mare,
So I rode her to his stable
And I left her standing there.
For I knew that you'd consider
Twas the proper thing to do,
If you came back here and found me
Holding down your claim for you.
But I felt right sorry, Billy,
When I looked around next day,
In the box there in the corner
Where the pans and dishes lay;
For in fixing for my breakfast,
My! the crockery was slim!
More than half of it was busted
By the bullets fired at Jim:

[Illustration: "But, instead, I shot, to scare him,
All the buttons off his coat."]

13

"I forgot to tell you, Billy,
That for thirteen months or more,
You're the only man that's ever
Crossed the threshold of that door.
I have stayed alone and waited,
Full of faith that you would come,
So that I--might go to daddie,
And that you'd--have back your home.
Though perhaps I've sometimes suffered
From the cold and from the heat,
And I've gone for days together,
Here, without a bite to eat,
'Twasn't hunger of the body
That I craved to satisfy,
I was starved for--you--and daddie,
As the weary weeks trailed by.

14

"How I tried to think and reason
Why the fire from one caress
Turned my burning, yearning spirit
To a cinder of distress.
Some one told me, I remember,
Long ago when I was small,
God made every star up yonder,
Everything--the world and all.
Then I thought that in His workshop,
Up there in the heavens above,
He had made that curious hunger
Of the heart that we call love.
P'r'aps my troubles and the waiting
Stirred me to this queer-like whim;
But I couldn't help it, Billy,
I just had to talk to Him.

15

"In the night, when God wa'n't busy
And could hear the slightest sound,
I would venture from my hiding
To the top of North Pole Mound.
I was sure He'd never let His
Angels come out this-a-way,
But would use the wind to carry,
Prayers out here, that people pray.
So I'd hold my hands, and stopping
Gusts that tried to struggle free,
Tell them this here simple message
They must take to you from me:
'Please, dear God, won't you tell Billy
That I'm holding down his claim?
He don't come 'cause he's in trouble.
Thank you, God. He ain't to blame.'"

16

Long before her honest story
Faltered to its hallowed close,
Pushing back his untouched supper,
Tremblingly her guest arose.
Vain for him to curb emotion,
Or to stammer out his praise
Through a storm of rude devotion,
Cast i