The morning Astorian. [volume] (Astoria, Oregon) 1899-1930, 1905-08-15

mHlion times obleeged. but next time
you come along l shall hope TO prove
my gratitude"
At the blacksmith shop, two miles
below, I had to stop to get loose shoe
fastened. and ! was sorting over my
letters when l looked up and saw that
the smith had tears In his eyes.
asked him II he was In pain. and told
him that always carried bottle Of
relief, but he made no answer until he
had fixed the shoe. Then be sat down
beside me and said:
"Abe. that letter you handed my wife
the other day was from her mother In
Illinois and 1t contained bad news"
Nobody dead, l hope"
"Yes-her sister Sally. She died OF
the kick Of COW. There isn't hu-
man beln' In the state Of Illinois who
can write poetry, and Martha asked me
II wouldn't ask you to get OF some
thing. Wen send copy out west, and
1t viii cheer US all amazingly"
"Will II do next time I come slongi"
I'm afraid not, Abe. Martha does
nothing but walk around and weep,
and II you put 1t OF another day she
may drown herself In the cistern. You
write me something. and I'll look over
the other shoes and see that they are
oil right"
/ had TO use piece Of paper -four
sack and the stub Of pencil, but my
muse frolicked around and enabled me
to invent the following:
In certain western state. where the
beef trust makes the rate.
There did dwell maiden aged twenty
years.
Her name was Sally Tripper. and to milk
she was q ripper.
And It's on account Of that we're she'd
ding tears
When the sun II was a-sinking, and the
chickens were a-blinklng.
And the whippoorwill was raising OF a
row,
Then Sally Of the dairy, with smile just
IKE fairy.
Would so out to do the milking OF the
COW.
Upon this one occasion, and without the
least persuasion,
And while upon stool the girl re-
clined-
Yea while her tender fingers yet upon
the udder fingers
That devil OF q COW kicked out behind.
Poor Sally went a-sprawiins and for her
sister calling.
And shortly she was carried OF to bed
But the doctors coon announced In tones
the most pronounced
That ere the sun had risen she'd be
dead
o maiden young and fair, with life so
free from care,
Be careful when a-milking you do go!
Keep 1t ever on your mind that the COW
may kick behind
When the golden sun il sinking in his
glow.
The blacksmith is a strong, rugged
fellow, and / did not look for sentl-
ment IL his composition. Great was
my surprise, therefore, to see him
burst into tears after reading the poem
over TO himself and to have him take
me by the hand and exclaIm In a
broken voice:
ABE, 1t is the sweetest thing ever
written in all this world. Ii will make
my wife faint away when she reads 1t,
but as soon as she comes to she will
begin to feel better and soon shake
OF her sadness. By thunder, but I'd
give a million dollars II had II II l
could touch the human heart like you
can. Your horse can cast every shoe
and your cart break down every other
day, but all repairs will be made at
this shop free gratis"
A day or two later learned that his
wife did faint away upon reading the
poem and remained In q swoon for
eighteen hours, but came out Of 1t at
last to ask for fried pork and potatoes
boiled with their jackets on, and after
a hearty meal began to live again.
There was only one more call on my
muse that day. The Widow splcer,
whose husband died nine years ago,
suddenly remembered the fact as l |
stopped to hand out her mall, and to
comfort and console her invented the
following:
Nine years ago the clammy hand
Reached out and seized my Harry,
And hauled him up to dwell above,
And left me free to marry.
But am still widow and
Am for my loved one grieving,
And that I'll never wed again
I'll keep on still believing.
Sleep Harry; sleep and worry not
Your Martha can't forget you,
And, should she change her mind and |
wed,
She'll cease not TO regret you.
The widow was comforted, the poetry
worth preserving to posterity was add
ed to, and l drove on, feeling that my
day had not been lived in vain.
NJ. QUAD.
Not Necessarily.
Are there really amazona In Az