The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1878-09-21
POETRY.
FORECLOSURES OF THE MORTGAGE,
by MRS. f. T. CORBETT.

Walk right in the settin room, Deacon it's all in
mudde, you see
But hadn't no heart to right it, SO I've jest let
every thing be.
Besides, I'm goin to- -morrer-I calk late to start
with the dawn
And the house won't seem so hOme-like if it's all
upset and forlorn.
I sent off the children this mornin'; they both
em begged to stay,
But thought 'twould be easier, mebbe, if was
alone to-day.
For this was the very day, Deacon, jest twenty
year ago,
That Caleb and me moved in; so couldn't forgit
it, you know
We was so busy and happy!-we'd ben married
month before
And Caleb could clear the table and brush up the
kitchen floor.
He said / was tired, and he'd help me; but, law !!
that was always his way
Always handy and helpful, and kind, to the very
last day.
Don't you remember, Deacon, that winter broke
my arm?
Why, Caleb skursely left me, not even to tend to
the farm.
There night and mornin' saw him, a-settin' so
close to my bed,
And 1 knew him in spite of the fever that made
me so wild in my head.
He never did nothin to greve me, until he left me
behind
Yes. know, there's no use in talkin, but somehow
it eases my mind.
And he sot such store by you, Deacon, needn't
tell you now,
But unless he had your judgment, he never would
buy a COW.
Well, our cows is gone, and the horse too-poor
Caleb was fond of Jack,
And / cried like fool this mornin' when looked
at the empty rack.
hope he'll be kindly treated; 'twould worry poor
Caleb so
If them Joneses should whip that cretur-but
s'pose he amt like to know.
I've ben thinkin' it lately, that when Mary
sickened and died,
Her fathers sperrit was broken, for she was allus
his pride.
He wasn't never so CHEEKY; he'd smile, but the
smile want bright,
And he didn't care for the cattle, though once
they'd been his delight
The neighbors all said he was ailin, and they tried
to hint it to me;
They talked of church-yard cough; but oh the
blind are those who toom't see.
1 never believed he was gOin' till l saw him a.
layin' here dead.
There, there! don't be anxious, Deacon; haven't
no tears to shed.
I've tried to keep things together-Pve been
slavin' early and late
But couldn't pay the int'rest, nor git the farm
work straight
So of course I've gone behindhand, and ifthe farm
should sell
For enough to pay the mortgage, s'pose twill be
doin' WELL
I've prayed ag'inst all hard feein's, and to walk
rs a Christian ought,
But it's hard to Calebs children turned out Of
the place he bought;
And readn' that text in the Bible bout widows
and orphans, you know,
can't think the folks will prosper who are willin
to us go.
But there! I'm a-keepin' you, Deacon, and it's
nigh your time for tea.
" Won't come orer!" No, thank you | feel bet
ter alone, you see.
Besides, IcOudnt eat nOthin'; whenever I've tried
it to-day
There's something here that chokes me. I'm narv-
Gus, s'pose you'll say.
give worked too hard 2" No, 1 haven't. Why,
it's work that keeps me strong;
If I sot here thinkin', I'm sartin my heart would
break before long.
Not that care about livin'. I'd ruther be laid
away
In the place I've marked beside Caleb, to rest till
the jedgment-day.
But there's the children to think of-that makes
my dooty clear,
And I'll try to foller it, Deacon, though I'm tired
of this earthly speer.
Good-by, then, l shant fOrgit you, nor all the
kindness you've showed;
Twill help to cheer me to morrow, as 1 go on my
lonely road,
For What are you sayin', Deacon? 1 needn't
l needn't go?
You've bought the mortgage, and I can stay !!
Stop! say it over Slow
Jest wait nOw-jest wait a mnute-I'll take it in
bimeby
That l can stay. Why, Deacon, l don't know
what makes me cry
l haven't no words to thank you. Eff Caleb was
only here,
He'd sech a head for speakin, he'd make my feel
ins clear.
There's picter in our Bible of an angel from the
skies,
And though he hasn't no great-coat, and no spec
tacles on his eyes,
He looks jest like you, Deacon, with your smile
good and trew,
And whenever l see that picter, twill make me
think of you.
The children will be so happy Why, Debby will
most go wild;
She fretted so much at leavin' her garden behind,
poor child!
And law I'm as glad as Debby, eff only for jest
one thing
No,c can tend the posies 1 planted there last
spring
On Caleb's grave he loved the flowers, and it
seems as eff he'll know
They're a-bloomin all around him while he's sleep
in there below.
-Harpers Magazine for September.