Ashtabula weekly telegraph. [volume] (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1853-1873, 1873-12-20

Ut BnEr HAHrr.

BRET HAHTE.
wot's that you're reldin. IA noveif A novei-weil
You, man crown and besrded and histin such stuf
es thatin-
Stun about Rsl. and their sweeiheartsi No wonder
Look at me l.-clar two hundred-and never read one
In my lifei
That's my opinion Of novels. And eE to their lyin'
They belonged 70 the Jedges daughterthe Jedge who
On account Of hi. lungs and the mountains, and the
And hi. daughter-weii. she read novels, and that's
what's the matter with her.
Yet she was sweet the Jedge, and stuck by him day
Alone in the cabin up yer-t she grew like ghost,
all white.
She only slip of thing oz light and en up and
Ez riHc-sruoke blown through the wood. but she
wasn't my kinG--no wayi
speakin o. gals, dye mind that house you rise the
Annie and hsf Om Whites and Just above Mating
You do' Well, now thar's gal what, you saw herr
She only bedesiin you Doys, for to me she don't
cotton one bit.
Now. she's what call eal-eS pretty and plump ez
Teeth es white ez hounds. and they'd go through
Eye. .Sat Kin snap ike cap. So she asked to know
She did 9, itsjIst like her sass--fOr she's pert ez
Katy did.
But what was talking of'-oi the ledge and his
daughter-she read
Novels the whole day long and reckon she read them
And sometimes she read them out loud to the Jedge.
And twas how Lord Augustus" said this aud how
Lady Blanche" she said that.
But the sckest Of all that heard yarn that they
Leather stocking by name, and hunter chock full
And they asked me 10 hear, but says, "Miss Mabel
When | likes can cling my own lics. and thet chap
and shouldnt agree"
Yet somehow. she was always sayn brought
or folks about whom she had read or uhin' beke of
And thar warn'i no end % the names het she gave me
"Robbn Hood" misunderstanding" Rob Roy,"-o,
tell you, the critter was queer.
And yet ef she hadn't been spilled, she was harmless
She copld jabber in French her dad and they say
. that she knew how to play;
And she worked me tibet shotpouch up thar which
. the man doesn't live ez kin use,
And Slippers-yOu see 'em down yer-cz would cradle
an lnjin's pappoose.
Yet along o. them novels, you see, she was wastIn,
And then got shy with her tongue, and at last had
And whenever happened around, her face 1t was hid
And it warnt until she le that she give me ez much
ez n look.
And this the way it was 1t was night when KEN
- up here
To say to cm all good bye" for reckened to go for
At "sunup'' the day they left. So shook 'em all
w. round by the hand,
derstand
Like little waver o. mist, got up on the hill with the
Miss Ma bel it was-all alone. wrapped IN in mantle
o lace
And she stood there straight in the road, with touch
o. the sun In her face.
snthin' like II before
When hunted wounded doc to the edge o. Clear
Lake shore,
And had my knee Its neck and jst was raisin my
When il gave look like that, and-we 1t got off
with its life.
we , are going to-day" she said," and thought 1
TO you in your own house. Luke-these woods and the
You've always been kind to us, Luke, and papa has
found you still -
As good the air he breaths and wholesome as Lau
rel Tree Hill.
And weI always think of you, Luke, the thing we
m could not take away;
The basam that dwells in the woods, the rainbow that
And you'll sometimes think of me- Luke as Won know
. you once used to say.
rihe.smoke blown through the woods, moment,
bat never to stay"
And then shook hands, She turned hut a-suddent |
she tOttered and fell
And caught her sharp by the waist. and held her
minit-well
It was only mint. you know, thet ez cold and ez
white she lay ~ r
sz snowflake here my breast, and then-well she
melted away
And was gone. And thar are her books; but Gays
aood enough may be for some, but them and mighnt
agree.
they spilled decent gal might hev made come chap
wife,
And look at mel-clar two hundred-and never read |
one In my life
scribner's for December.