St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1890-08-16
A wOMAN's LOVE.

"a poor old woman your aid implores
To drive the wolf from her battered doors
have dragged my footsteps all the way
From good old Cunningham town to-day.
II it's only penny. twill help to keep
bed and board where to eat and sleep
ut isn't respectable now to beg,
Rut nv back is weak and I've lost leg,
And 30 am hobbling from door to door
TO beg my bread or a trife more;
The living is hard and coarse and rough
And many u time I've not enough.
lyon needn't be scoffing, for you some day
Nav wander about In the self same way,
And pick up the crust where once you dlneo
When fortune and beauty on you shined.
1t doesn't take long, when once we fall,
To souander our virtue, wealth and ALL
And 80 will tell you, though little you care
That was reared In stylish square,
And every one said, in all the town,
handsomer girl could not be found.
All that fathers wealth could give
Was mine for the taking, to keep ana nave
..Rut Archie Dean was handsome man;
He could hook my gloves or hold my fan;
People called him a trife wild,
But T thought that well for an only child;
He always was ready to take me drive
And never came sooner than half past five
MY father was rather opposed to him.
And acted q little gruf and grim;
But Archie was all I could see or hear,
His picture went wiz me far and near;
So fath"r FOR peace. appeared more mild,
And Gu led NV Archie his second child.
And there where thought my troubles done
found they were only just begun.
NV ewes were washed Of their touchdown sand
And found that Archie was only man,
And not the man who was fit to guide
NV tottering ship DER the stormy tide.
he squandered my money as he went,
Till everything had was spent;
And, tattered and freezing mad and wlld'
stood one night with nv nursing chllo,
And gazed on the vauited sky above,
That was warmer far than my frozen love.
II felt chill DER my bosom creep
Where my innocent child lay fast asleep;
It wasn't the chill of the winds so beld
But the chill Of love grown hard snd cold.
/ press ID the child to my aching breast,
And the chubby, dimpled hands earessed.
II went that night from my native town,
With pride dethroned and broken down,
Ard never trace left behind
That they my wandering steps might find.
My poor old mother died of grief
since then have felt like guilty thief.
Il dare not turn my steps that way
For the grass grows over grave to-day
And low, white tombstone, messy green
Is carved with the letter, Archie Dean.
wonder If ever he comes to me
II all my wretchedness he can sees
II ever he does know the calm
OF heaven will ever will be lost to him,
For he threw me over the dreary deck
And left me there stranded wreck.
But why do speak SO Ill of the dead!
Pc. haps it was who was wrong instead.
1T may be that Archie was kir d and true,
At least lwoud rather say 80 to you:
Who knows what he might have been at heart
And was unwilling to bear my part.
should have been patient, at least for the
child
1t was 60 natural for him to be wild.
The childs Oh, she's living and working tol
bread,
Sometimes think she had better be dead.
For who knows the fate Of the woman who
earns
The bread that she eats by handy turns?
would rather she too In the ground should be
Than to live and be miserable here like me.
"A penny All, thank YOU. It's hard to beg.
And wander about with stick for a leg
But sold myself and all my pride
And bartered my soul as Arehie's bride,
The roses have fdllen-they'n soon decay,
And the wild winds toss them far away.
Its rather a rough old life for me
But it can't last long till I'll be free
And under the grass so fresh and green
They'll lay me away by Archie Dean
And only the angels will mark the spot
And drop tear for my bitter lot"
Lille BinkIeq AtchSA0n Kan.