The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1874-02-21
SHERIFF THORSE.
by j. T. TRowBRIDGE.

by j. T. TRowBRIDGE.
That should be sheriff, and keep the jail
And that yondcr stately old fellow you see
Marching across the yard, should be
My prisoner-wcll tits curious tale,
As you'll agree.
For it happens, we've been here once before
Together, and served our tme-although
Not Just as you see us now, YOU know;
When we were younger both by n score
or years, or so.
When was a wild colt two.thirds grown
TOO wild for ever II curb or rein,
Playing my tricks till needn't explain;
got three months ut 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 roughish kind OF card
That curried me-
stout steel bracelet about my lcg,
cannon-shos and chain at my feet,
pounded the stones in the public street,
With heart crammcd full OF hate as an cgg
Is full of meat
The schoolboys jeercd at my prison rig,
And me, if moved, they used to call
(For went with jerk, if | went at all
A gentleman dancing the jail-bird jig
Alta county ball.'
But once as / sat in the usual place,
On Il heap of stones, and hammered away
At the rocks with heart as hard As they,
And cursed Macadaln and all his race
There CHANGED that way.
Sir the lovelicst girl, don't mean pretty,
But there was that in her troubled eye,
In her sweet, sad glance, as she passed me by,
mat seemed like ANGELS rputlp pltE
For such as !.
And, sir, to my soul that pure look gave
Such Il thrill as u summer morning brings,
With its twitter and hutter of songs and wings,
To one crOuched all night long in cave
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
pair Of eyes made kind of light
That filled my cell.
Women can do with us what they will;
Twas only a village girl, but she,
With the flash of glance, had shown to me,
The wretch was, and the self | still
Might strive to he.
And if in my misery began
To feel fresh hope and courage stir,
To turn my back upon the things that were,
And my face to the future of man,
'TwGs all for her.
And that is my story. And as for the lady?
! saw her-oh yes-when was free,
And thanked her, and--well, come with me-
AS likely as not, when supper is ready,
Shell pour your tea,
She keeps my house, and keep the Jail;
And the stately old fellow who passed lust now,
And tipped ne that very peculiar bow
But that is the wonderful part of the tale,
As you'Il allow
For he, you must know, was sheriff then,
And he guarded me as guard him!
llhc icttcr wore now fits his Limbo
just one of your high-tlown, straight-laccd men,
Pompous and grim.
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 a beam
What fault? Twas not one fault alone
That brought him low but treachcrous train
OF vices sappng the heart and brain.
Then came his turn at breaking stone,
with ball and chain.
1t seemed, | admit, sort of treason
To clip him, and give him the cap and ball
Ana That was his keeper seemed worst OF all |
And now, in n word, if YOU ask the reason
or this mans fall
twas woman again, is my reply.
And SO said, and say it still,
mat women can do with us what they will;
strong men they turn with the twirl of an eve,
For good or Ill.