The Volcano lubricator. (Volcano, W. Va.) 1871-1879, 1873-12-16
Poetry.
LUKE.
I'm the Colorado Park, 1881
By BRET IIARTE.
LUKE.
By BRET IiARTE.


wonder YOU'RE thin cz knife.
Look at nc!-clar two hundrcd-and never
read one in my life!
That's my opinion O. novels. And ez to their
lyin' round here,
They belonged to the Jcdgc's daughtcr-thc
ledge who came up last year
On account of his lungs and the mountains
and the balstm O. pine and fir;
And his daughtcr-wcll. she read novels, and
that's what's the matter with her.
Yet she was sweet on the ledge, and stuck by
him day and night,
Alone in the cabin up ycr-till she grew like
aghost, all white.
She wus only slip of thing, cz light and cz
up and away
Ez rifle smoke blown through the woods, but
she wasn't my kind-no way!
spcakin' o. gals, dye mind that house on yon
rise the hill,
A mile and half from Whites, and jist a.
hove Mattingly's mill?
You do: We'll, now THAR's a gal! What
YOU saw her: o, come now, thar quit!
She was only bcdcvlin' you boys, tor to me
she don't cotton one bit.
Now she's what call gal-ez pretty and
plump cz 4 quail;
Teeth ez white ez 4 hounds, and they'd go
through a tcnrcnny nail;
Eyes that kin snap like cap, So she asked
to know "whar WAS hid"
She did: o, it's jist like her sass, for shc's
pcart as Katydid.
But what was talking of 20! the ledge and
his daughtcr-Shc read
Novels the whole day long, and reckon she
read them abcd,
And sometimes she read them out loud TO the
ledge on the porch where he sat,
AID twas how Lord augustus said this,
and how Lady Blanche" she said that.
But the sickcst of all that hccrd was yarn
that they read bout chap,
Misunderstanding by name, and hunter
chock full o. the grcenest o sap;
And they asked me hear, but says, "Miss
Mable, not any for me;
When likes kin sling my own lies and thet
chap and shouldn't agree"
Yet somehow or other she was always Sayin'
drought hcr TO mind
OF folks about whom she had read, or sui in
bclikc Of thct kind,
And thar warn't no end o. the names that she
give me that summer up here,
robin Hood" Leather Stocking" Rob
Roy,"-O, tell you, the critter was queer.
And yet cf She hadn't been spilled, she was
harmless enough in her way,
She could jabhcr in French to her dad, and
they said that she knew how TO play;
And she worked me that shot-pouch up thar
which the man doesn't live cZ kin use,
And slippers-you see 'cm down yer-ez wo'd
cradle an injin's pappoose.
/ Ct along O. them novels, You sec, she was
wastin and mopin'; way,
And then she got shy with her tongue, and al
last had nothin' to say;
And whenever happened around, her face It
was hid by a book,
And it warn't until she left that she give me
ez much ez look.
And this was the way it was: 1t was night
when ken up here
To say to 'em all "good-byc," for l reckoned
to go for deer
At ''sun up' the day they left. So shook
'cm all round by the hand,
'Cept Mabel, and she was sick, cz they give
me TO understand.
But jist cz passed the house next morning at
dawn, some one,
Like little vaver o. mist, got up the hill
with the sun;
Miss Mabel it was, aonc-all wrapped in a
mantle o. lace
And she stood thcro straight in the road, with
touch o. t!:c sun in her face.
And she looked me right in the cyc--I'd seen
suthin' Ike it before
When hunted 4 w"undcd dec TO the edge o
the Clear Lake s!!orc,
And had my knee on its neck, and jst was
raisn' my knife
W Ncn IL Sl"c Ulc IL iooh HhS ti'iI' a"u--NS'',
it got oil with its life.
ave are going today" she said, "and
thought would say goodbye
To You in your own house, Luke these woods
and the bright blue sky!
You've always hccn kind to US, Luke, and pa
pa has found you still
AS good rs The air he brcathcs, and whole
some rs Laurel Tree Hill.
"And We'll always think Of you, Luke, as the
thing we could not take away;
The balsam that dwe!ls in the woods, the
rainbow that lives in the spray.
And you'll sometimes think OF NE, Luke, as
YOU know You once used TO say,
\ rifle smoke blown through the woods, I
moment, but never to stay"
And then We shook hands. She turned, bri
a-suddint she tottercd and fell,
And caught her sharp by the waist, and held
her Il minit-wcll,
1t was only 4 mint, You know, that cz cold
and c2 white she lry
Es 4 snow flake here on breast, and then
well, she melted away
books; but SAYS not any tcr me;
Good enough, my be Tor sonc, but ihcp aud
,riuht 7 lpr,C,