Wyandot County Republican. [volume] (Upper Sandusky, Ohio) 1869-1903, 1872-12-26
Selected Miscellany.
ONE DAY SOLITARY.

i AN all rgntI coed Oy, Old chapI
Twenty-fOu hours, that won't be long;
Nothing to do but to take nap,
And-sayi can fellow sing songs
Will the light fantastic be In order
A pigeon wing on your pantry noor!
What are the rules for a regular Doarder!
Be quiet! All right essng clang goes the door
Ozaao cl;nk. the bolts, and I am locked in.
Some pious reflection and repentance
Come next, I suppose, for just begin
To perceive the sting in the tail of my sentence
"One day whereof shall be solitary"
Here am at the end of my journey,
And.well, it amt jolly, not so veryl
I'd to throttle that sharp attorney
He took my money, the very last dollar
Didn't leave me so much as dime,
Not enough to buy me paper collar
To wear at my trial; he knew all the time
IT was sdme that got for the stolen silver!
Why hasn't he been indicted toos
II he doesn't exactly rob a..d plfer,
He lives by the plumber of them that do,
Then didn't it put me into fury,
To see him step up, and laugh and chat
With the county attorney, and joke with the
When all was over-then go for his hat
While Sue was sobbing to break her heart,
He had pleaded my cause.-The had played his part
And got his feeand what more did he care?
It's droll to think how, just out yonder,
The world goes jogging on the samel
Old men will save and boys will squander,
And fellows will plag at the same old game
And drink and carouse--aHd who win there be
To remember comrade buried here?
l am nothing to them, they are nothing to me!
And Sue---yes, she will forget me too!
Iknowi already her tears are drying.
believe there is nothing that girl can do
SO easy as laughing and lying and crying.
She clung to me well while there was hope,
Then broke her heart in that last wild sob;
But she amt going to sit and NOPE
While am at work on ave years job.
They'll set me to learning trade no doubt;
And must forget to speak or smile.
shall go marching in and out,
One of o silent, tramping file
OF felons at morning and noon and night
just down to the shops and back to the cells
And work with thief at left and right,
And feed and sleep and-nothing else?
Was born for this, Will the old folks know:
can see them now on the old home place:
His gait is feeble, his stepis slow,
There's settled grief in his furrowed face;
While she goes wearly cropping about
In q sort of dream, SO bent SO sad =
But this won't dol must sing and shout,
And forget myself, or else go mad.
won't be foolish; although, for minute,
was there in my little room once more.
What wouldn't rgive:just now to be in it?
The bed is yonder, and there is the door;
The Bible is here on the neat white stand;
In the fickering light reach my hand
From the window, and pluck them from the
When was a child %, well fOrm me
And them il had never been olderD
When he told me stories on his knee,
And tossed me, and carried me on his shoulder;
When she knelt down and heard my PRAYER.
And gave me In bed my goodnight kiss
Did ever they think that all their care
For an only son could come to this?
Foolish againl No sense in tears
And gnashing the teeth! And yet-eomehow-
Haven't thought Of them m SO SO for M years!
How fondly, how blindly, they trusted mel
When should have been in my bed asleep,
Islipped from the window, and down the tree,
And sowed for the harvest which now reap.
And Jennie-how could bear to leave her,
II had but wished-but was fool!
My heart was filed with thirst and fever
Which no sweet airs of heaven could cool.
can hear her asking-"Have you heard?'
But mother falters, and shakes her head;
20 Jennlel Jennie! never wordi
What can it mean? He must be deadr'
Light-hearted. proud. ambitious lad,
left my home that morning in May;
What visions, what hopes, what plans had!
And what have where are they all-te-day?
Wild fellows and wine, and debts, and gaming,
Disgrace, and the loss OF place and friend
And was an outlaw. past retaining;
Arrest and sentence, and-this is the endi
Five yearsl Shall ever quit this prisons
Homeless, an outcast where shall 60?
Return to them, like one arisen
From the grave, that was buried long ago?
Ali is still-it's the close Of the week;
stink through the garden, stop by the we'll
see him totter, hear her shrek!
What sort of q tale will have to tell?
But here am! What's the use of grievings
Five years-will it be too late to begin?
Can sober thinking and honest living
Still make me the man might have been?
I'll sleep; o, would could wake tomorrow
In that old foom to find at last,
That all my trouble and all their sorrow
Are only dream Of the night that is past
Atlantic Monthly.