FullReads

Perhaps, on the whole, it is better,
For you might have been changed like the rest;
Though it’s strange that I’m trusting this letter
To papa, just to have it addressed.
He thinks he may find you, and really
Seems kinder now I’m all alone.
You might have been here, Joe, if merely
To LOOK what I’m willing to OWN.

Well, well! that’s all past; so good-night, Joe;
Good-night to the river and Flat;
Good-night to what’s wrong and what’s right, Joe;
Good-night to the past, and all that–
To Harrison’s barn, and its dancers;
To the moon, and the white peak of snow;
And good-night to the canyon that answers
My “Joe!” with its echo of “No!”

P. S.

I’ve just got your note. You deceiver!
How dared you–how COULD you? Oh, Joe!
To think I’ve been kept a believer
In things that were six months ago!
And it’s YOU’VE built this house, and the bank, too,
And the mills, and the stores, and all that!
And for everything changed I must thank YOU,
Who have “struck it” on Poverty Flat!

How dared you get rich–you great stupid!–
Like papa, and some men that I know,
Instead of just trusting to Cupid
And to me for your money? Ah, Joe!
Just to think you sent never a word, dear,
Till you wrote to papa for consent!
Now I know why they had me transferred here,
And “the health of papa”–what THAT meant!

Now I know why they call this “The Lily;”
Why the man who shot Sandy McGee
You made mayor! ‘Twas because–oh, you silly!–
He once “went down the middle” with me!
I’ve been fooled to the top of my bent here,
So come, and ask pardon–you know
That you’ve still got to get MY consent, dear!
And just think what that echo said–Joe!