Part 7

And done a thousand little ac's o' kindness and respec'-- And me a-wishin' all the time that I could break his neck! My relief was like a mourner's when the funeral is done When they moved to Illinois in the Fall o' Forty-one.

Then I went to work in airnest--I had nothin' much in view But to drownd out rickollections--and it kep' me busy, too! But I slowly thrived and prospered, tel Mother used to say She expected yit to see me a wealthy man some day.

Then I'd think how little MONEY was, compared to happiness-- And who'd be left to use it when I died I couldn't guess! But I've still kep' speculatin' and a-gainin' year by year, Tel I'm payin' half the taxes in the county, mighty near!

Well!--A year ago er better, a letter comes to hand Astin' how I'd like to dicker fer some Illinois land-- "The feller that had owned it," it went ahead to state, "Had jest deceased, insolvent, leavin' chance to speculate,"--

And then it closed by sayin' that I'd "better come and see."-- I'd never been West, anyhow--a'most too wild fer ME, I'd allus had a notion; but a lawyer here in town Said I'd find myself mistakend when I come to look around.

So I bids good-by to Mother, and I jumps aboard the train, A-thinkin' what I'd bring her when I come back home again-- And ef she'd had an idy what the present was to be, I think it's more'n likely she'd 'a' went along with me!

Cars is awful tejus ridin', fer all they go so fast! But finally they called out my stoppin'-place at last: And that night, at the tavern, I dreamp' I was a train O' cars, and SKEERED at somepin', runnin' down a country lane!

Well, in the morning airly--after huntin' up the man-- The lawyer who was wantin' to swap the piece o' land-- We started fer the country; and I ast the history Of the farm--its former owner--and so forth, etcetery!

And--well--it was interESTin'--I su'prised him, I suppose, By the loud and frequent manner in which I blowed my nose!-- But his su'prise was greater, and it made him wonder more, When I kissed and hugged the widder when she met us at the door!--

IT WAS MARY: . . . They's a feelin' a-hidin' down in here-- Of course I can't explain it, ner ever make it clear.-- It was with us in that meetin', I don't want you to fergit! And it makes me kind o'nervous when I think about it yit!

I BOUGHT that farm, and DEEDED it, afore I left the town With "title clear to mansions in the skies," to Mary Brown! And fu'thermore, I took her and the CHILDERN--fer you see, They'd never seed their Grandma--and I fetched 'em home with me.

So NOW you've got an idy why a man o' fifty-four, Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and more Is a-lookin' glad and smilin'!--And I've jest come into town To git a pair o' license fer to MARRY Mary Brown.

MY JOLLY FRIEND'S SECRET

Ah, friend of mine, how goes it, Since you've taken you a mate?-- Your smile, though, plainly shows it Is a very happy state! Dan Cupid's necromancy! You must sit you down and dine, And lubricate your fancy With a glass or two of wine.

And as you have "deserted," As my other chums have done, While I laugh alone diverted, As you drop off one by one-- And I've remained unwedded, Till--you see--look here--that I'm, In a manner, "snatched bald-headed" By the sportive hand of Time!

I'm an "old 'un!" yes, but wrinkles Are not so plenty, quite, As to cover up the twinkles Of the BOY--ain't I right? Yet, there are ghosts of kisses Under this mustache of mine My mem'ry only misses When I drown 'em out with wine.

From acknowledgment so ample, You would hardly take me for What I am--a perfect sample Of a "jolly bachelor"; Not a bachelor has being When he laughs at married life But his heart and soul's agreeing That he ought to have a wife!

Ah, ha I old chum, this claret, Like Fatima, holds the key Of the old Blue-Beardish garret Of my hidden mystery! Did you say you'd like to listen? Ah, my boy! the "SAD NO MORE!" And the tear-drops that will glisten-- TURN THE CATCH UPON THE DOOR,

And sit you down beside me, And put yourself at ease-- I'll trouble you to slide me That wine decanter, please; The path is kind o' mazy Where my fancies have to go, And my heart gets sort o' lazy On the journey--don't you know?

Let me see--when I was twenty-- It's a lordly age, my boy, When a fellow's money's plenty, And the leisure to enjoy-- And a girl--with hair as golden As--THAT; and lips--well--quite As red as THIS I'm holdin' Between you and the light.

And eyes and a complexion-- Ah, heavens!--le'-me-see-- Well,--just in this connection,-- DID YOU LOCK THAT DOOR FOR ME? Did I start in recitation My past life to recall? Well, THAT'S an indication I am purty tight--that's all!

THE SPEEDING OF THE KING'S SPITE

A king--estranged from his loving Queen By a foolish royal whim-- Tired and sick of the dull routine Of matters surrounding him-- Issued a mandate in this wise.-- "THE DOWER OF MY DAUGHTER'S HAND I WILL GIVE TO HIM WHO HOLDS THIS PRIZE, THE STRANGEST THING IN THE LAND."

But the King, sad sooth! in this grim decree Had a motive low and mean;-- 'Twas a royal piece of chicanery To harry and spite the Queen; For King though he was, and beyond compare, He had ruled all things save one-- Then blamed the Queen that his only heir Was a daughter--not a son.

The girl had grown, in the mother's care, Like a bud in the shine and shower That drinks of the wine of the balmy air Till it blooms into matchless flower; Her waist was the rose's stem that bore The flower--and the flower's perfume-- That ripens on till it bulges o'er With its wealth of bud and bloom.

And she had a lover--lowly sprung,-- But a purer, nobler heart Never spake in a courtlier tongue Or wooed with a dearer art: And the fair pair paled at the King's decree; But the smiling Fates contrived To have them wed, in a secrecy That the Queen HERSELF connived--

While the grim King's heralds scoured the land And the countries roundabout, Shouting aloud, at the King's command, A challenge to knave or lout, Prince or peasant,--"The mighty King Would have ye understand That he who shows him the strangest thing Shall have his daughter's hand!"

And thousands flocked to the royal throne, Bringing a thousand things Strange and curious;--One, a bone-- The hinge of a fairy's wings; And one, the glass of a mermaid queen, Gemmed with a diamond dew, Where, down in its reflex, dimly seen, Her face smiled out at you.