Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1874-02-06
Poetry.
SHERIFF TITORNE,
Or what Two Women Did.


That should be sheriff, and keep the jail,
And that yonder stately old fellow you see
Marching across the yard should be
My prisoner-well, It's curious tale,
As youll agree.
For 1t happens, we've been hero once before
Together, and served our me,-hllhough
Not Just as you see us now, you know;
when We were younger both by score
ofyears, or so.
When I was 4 wild colt two-thlrds grown,
Too wild for ever a curb or rein,
Playing my tricks till needn't explain -
got three months at breaking stone
with ball and chain.
The fodder was mean, and the work was hard,
And work and could never agree,
And the discipline-wel in short, you see,
Twas rather a roughish kind Of a card
That curried me.
stout steel bracelet about my leg,
cannon shot and chain at my feet,
pounded the stoncB in the public street,
with a heart crsmmed full Of hate as egg
Is full Of meat.
The school-boys jccrcd at my prison rig,
(For went with jerk, If l went at ally
"a gentleman dancing the JAil-brd Jig
Alta country bar!"
But once, as sat in the usual place,
on heap Of stones, and hammered away
At the rocks with a heart as hard as they,
And cursed McAdAm and all his race,
There CHANGED that way,
Sir, the loyeest girl! don't mean pretty,
But there was that in her troubled eye,
In her sweet, Fad glance As she passed me by,
That seemed like an angels gentle pity
For such as l.
And, sir, to my soul that pure look gave
Such thrill as a summer morning brings,
with its twitter and hutter Of songs and wings,
To one crouched all night long in 4
OF venomous things.
Down the broad green street she passed from sight,
But all that day was under spell,
And all that night remember we'll
A pair Of eyes made kind Of Light
That nlled my cell.
Women can do with US what they will:
Twas only village girl, but she,
With the fash Of glance, had shown to me
The wretch was, and the self still
Might strive to be.
AMI II in my misery began
To feel fresh hope and courage STIR
To turn my back upon things that were,
And my face to the future Of man.
Twas all for her.
And that is my story. And as for the lady7
saw hsr-ch, yos-whcn was free,
And thankt her, and-wel, come with me;
A likely as not, when supp r ia ready
She'll pour your tea.
She keeps my house, and keep the Jail;
And the stately old fellow who passed Just now,
And tipped me that very peculiar bow
But that is the wonderful part Of the tale,
As you1l allow.
For he, you must know, sheriff then,
And he guarded me as guard him!
(The fctter l wore now fits his lmbD
Just ne Of your high flown, straight-lAced men,
Pompous and griIn,-
The Great Mogul Of our little town!
But while was struggling to redeem
My youth he sank in the worlds esteem,
My stock went up while his went down,
Like the ends Of beam.
What fault. Twas not one fault alone
That brought him low, but treAchercus train
OF vices, sapping the heart and brain.
Then came his turn at breaking stone,
With ball and chain.
1t seemed I admit, a sort OF ftrcason
To clip him, and give him the cap and ball,
And that was his keeper seemed worst Of all!
And now, in a word, If you AJAX the reason
OF this mans fall,-
Twas q woman again-is my reply.
And 30 / said, and | say 1t still,
That women can do with us what they win:
Strong men they turn with the twirl Of an eye,
For good or ILL.,
-FebTuHy Atlantic