one mornin' when I waken I see th' next bed taken
By a feller, as was ravin' like a loon;
Sich a face! All hair an' blotches (th' kind th' fever scotches)----
An' I says, says I: "His Nibs'll ketch you soon!"

If they'd fine-tooth-combed creation f'r my personal elation
To rake in a friend an' leave him lyin' there,
Why, they couldn't a-done better with a Dawson lawyer's letter,
F'r'twas JIM beneath th' blotches an' th' hair!

He was ravin', he was mutterin'; he was swearin', he was stutterin';
Sister Mary trippin' round him like a little drift o' snow,
An' she hovered as a dove might with flutterin' wings of white light,
So softly that you'd wonder did she come or did she go?

One night, I wasn't sleepin'--Sister Mary night watch keepin',
Jim, weak as a babby, lyin' there upon th' bed,
Says: "Sister,--you remind me--of a--Girl--I left behind me"----
She gev' a little shiver, sayin': "HSH! THAT--GIRL IS--DEAD!"

Then I he'erd old Jim a-gaspin'--her han's his han's was claspin',
Callin' "MARY, Oh, God, MARY!" eyes a-bulgin' in his head;
She was lookin' down at him, but she on'y whisper'd "J--im!"
But her face was like the face of some one dead.

The'r han's was locked a minute--ther' wasn't no wrong in it----
They spoke no words, but eyes looked into eyes----
Then, without a word of talkin' she went, like one sleep-walkin',
An' I he'erd Jim groanin' tur'ble 'twixt his sighs.

But nex' mornin' little Sister hikes along with a big blister,
Jest as dinky an' as smilin' as before;
But Jim? he lay there blinkin', I guess HE was a-thinkin'
How them little fingers trimbled takin' down his fever score.

Doc. said old Jim was dyin'. That night I he'erd him sighin',
An' he up an' says: "Say, Pard, when I'm--at rest----
Will you see this--little locket--goes with me--in the pocket
Of the heart that's lyin' broken--in my breast?"

And if you're no doubtin' Thomas you'll believe I kep' that promise;
And the Face inside the locket, HUMAN EYE SHALL NEVER SEE;
P'raps it was, or wasn't Sister, her we called "Saint Mustard Blister,"
When she pumped th' pills an' quinine int' pore old Jim an' me!

TALE OF THE CHE-CHA-KO

Che-cha-ko arrived from London Town
Wearing a sort of superior frown;
Registered, "Bellingham-Bolingbroke-Browyne