Grand'ther Baldwin's Thanksgiving with Other Ballads and Poems

Horatio Alger

Capitolo 10


"While I race on to Make Brown widow;
  His/her child, from the mines it has it got back only.
I don't believe that he is a cent in his/her purse,
  The young men now alacks are so incapable!

"It was very different when I was young;
  The young men were prudent, and girls were wise;
You would not take them gadding around
  As so a lot of inactive butterflies."

Then it got excited and it scolded the worthy dame,
  Until her the external windowsill had passed,
It happened to do his/her justice, rarely
  What its hands were inactive, or still language was.


Then Phoebe gathered on his/her job to sweater,
  And he/she sat down his in the niche of fireplace;
But his/her mind it was on other intention of thoughts,
  And here and there she allowed to fall a point.

The yellow ago the kitten made the purrs on the hearth,
  While the clock of kitchen, with his/her frame of oak,
In the angle been standing, as a sentinel,
  And it challenged time with his/her measured hit.

But the mind of Phoebe it was not on none of these:
  The bread in the oven, the frown of his/her good aunt,
And the scene in front of her was grown weak,
  And it mixed with thoughts of Reuben Brown:

As they walked together in days in summer,
  Or it bravely faced the cold in the winter,
And he/she happily chatted from the principle at the end
  To the small school-house on Hill of Sligo.

How double they grew more old men and school-day trails,
  When he was a youth and a young girl her;
As she often went with Reuben Brown
  To the rustic dance or the social bee.

The warm throw of water deepened on the cheek of Phoebe,
  And she breathed a minimum mean-aware sigh,;
Ah, well-a-day! they was happy times,
  But he has forgotten, and so it owes me."

Then Phoebe gathered on his/her job to sweater,
  What, while she was thinking, you/he/she was fallen down,
When his/her ear rapid takings a strange noise of feet,
  And there in the street of access it sustained Reuben Brown,

With the same immunity, the beautiful face what she has known,
  A smile as diamond and an eye as black--
"Phoebe", he said, "I have wandered far;
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