Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1891-05-16
JOE; MY PARp, The PARsoN.

We were sitting round the fire,
Staring at the logs ablaze
In a sort of waking slumber,
Watching lazily the ways
That the flames would dance n flicker,
Lighting up the trees around.
While the swapping and the cracking
OF the logs would weirdly sound
Joe, my pard, seemed duh and silent,
Smoked his cob and blinked his eyes,
Only moved to stretch his foot and
Make the flames the higher rise.
Guess you've been that way, old fellow,
P'raps not in the logging camp,
Still the feeling will creep on You
As you watch the flames decamp
Up the city's smoky chimney
When you're snugly fixed at homa
Loggers' camp or stately mansion,
BY the fire thoughts will roam,
SO / left my pard to ponder
What's the use TO break the spell
When a chaps a sitting pumping
Soothing draughts from memory's well'
Joe and l were timber cruisers
Out in Minnesota there,
Met haphazard, struck acquaintance,
Seemed TO fit each fair and square.
oO We w wv hibh 49,
Joe's a jewel, says I am;
Anyway we stuck together
Tight as shells of any clam.
Well, l fixed the blankets ready,
Rugged thu tent up for the night,
Banked the fire, knocked my pipe out,
'Joe," said l, Il guess alrs right;
Time for us to turn in now, pard,
Reckon you've nigh done your smoke"
Then he started, stretched himself once,
Gave the logs another poke.
awaiting for the parson, are your
Said he in an absent way.
tween ourselves, sir, Joe was parson.
Every night he used to pray,
Made that contract when we partnered.
'Pard," said he, ave got a whim
That my dear old mother taught me;
Said she: Pray each night to Him.
And l do it; guess you'll think me
just q sanctimonious fool,
All l ask is don't disturb me
And I'll carry out my rule"
was hit hard, though u rough one.
'Joe," said ], your hand, my lad,
II youth Away be the parson
will Join you mighty glad"
"That's a bargain" said he, shake, pard.'
And that very night we knelt.
Joe, he prayed, and as for me, sir,
Down my cheeks the tears would pelt.
Sunday. school and ~boyhood's home days
Proved too much for my old eyes,
First time ! knelt down with Joe, sir,
Meath the forests starlit skies.
"Yes, all's ready for the parson,
Pull yourself together, Joe.
What's a troubling you tonight, pard,
Thinking work seems mighty slowFh
Then he looked up. "Pard, just sit down.
Said he, were you ever hit
Rather hard by some one womanf"
WAS II just q leetle bit,
First by one and then another"
Said !, with a quiet laugh;
"But so far I've seemed to jog on
Minus any better half"
"Well," said Joe, Eve been a thinking,
Staring in the fire tonight,
Till my heart has caught the red heat
That's a blazing there so bright;
More l stared the palmer came there
Something that brought home to me
Counting days--I once was hit, pard.
Now you know what's troubling me-"
"Brace up, Joe" said I, quite CHEEKY,
Put your pipe out, come to bed,
Sleep, maybe, will kind of help you
Drive the thoughts out of your head.
Did she leave you for anotherl
Women folk, they have no mind,
Then forget"-'Say! stop right there, pare
Don't you say a word unkind,
Or, by heaven there'll be a quarrel!'
Leaping to his feet, he cried.
Down he sat and sobbed: Forget her!
Pard, she loved me, but she died.
Don't you mind me-there, it's over"
And he gave the fire a stir.
Then we turned in, Joe was parson,
But his prayer was most OF her.
N. Y. Herald.