th my luck to guide me right.
When I'd see the hungry morning
Eat the stars up in the East,
I would hide in gulch or timber
Like a wild and hunted beast.
How I learned to love the darkness
As it spread its mighty arm,
Close around me, like a lover,
Fondly shielding me from harm!
And I knew the sweet caresses
Of the earth and sky above,
As the night's mysterious voices
Soothed me with their tale of love.

4

"Then I'd ride like forty devils
Just to catch upon my face
All the kisses which the tempest
Pressed upon me in the race.
How I thought of poor old daddie,
Whom, perhaps, I'd see no more
If I went clear back to your place,
While he hurried on before!
I could hardly bear the burden
When I'd think of--both of you;
But that fire you set a-burning,
One night told me what to do--
I would see and ask you, Billy,
If you wouldn't go with me
Where we both could be with daddie,
Way out West, where he must be.

5

"Then at last the night that loved me,
Turned its pent-up furies loose,
Roaring out on me its anger
And unpitying abuse.
How the rain beat down upon me!
How the lightning burned its track
Through the clouds of storm and thunder
As I reached your sod-walled shack!
All was dark within, and quiet,
When I rapped upon the door.
Then I saw the flash of matches
And the lamplight on the floor;
Heard you stomp your heavy boots on,
Heard you walk and draw the bar,
But the door, when thrown wide open,
Showed Jim Johnson standing thar.

6

"'What you doing here?' I shouted,
When I saw his hateful leer;
'Tell me what this means, Jim Johnson.
Where is Billy? Ain't he here?'
He was standing on the doorstep,
And the light that shone within
Seemed to twist his wrinkled features
In a sort of wonder-grin.
'Well! well! Nancy! sure's I'm livin'!
Out there in the pouring wet!
Sure I'll care for you, Miss Nancy,
I'll protect you, don't you fret!
I'm a friend that you can count on,
Does me good to see your face!
Come in, gal, and dry your garments,
You have struck the very place!'

7

"You don't blame me, do you, Billy,
If I did go in and stay,
Warming by your stove and fire,
Just to hear what he would say?
I will try to tell his story
As he told it, if I can,
Putting in what I remember
Of his 'interesting plan.'
'Now, then, gal, I heard you calling
As you stood there in the dark,
On a fellow, named Bill Truly,
But y