Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1873-12-18
LUKE.
I'M THE COLORADO PARK. 1877

I'm THE COLORADO PARK, 1917
wors that your rcadin'f-a novel; A novel-well
darn my skin!
You man grown and bearded, and his,ing such
STUFF about gals and their swcetheartsl No won
der you're thin knife.
Look at me! clar two hundrcd-and never read
one In my life.
That's my opinion o. novels And ez to their lyin
areund here,
They belonged to the Jedgc's daughter-thc
ledge who came up last year
On account Of his lungs and the mountai 9, and
the basam o pine and d mr.; nov.,. and
that's what's the matter with her.
Yet she was sweet on the ledge, and stuck by him
Alone ID the cabin up yer-till she grew like a
ghost. all white.
She was only slip Of thing, cz light and CT up
IL rife smoke blown through the woods, but she
wasn't my kind--no way
Speakin' O. gals, dye mind that house ez you rise
A mile and q half from Whites, and iist above
You dor We'll now. Mar's a gall What you saw
herr o, come now, thar, quit
She was only bcdevlin' you boys, for to me she
don't cotton one bit.
Now she's what call gal-sz pretty and plump
Z
Teeth a. white ez hounds and they'd go through
Eyes That snap ss s. s cap 50 she asked to
She did, o, It's jist like her sass for she's pcart
eza Katy-did
But what was talkin' ofs-Oi the ledge and his
danghtershe read
them sbcd,
And sometimes She read them out loud 10 the
.Jedge on the porch where he sat, 49,. .a
And twas how Lord Augustus" SAID TINS, ana
how Lady Blanche" she said thaf,
But the sickest Of ali that heerd, was yarn tibet
they read bout chap,
..Lcsthcr stocking by name, and hunter chock
full o. the grecnest o. sap: -
And they asked me to hear, but says, miss
when likes kin sling my own lies, and tibet
chap and shouldn't agree"
Yet somchow-or.other she was always sayn l
brought her 10 mind
OF folks about whom she had read, or suthin be-
like o. tibet kind,
me tibet summer up here,
s'Robin Hood, - .Leather-sto kings" Rob Roy
., 1 tell you, the crittcr was queer.
And yet ef she hadn't been spilled, she was harm
less enough In her way;
She could jabber In French TO her dad, ana thcy
said that she knew how to play,
And she worked me that shotpouch up thar-
which the man doesn't live ez kin use, :,
And sppcrs--you see 'em down yer-ez would
cradle an Iniin's pappoose.
Yet along o. them novels you see she was wastin'
and mopin away,
And then she got shy with her tongue and ut last
had notbin' to say;
And whenever happened around, her face 1t was
hid by a book,
And 1t warn until she left that she give me ez
much OF u look.
And this was the way 1t was. 1t was night when
To say to 'em ali 'good-by," for rcckoned to go
for deer
At ''sun up" the day they left. so shook 'em
Sept Mabel and she was sick, cz they give mo to
understand.
But list an passed the houee next morning at
dawn, some one, 40
Like little wavsr o. mist, got up on the hill with
the sum
Miss Mabel II was, alone-all wrapped In mantle
And stood there straight in the road, with touch
o. the sun In her face.
And she looked me right In the eyc--I'd seen
suthn like II before,
When hunted wounded doc TO the edge o.
Clear Lake shore,
And had my knee on its neck and jist was raisin'
my knife,
got of with Its life,
I'VE are gong to-day. sne sara, ana thouBnt
would say g0od-by
To you In your own house, Luke-thcse woods
and the bright blue skyi
You've always been kind to u.s. Luke, and papa
has found you still
As good an the air he brcathes, and wholesome
Laurel Tree Hill.
~"And Wen always think OF you, Luke, as the
thing VIC could not take away;
The balsam thai dwells In the woods, the rainbow
that lives I'm the spray.
And you'll sometimes think Of me, Luke, as You
know you once used to say.
rifle smoke blown through the woods, a moment
but never to stay"
And then we shook hands. She turned, but a. sud
dent she tottered and fell,
And caught her sharp by the waist, and held her
o minit--well,
1t was only mint, you know, that ez cold and ez
white she lay
Ia q snow fake here on my breast, and then
well, she melted away
And was gone. And thar are her books;
but ] says not any for me,
Coed enough may be for some, but them and l
mightn't agree.
They spilled q decent gal cz might have made
some chap a wife,
And look Mt mci--clar two hundrcd-and never
read one In my life!
Bret Hayte, In Scribners Monthly.