y,
But rather seemed content.
We sat upon the mossy bank,
Her eyes began to fill;
The brook was rippling at our feet,
The dove was cooing still.

'Tis strong arms were thrown around her.
"I'll save you or I'll die."
I clasped her to my bosom,
My long lost Hazel Eye.
The rapture of that moment
Was almost heaven to me;
I kissed her 'mid the tear-drops,
Her merriment and glee.

Her heart near mine was beating
When sobbingly she said,
"My dear, my brave preserver,
They told me you were dead.
But oh, those parting words, Joe,
Have never left my mind,
You said, 'We'll meet again, Mag,'
Then rode off like the wind.

"And oh, how I have prayed, Joe,
For you who saved my life,
That God would send an angel
To guide you through all strife.
The one who claimed me from you,
My Uncle, good and true,
Is sick in yonder cabin;
Has talked so much of you.

"'If Joe were living darling,'
He said to me last night,
'He would care for you, Maggie,
When God puts out my light.'"
We found the old man sleeping.
"Hush, Maggie, let him rest."
The sun was slowly setting
In the far-off, glowing West.

And though we talked in whispers
He opened wide his eyes:
"A dream, a dream," he murmured;
"Alas, a dream of lies."
She drifted like a shadow
To where the old man lay.
"You had a dream, dear Uncle,
Another dream to-day?"

"Oh yes, I saw an angel
As pure as mountain snow,
And near her at my bedside
Stood California Joe."
"I'm sure I'm not an angel,
Dear Uncle, that you know;
These hands that hold your hand, too,
My face is not like snow.

"Now listen while I tell you,
For I have news to cheer;
Hazel Eye is happy,
For Joe is truly here."
It was but a few days after
The old man said to me,
"Joe, boy, she is an angel,
And good as angels be.

"For three long months she hunted,
And trapped and nursed me too;
God bless you, boy, I believe it,
She's safe along with you."
The sun was slowly sinking,
When Maggie, my wife, and I
Went riding through the valley,
The tear-drops in her eye.

"One year ago to-day, Joe,
I saw the mossy grave;
We laid him neath the daisies,
My Uncle, good and brave."
And comrade, every springtime
Is sure to find me there;
There is something in the valley
That is always fresh and fair.

Our love is always kindled
While sitting by th