Part 3 (2/2)

She utters no word; but her eyes of blue Are burning, piercing me through and through!

Yet another comes and takes Her place---- I close my eyes lest I see HER face----

For the flush of youth on the girlish brow Is lost in the wanton woman now--

And I was to blame! G.o.d, let me forget!

And I wipe away the beads of sweat

That lie on my brow like blood-red rain---- And I try to pray--but words are vain;--

For I know that the ghosts of my sins are here To mock me at this, the end o' th' Year!

AN ANGEL

Th' angils ain't all up in Heaven.

Not by a long shot. Say, Ther's angils a-livin' an' breathin'

Right here in th' camp to-day.

An' th' crown of one, I kin tell ye Is on'y a tangle of hair, But the halo that lingers around it Is brighter than any up There.

One of her laigs goes a-limpin', Her langwige ain't grammar of books, An' she ain't airned th' t.i.tle ”A Angil”

Along of her beauty of looks; 'Nless y' saw her as I did---- 'Nless y' saw her, like me, Le'p int' h.e.l.l-flame f'r t' rescue Th' baby of drunken Magee.

Magee in th' cellar was hootchin'; Th' gal was a-sloppin' at ch.o.r.es, Was.h.i.+n' bottles an' kegs f'r th' bar-man, Slingin' c.o.c.ktails ahind th' baize-doors.

Of a suddent a wild cry of ”F-i-r-e,” come With a lick o' th' flame, left an' right; The boozers they scooted f'r safety An' th' baby was left in th' fright.

One wild cry above th' fierce cracklin'---- A yell of despair in the din: ”My BABY! O, G.o.d, SEND AN ANGEL!”

He did. And the Angel went in While us men stood a-shakin' an' shame-faced; The manhood in us not quite dead---- We was drunk--dazed with horror an' whisky 'R we'd foller'd th' gal where she led Into that h.e.l.l-gate of red flame---- Int' th' whirl of th' fire; And we all held our bre'th, knowin' well it was death Come a-nigher an' nigher.

But no! What we all saw a-comin'

Was th' Angil of Life:--at her breast That d.a.m.n kid of Magee's snug an' snorin', As if in th' cradle at rest.

But th' gal? Her face out of resemblance T' anythin' human, you'd say, She come staggerin', gaspin' an' blinded---- (Us men turned our faces away); Then, ”Lame Mary!” we busted a-shoutin', Goin' mad f'r a minit with joy; Magee, he was dancin' a hornpipe An' his Missis was huggin' th' Boy.

But the gal as I christen'd ”A Angil”

We was shoutin' her name somethin' wild---- Swings 'roun' on her game foot, Says: ”Shet up, y' galoot, An' don't be f'r wakin' th' child!”

You bet she was game, was th' Angil:---- Tho' she wasn't f'r playin' no harps, Sittin' on a damp cloud a-slingin' th' crowd, A-thumpin' th' flats an' th' sharps;

SHE WAS STRAIGHT ON HER JOB, was th' angil; Wantin' nothin' down here but her share; An' my biler 'ud bust if I thought any ”Trust”

Side-tracked my Angil up--There!

BILLY BIRD'S CELEBRATION

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