Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1894-10-03
A SWAMP POET.

1.-THE Shelley OF MuSkrat swamp lay
dying in his bunk. The,s was no doubt
about that whatever to any ordinary dis
passionate observer. But the one observer,
the sole critic Of the moribund poet, was
not dispassionate, and he refrained from
obtruding the fact upon the notice OF the
sick youth. Outside the wind roared
through the bush. The churned waters OF
the angry Ottawa beat against the wood
en- piers their rough music calling upon
the youthful Shelley to depart through the
valley OF the shadow, although he knew
1t not.
Amid the bowling Of the wind, the
hoarse roar of the food, the crackle OF the
logs upon the hearth, came the soft silvery
tones Of the invalid reciting moving
composition which had occupied his atten-
ton for the last 10 hours-that is, when
he was not otherwise occupied in splitting
blood or coughing. The one oil lamp on
wooden stool by his bunk gave out
smoky light, through which the boys eyes
shone with unearthly brilliancy. Jake
Timber Jake, as he was popularity known
among the gentlemen whom he distin-
guished by his jovial preference-sat on
the only other stool which the log hut
boosted.
Now and then he threw in different
suggestions as to the originality Of the
poets natural history, suggestions which
the latter received with petulent impa-
tience.- Though these contributions to the
literature Of his native land were invari-
ably rejected, Timber Jake continued to
listen to the poem with labored cordiality.
At intervals, when he was evidently ex-
pected to applaud, he did SO with tin
spoon against a battered old kettle, at the
same time drawing the coverlet over the
wasted arm which held the sheets of MS.
''There!'' said the poet as he finished
"Stop your Internal row for moment
What do you think of that, Jake'"
me not bein n scholard," Jake replied
in slow, simple tones, as he dropped the
spoon on the ground-''me not bein
scholard, you sez to me, ez between man
and man, Jake, old pard, how does it pan
out2' And / seq to you, me not bein
scholard, but CT between man and man:
Bedrock, every darned line of it! Bed
rockv Thar's things there like the singin
of robins in spring; thar's things there
like the little flashes of light when dragon
flies goes across tho sunshine; thars
things there eZ Shakespeare couldn't ha'
done, or-or," he somewhat lamely add
ed, 1.-The Frisco Times, or any of them
mud colored ink singers over the river"
The youths check flushed warmly at
this whole hearted eulogy At the sound
of it he turned momentarily away from
the entrance to the valley of death. Then
he shook his head and fell in tho bunk,
with sigh.
Maybe, Jake" he said, "maybe, but
for all that the burned old editor at Ma
rysville won't print 'em unless they'r
,,i1 ut ,lx ticty flag He spDt hack
the last lot sortcr sarcastic, with his com
pliments to the Shelley Of Muskrat
swamp and he wasn't takin any stock
in poetry or chipmunks just then.
An ominous frown gathered on Timber
Jake's brow.
"Bein q ono boss concern, he nat rally
wouldn't know real high toned poetry
when he had 1t chucked under his nose,
tho napdoodlc eatin slumgullion. You
lowed just now ez you felt sort of chill
when his arnscr came backS"
"A death chill, Jake. Timber rafting
begun it, and that Marysville coon's sort
or finished mo up Yes, I'm goin under
Don't you hear the river calm, callin,
callin-come away"
Jake gazed thoughtfully into the fire,
with puzzled, simple eyes. He was man
who thought slowly, but who always acted
with commendablo promptness when he
had once made up his mind.
Il was over to Hutchinsons today" he
resumed presently, land the doc give me
some stuff for you. I'll fix you up with a
dose, and then you won't want anythin till
the mornin. It's II O'Clock now"
As he spoke he poured some medicine
into an old cracked tea cup and held it to
the sick youth lips. One arr stole gently
round tho boy, he was little moro than a
boy who, with a CLEAN Of mischief in his
great eyes, put up a thin white hand to the
bronzcd checks above him and gave them
caressing rub.
Jake was manifestly discomposed by
this poctical exhibition Of tenderness
"Quit yer foolin," he said huskily, land
drink this yere mixture. tn keep yer
quiet till mornin."
The boy drank with difficulty. "Yes,
Jake, / reckon it'I keep me quiet till
mornin That's about the time the river
leaves off calm"
Jake affected not to hear this pessimis-
tic remark but talked on in wandering
fashion until the boys fair head fell back
upon his arm Then he covered him up
carefully, yelled the light of the lamp with
an old towel and drew revolver from the
shelf.
The wind, Us 1t blew beneath the rude
door of pine slabs, rustled the papers about
the floor. Jake picked them up, bent over
tho boy to make sure that the opiate had
done its work and crept cautiously into
tho darkness.
A low whinny Of delight greeted him
as he entered the narrow shanty which
served for stable. Without striking n
light he saddled his brown mare, led her
into the trail and mounted.
Now, old lady" he said, ''you bet you
have got to hustle"
Tho mare whinnied again and broke
into n long, swinging gallop.
As she sped on through the darkness
Jake sat squarely back in the saddle, the
reins hanging loosely, and only stirring
when splash OF water from the mare
flying hoofs wetted his checks.
After an hours hard galloping his prac-
ticcd eye detected a light in the distance
"Shooi" he said to his mare. Gen
ely, lass, gently. We're Almost thar"
He drew rein on the outskirts of Marys-
vile and tied the mare to pine stump
Then he crept along to the one tumble
down Init In which there was light and