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"You want to see my Pa, I s'pose?" "Wal. . .no. . .I come designin'"— "To see my ma? She's sprinklin' clo'es Agin to-morrer's i'nin'."

To say why gals acts so or so, Or don't 'ould be presumin'; Mebby to mean yes an' say no Comes natural to women.

He stood a spell on one foot fust, Then stood a spell on t' other An' on which one he felt the wust He couldn't ha' told ye nuther.

Says he, "I'd better call agin"; Says she, "Think likely, Mister"; Thet last word pricked him like a pin, An'. . . Wal, he up an' kist her.

When Ma bimeby upon 'em slips, Huldy sot pale ez ashes, All kin' o' smily 'roun the lips An' teary 'roun the lashes.

For she was jes' the quiet kind Whose naturs never vary, Like streams that keep a summer mind Snowhid in Jenooary.

The blood clost roun' her heart felt glued Too tight for all expressin', Tell mother see how metters stood, An' gin 'em both her blessin'.

Then her red come back like the tide Down to the Bay o' Fundy, An' all I know Is they was cried In meetin' come nex' Sundav.