Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-01-07

lLA H. q OLAISa C[A1GI t9 LOO
 
 You may talk Of the tulip and pink; You may cull me the choicest and rarest of blooms, But shall continue to think That nothing on earth can compare with my Jane. Oh. would that now stood beside her i To show to the world the tu.mul-tu-ous love I've got for the widder named Snyder!
 Uncle Josh had sat beside me at the kitchen table as I wrote, sometimes trying to read a line without his glasses and again gazing into vacancy and uttering long sighs. When I had finished read the poem to him and asked how he liked it.
 'Abe," he replied as he brought his fist down on the table, "the Widder Snyder is mine from this hour. There hain't no widder on earth who kin stand up ag'in sich poetry as that It'll wobble her from head to heel, and all I've got to do is to foller it up by ask in her to have me. By thunder, Abe, but I'll put them verses ag'in any mans million dollars and win out If I'd sot down and tried for million years couldn't have done half so we'll"
 Were your hair and whiskers dyed when you called at the widow's?' I asked as he followed me out to the gate.
 s'No, Abe, and I'm leetle bothered about that She'll see in mint that there has been change, and mebhe I e1,o ,otrI ocpy nIo1 1rr+ to think Pm vain, you know, but what can tell her?"
 That you were struck by lightning. 1t always turns white hair black. TelI ! her that a thunderbolt knocked you down while you were splitting rails"
 "IIl do 1t, Abe. It did thunder the other day, and she must have heard it. Yes, I was knocked over by blamed big thunderbolt, but all the harm 1t did was to turn my hair and whiskers black and set me back to thirty five years old There ain't no flies on you, young man."
 Uncle Josh was to copy and send the poem off that afternoon, and he thought he should have an answer in couple of days. He did have one. Two days later he stopped me at the barnyard and beckoned me into the barn. mo- ticed that he was pale and agitated, and I feared that Sarah or Bill might be seriously i'll.
 "I've got an answer from the Widder Snyder" he said as his chin quivered. "Oh, I see! We'll, what is it?'
 For answer he took from his pocket a folded sheet of foolscap and handed it to me- A woman's hand had used a pencil to write: You may tell me of donkeys and asses and Of men who have wheels in their head; You may sing me the song of the old gam
 der goose
 Or the calf who is i'll in his bed; You may tell me of meadows and valleys
 and rills;
 You may talk of the surf on the shore: You may send me car load of roses and
 pinxs
 But I shall still think as the days nee
 away
 And the winds of old winter doth sigh That the fool of man who taketh the
 cake Is the fool who resorts to the dye. 1 ADG, Wudt 0OCS lI ACdAs LICAl- blingly asked Uncle Josh as handed him back the paper.
 Tt means that the Widow Snyder doesn't want to become the Mrs. White,'' replied.
 'tShe turns me down, does shefs
 s.She does"
 "And go back to seventy-two years again, don't l P
 'sI guess you do."
 "And you won't mistake me tor my son again?'
 Mot hardly"
 ''Waal. I'll go and git soft soap and hartshorn and wash off this dye and let the Widder Snyder go to Texas And-and"
 "And whatT' asked.
 @You kin go there too." |