er degree,
Ever gave more loyal service
To a patient, than did he.

9

Poor and meager were the comforts
Of Zach's cave-like prairie home,
Permeated with the odor
Of the fresh-dug virgin loam.
Pungent wreaths of smoke, slow drifting,
Floated lazily above,
To the dried grass of the ceiling
From the cracked and rusty stove.
Willow poles athwart for rafters
Sagged beneath the dirt roof's strain,
And a piece of grease-smeared paper
Formed the only window-pane.
In the center, on the dirt floor
Stood a table-like affair
Fashioned from a wagon end-gate,
Where Zach spread his scanty fare.

10

There for weeks lay Billy, helpless,
Racked with mad'ning fever pains,
As the burning sun of summer
Scorches sere the desert plains.
Then he lay with cold, white features
And the feeble, scarce drawn breath,
As the silent winter prairie
Lies beneath its shroud of death.
Ofttimes when the raging sickness
Sent the hot blood to his brain,
He would point with frantic gesture
To the dingy window pane,
Calling in excited mutterings,
Eyes transfixed in frenzied fright--
"There she is! Now, can't you see her?
See her face there in the light!"

11

Then old Zach would try to soothe him
In his simple-hearted way;
"She won't hurt you," he would tell him,
"I'll go drive her clear away.
I've seen things--now listen, pardner--
Those things happened once to me
Once down there in old Dodge City,
Winding up a three weeks' spree.
What you see is jest a 'lusion,
'Cause you're crazy in your head;
When your thinker's runnin' proper
You'll find 'She' is gone or dead.
There, now, pardner, see what this is!
Ain't it purty? Your tin cup;
Found a little pinch o' coffee.
That's the boy, now, drink it up!"

12

When the breeze of spring in whispers
Stirred the withered bunch-grass plume,
Humming hymns of resurrection
Over nature's silent tomb,
And the fleeing clouds of heaven,
Bending low at God's command,
Spilled their tribute from the ocean
On the long-forsaken land,
And the sun, with mellow kindness
Spread abroad his softened rays,
Calling bud and blade and blossom
From their sleep of many days,
Billy heard, at last, the music
Of the glad earth's jubilee,
Felt a new strength stir within him,
And a longing to be free.

13

One day, o'er the hill's low summit,
Whence the prairie dipped away,
There appeared a moving wagon
With its canvas pa