The Mt. Sterling advocate. (Mt. Sterling, Ky.) 1890-current, 1892-11-22
THE ADVOCATE.
SARA.


TO see an old timer like me
A-wcaiin' chain an u locket
Round his throat like vine round a tree.
Ohyes, kin tell yer the story.
couldn't a-told it afore,
but ter tell it all over tonight, pard,
Seems somehow ter open q door.
It's ther door tibet leads back ter the fifties,
Way back ter the gold-nndin days
When settled out yere from Missouri,
Alive with the gold fever craze.
Who'd promised, when I'd struck the spot,
Shed come TO me thar an get married,
An help me enjoy what I'D got
l rustled, fer had purpose
To build me home fer the gall
never forgot her minnie,
An she writ ter me like pal.
An one day. well, don't rememberS
The sky never seemed quite so bright
She came ter our camp like a sunbeam
The shadows he'd driven ter fight.
We were spliced tibet same evening ut sunset,
Out under tibet cottonwood tree,
An the boys all allowed when twas over
Thet they were as happy as we.
An we never he'd a sad moment
Our life was wild one an free.
An many mile on the prairie
We've ridden, my Sara and me.
One day we'd gone false of our reck'nin,
Fer Sara he'd seen wey OF thar
A patch o some wild prairie flower,
Tibet looked like great crimson star.
She rode in Their lead, an Their pictur'
She made can never forget
Her curly locks dancin' an shinin'
And black as the blacklist of jet
Icantered along kind o easy.
When out of the stiffness there came
The pink of an agency rifle,
An my horse--well, he gave up the game
lie was down, an l he'd ter go with him.
4 opined twas a fight ter the end,
Fer 'ithout lookin' back, knowed Injuns
War hidin' down thar in the bend.
l moseyed behind tibet dead horse, pard,
An waited fer them ter come out.
An purity soon three wild red devils
Came tearIn' my way way with shout.
picked or the first in minute,
While their shots went wide; as he fell
fired ag'in. an my bnllet
Sent another red devil to hell
Tibet left only one in the scrimmage--
The wickedest one in the lot;
His eyes burnln' red like fire,
His shooter just aimed for shot.
l knowed then twas fight to the death, pard,
But the thought of thet Sara o mine
jest gave me the rage o a demon,
A feelin' tibet don't come from wine.
| lifted my gun to take aim, when
He shot; my arm fell at my side:
! knowed then my minutes war numbered,
But my only thought war fer my bride.
l shut my eyes tight, an prayed, pard,
An prayed as | couldn't to-day;
Twas sential then, fer my Sara,
An sOmethin' jest taught me ter pray.
The hoofbeats came closer an closer,
They rushed along on the plain;
His yels they grew near-the next minute
His Ratchet would crash through my brain.
rose to my feet vowing dearly
My life would sell, as must
When two rine.shots rang out clearly
AM the last Injun fell dead in the dnst.
Twas my little wife thet he'd shot him.
Her horse gallOped ridcrless past
An not far away lay the gal. pard,
Her still smokin' weapon held fast.
I,spokc to her called her to answer;
raised up her dear little head;
felt fer her heart it waID't goin'--
The poor little missus was dead.
We buried her under thct pine tree
1t shelters her grave night an day
An often | wish as | see it
hadn't forgot how to pray.
4 Cause I'd pray that the good Lord above us
\ Would make such man out o me
Tibet ! wOulG be worthy the woman
Who gave her young life up for me.
An thet's why I'm wcarin the locket,
Twas a trinket she USED ter wear,
An twill be right yerc, pard, till cash in.
An perhaps when we meet over there.
GEO. d. SUTTON, in y. Y. Herald