The Cornflower, and Other Poems. Jean Blewett

with me. Oh, she is a talker

      Worth the listening to. The threshing was over,

      Joe had got ten dollars a ton for the clover,

      Deacon Hope had had a sharp tiff with the preacher

      Over immersion, and the pretty school-teacher

      Intended to marry – resigned her position.

      Yes, most of the church folks had signed the petition

      Against granting a license to Baker's saloon,

      The Thanksgiving service would be coming on soon,

      The neighbors were hearty, had every one missed me —

      Right here Molly stood on her tip-toes and kissed me.

      Sho! Sam's wife is handsome and cultured and clever,

      But she's not the woman that Molly is – never.

      Molly's smile is so kind, and her hair is so glossy,

      Her brown eyes look at you so sweet and so saucy!

      Yes, Joe's richer than Sam, though Joe's but a farmer,

      For his home atmosphere is brighter and warmer.

      Sam has lots of money, there's no use denying;

      Has made himself wealthy, and that without trying;

      But what chance has a man – indeed, I'm not joking —

      Who lives with a woman who sniffs when he's smoking!

      JACK

      Jack's dead an' buried; it seems odd,

      A deep hole covered up with sod

      Lyin' out there on the hill,

      An' Jack, as never could keep still,

      A sleepin' in it. Jack could race,

      And do it at a good old pace,

      Could sing a song, an' laugh so hard

      That I could hear him in our yard

      When he was half a mile away.

      Why, not another boy could play

      Like him, or run, or jump so high,

      Or swim, no matter how he'd try;

      An' I can't get it through my head

      At all, at all, that Jack is dead.

      Jack's mother didn't use to be

      So awful good to him and me,

      For often when I'd go down there

      On Saturdays, when it was fair,

      To get him out to fish or skate,

      She'd catch me hangin' round the gate

      And look as cross as some old hen,

      An' tell me, "Go off home again.

      It's not the thing for boys," she'd say,

      "A hangin' round the creek all day;

      You go off home and do your task —

      No, Jack can't go, you needn't ask."

      And when he got in scrapes, why, she

      Would up and lay it on to me,

      An' wish I lived so far away

      Jack couldn't see me every day.

      But last night when I'd done the chores

      It seemed so queer-like out of doors,

      I kept a listenin' all the while,

      An' looking down the street a mile;

      I couldn't bear to go inside,

      The house is lonesome since he died.

      The robber book we read by turns

      Is lyin' there – an' no boy learns

      All by himself, 'cause he can't tell

      How many words he'll miss or spell,

      Unless there's some one lookin' on

      To laugh at him when he gets done.

      An' neighbor women's sure to come

      A visitin' a feller's home,

      An' talkin', when they look at me,

      'Bout how thick us two used to be,

      A stealin' off from school, an' such,

      An' askin' do I miss him much,

      'Till I sneak off out doors – you see,

      They just can't let a feller be!

      Well, I walked down the road a bit.

      Smith's dog came out. I throwed at it,

      An', do you know, it never howled

      Same as it always did, or growled;

      It seemed to say, "Why, Jim's alone!

      I wonder where's that other one?"

      Afore I knew it I was down

      'Way at the other end of town,

      A hangin' round in the old way

      For someone to come out and play.

      There wasn't no one there to look,

      So I slipped into our old nook.

      I found his knife down in the grass

      Where we'd been Zulus at the pass.

      The can of bait, the hook and line

      Were lyin' with the ball of twine,

      An' "Jim," I seemed to hear him say,

      "The fish will suffer some to-day."

      'Twas more than I could stand just then;

      I got up to go off home, when

      Someone kissed me on the cheek,

      An' hugged me so I couldn't speak.

      You wouldn't believe it, like as not,

      But 'twas Jack's mother, an' a lot

      Of great big tears came stealin' down

      Right on my face. She didn't frown

      A single bit – kept sayin' low,

      "My blue-eyed boy, I loved you so!"

      Of course, I knew just right away

      That she meant Jack. My eyes are gray,

      But Jack, he had the bluest eyes,

      Blue like you see up in the skies,

      An' shine that used to come and go —

      One misses eyes like his, you know.

      An' by-an'-by she up an' tried

      To tell me that she'd cried an' cried

      A thinkin' of the times that she

      Had scolded Jack an' scolded me,

      An' other things that I won't tell

      To anyone, because – Oh, well,

      Boys can't do much, but they can hold

      Tight on to secrets till they're old.

      She's Jack's relation, that's why she

      Feels kind of lovin' like to me.

      But when she called me her own lad,

      Oh, say, I felt just awful bad;

      My head it went round in a whirl —

      I up an' cried just like a girl.

      But say, if Jack could see us two

      He'd laugh a little, don't you know;

      For if I'd ever brag around

      That I'd lick some one safe an' sound,

      He'd laugh an'