Pap to stomp in, layin'

On a' extra fore-stick, sayin'

"Groun'hog's out and seed his shadder!"