The sweetest little thing she was, with rosy cheeks, and fat—­
We was little chunks o’ shavers then about as high as that! 
But someway we sort o’ suited-like! and Mother she’d declare
She never laid her eyes on a more lovin’ pair

Than we was!  So we growed up side by side fer thirteen year’,
And every hour of it she growed to me more dear!—­
W’y, even Father’s dyin’, as he did, I do believe
Warn’t more affectin’ to me than it was to see her grieve!

I was then a lad o’ twenty; and I felt a flash o’ pride
In thinkin’ all depended on me now to pervide
Fer Mother and fer Mary; and I went about the place
With sleeves rolled up—­and workin’, with a mighty smilin’ face.—­

Fer sompin’ else was workin’! but not a word I said
Of a certain sort o’ notion that was runnin’ through my head,—­
“Someday I’d mayby marry, and a brother’s love was one
Thing—­a lover’s was another!” was the way the notion run!

I remember onc’t in harvest, when the “cradle-in’” was done—­
When the harvest of my summers mounted up to twenty-one
I was ridin’ home with Mary at the closin’ o’ the day—­
A-chawin’ straws and thinkin’, in a lover’s lazy way!

And Mary’s cheeks was burnin’ like the sunset down the lane: 
I noticed she was thinkin’, too, and ast her to explain. 
Well—­when she turned and kissed me, with her arms around me—­law!
I’d a bigger load o’ heaven than I had a load o’ straw!

I don’t p’tend to learnin’, but I’ll tell you what’s a fact,
They’s a mighty truthful sayin’ somers in a’ almanack—­
Er somers—­’bout “puore happiness”—­perhaps some folks’ll laugh
At the idy—­“only lastin’ jest two seconds and a half.”—­

But it’s jest as true as preachin’!—­fer that was a sister’s kiss, And a sister’s lovin’ confidence a-tellin’ to me this:—­ “She was happy, bein’ promised to the son o’ farmer Brown.”—­ And my feelin’s struck a pardnership with sunset and went down!

I don’t know how I acted—­I don’t know what I said,
Fer my heart seemed jest a-turnin’ to an ice-cold lump o’ lead;
And the hosses kindo’ glimmered before me in the road. 
And the lines fell from my fingers—­and that was all I knowed—­

Fer—­well, I don’t know how long—­They’s a dim rememberence
Of a sound o’ snortin’ hosses, and a stake-and-ridered fence
A-whizzin’ past, and wheat-sheaves a-dancin’ in the air,
And Mary screamin’ “Murder!” and a-runnin’ up to where

[Illustration:  (RIDIN’ HOME WITH MARY)]

I was layin’ by the roadside, and the wagon upside down A-leanin’ on the gate-post, with the wheels a whirlin’ round!  And I tried to raise and meet her, but I couldn’t, with a vague Sorto’ notion comin’ to me that I had a broken leg.

Well, the women nussed me through it; but many a time I’d sigh
As I’d keep a-gittin’ better instid o’ goin’ to die,
And wonder what was left me worth livin’ fer below,
When the girl I loved was married to another, don’t you know!