The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1853-09-08
For the National Era.
NEVER IN LOVE.

have been accused of being wholly devoid
afr heit N! aas ~. ~. 20 ,a
man-enslaving charm of a woman. And have
cried myself To sleep several times because 4.
naughty man, who had to put on the coat |
made for him, and own that broadcloth never
fitted him 80 nicely, said that | never WAS III
love, no knew. Pretty idea just AZ if ! were
man-hater, as u cannibsl IL man.eater. II
the ugly man had called me a csnnibaI
wouldn't have cared no much, for when | see IL
perfect man. ache to cat him up really
think it's rather hard that any one 80 plump
full of palpitating affection as ! am should be
accused Of never being in love, of having no
power to fall in love. Wonder if can't, won
der if ! haven't been That's all the man
knows-curious thing enough To fling at ma
when my heart is ali made of yielding matter
give up all the way through. ! guess tho
schoomaster that taught me to read and spell
could fetch out that man in a beautiful lie, If
| didn't get whipped for spelling DO wrong,
then nobody was ever whipped. I'd begin, ba,
be- bi, b.eau then tingle Jingle went tho
birch, drip, drip went the "oil of hickory" all
because | would spell bo beau. You eco
it was natural 10 me, and was as innocent a.
that brch.rod was long. But ] was whipped,
and whipped, and whipped, and the school
master finally gave it up, and thought he'd pun
ish me some other way, just for change. Has
had tried to have me spell BIO in the way our
fathers and mothers like best but blame hin,
if ] could do it, IL he had cut otf my tongue
rs many times as he said he would my cara, Pd
have stuck TO it that DO was be-a.u.
Well all the birch within five miles was uset
up and the school masters patience was all
used up. What was to be done with me Z
Make me go and sit with the boys-that would
cure any girl of anything wonder If it will
ha hal Ia
Whenever the stiff, old pedagogue sent mo
to sit with the boys ] went straight along, and
FUSED to put my head right down on the desk,
and be thought felt ashamed to st by Billy
Rogers, and was crying about it. Wasn't [
laughing though, for was in love with littls
beau, and was sitting right by him. guess |
knew how to spell beau. Oh! Billy Roger,
wasn't in love with you land it wasn't ths
kind that makes body cry. Oh the pain
Billy drew me on n little sled in winter--in
little wagon in summer---did my sums in add
ton, and with handkerchief all covered with
beautiful printed verses wiped my eyes, and
Billy that washed my slate and when my shoe
strings got into knot, it was Billy that united
them, and tied them into beau
When the nine o'clock bell rang, my shoe.
strings were always dangling; and when my
mother said "Child, why don't you tie up
your shoes ?" couldn't make up my little lacs
to say anything and I'd blush, and look the
other way, for knew they were dangling, ali
for tho love Of Billy Rogers Billy always no
ticed it when my shoes were united and t.
have him az them as they ought to be, was
Just the thing to throw me into tickle. And
when my mother said "What looking shoes!
strings down." TO save me, | couldn't help
blushing. Does that ugly man, that talked 81
about me, doubt that these were the bushes CT
love He hadn't better, for can tell him that
they were the faithful indices Of an affection
that mover crmsoned his cheek. But, If no
won't believe me yet can tell him some more.
When fell down, and ran silver an inch
long into my hand I'D like to know whose pen
knife it was that sweetly drew it out, II ID
wasn't Billy'sl
And wh;n Blly's father hired q house, Gloss
by my fathers, I'D like TO know who it was that
knocked off a picket for little girl to come
through, il 1t weren't Billy and I'D like to
know what little girl shot through so nicely.
when her mother wasn't looking, If it WASN'T
this man. hater, that never knew anything
about love. When the pigs came through, into
the garden, and the picket was nailed on, I'd
like TO know what little girl it was that put
her apron 10 her eyes, and wept tesrsas tender
a. any girl ever cried, To be sure, this didn'r
last always. The picket was nailed on, and
tho pigs didn't come through any more, and
Billy Rogers and the little girl in love didn'r
come through any more. Billy came 10 be-
older, and mastered his passion, and the little