Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1874-02-14
CICELI,
AIkaii station.
BY BRET HAnrE.

cicely says you're poet maybe; amt much on
i reckon you'd give a hundred, aud beat me
every time.
Poetry that's the way some chaps put M an idcc.
But takes mine " straight without sugar and
that what's the matter with me.
roetry just look round you-alkal rock and
sagebrnsh rock and alkali; ain't it pretty page
Sun i'll the East a. morning, sun in the West at
night
And the shadow of this yer station the on'y thing
moves in sight.
Poetry. Well, no. Polly, Polly, run to your nam
Run right away, my rooty! By-byo! Ant she a
lamb?
Poetry! That reminds me o suthn right in that
Jest she that door, thar will yer! for Ciccly's
Ye noted Folly, the baby? Amonth afore she was
born,
Cicely (my old wonian) moody-like and forlorn
Out of her head and crazy, and talked of flowers
and trees
Family man yourself. sir ? Well, You know what Il
woman bes.
Narvous she and restess-said that she couldn't
stay
$tay-and the nearest woman seventeen miles
away.
But fixed il up with the doctor, and he said he
would be on hand;
And kinder stuck by the shanty, and fenced in
that bit o land.
One nght-one tenth of October-I woke with a
chill and fright
For the door it standing oIen, and Cicely warnt
in sight;
But note was pinned on the blanket which it said
that she q couldn't stay
But had gone to visit her nciShborsevcntecn miles
away!
When and how she stamIeded. didn't wait for TO
see,
For out in the road next mint started as wild as
she:
Running first this way and that way, like hound
that is of the scent,
For there warnt no track in the darkness to tell me
the way she went.
l. ye had some mighty mean moments aforc KEN
to this spot
Lost on the plains in So drowndcd almost and shot;
Rut ont on this akali desert, hunting crazy wife,
Was rally as unsatisfactory as anything i'll my life.
"Cicely Ccely! Ccey y 1 called and 1 held my
And "ciccly came from the canyon-and all was
still as death.
And "cicey Cicey! Cccy!' came from the rocks
below:
And jest but a whisper of Ciccly!" down from
them peaks of snow.
ant what you call religious; bnt jest looked up
to the sky,
And-this yer,s to what I'm comin' and maybe yc
think lie.
But up away to the BASTARD, yallcr and big and
far,
saw of suddnt rising the snSlcrest kind of
star.
Big and Haller and dancing, 1t seemed to bcckon TO
me;
Yaer and big and dancing such as you never
see;
Big and yaller and dancing, l never saw such a
star;
And thought of them harps in the Bible, and
went for it then and thar.
Over the brush and powders stumbled and pushed
ahead;
Keeping the star afore me, went wherever it led.
/ might hev been for an hour, when s,tddent and
pert and nigh,
Out of the yearth afore me thar riz up babys cry.
Listen! thar's the same music; but they arc
stronger
Than the day | packed her and her mothcr-In
burned if jest know how,
But the doctor KEN the next minnit and the joke
% the whole thing is
That CHS never knew what happened from that very
night to this.
But Cicely says you're poet and maybe you
might some day,
Just sling her rhyme bout "A baby that was borl
in a curious way.
And see what she says; and, old fellow, when you
speak of the star. don't tell
As how twas the doctors lantern-for maybe
'twont sound so we'll