Page:Jim of the Hills.djvu/30

 Well he knows he's safe for sharin' while I've got a bite an' sup. When I'm fit, he's full of frolic, laughin' like a silly pup Out for fun. But when I'm feelin' sad at night, he just comes stealin' To the fire an' stretches out there with his brown eyes lookin' up, Lit with such a queer soft sadness that I feel it isn't fair My own private little worries spoils the evenin' for the pair.

Here, to-night, I've sat an' told him—while his tail flopped on the floor— Of particular conditions that have got me feelin' sore. An' my present little worry is the matter of Ben Murray An' his sudden-like attentions to the widow at the store. I ain't nothin' to the widow, as Ben Murray ought to see; But I hear he's talked fight lately, with some reference to me.

I ain't nothin' to the widow—not as yet, at any rate; Tho' a bloke can't be dead certain what is like to be his fate. But I own that I've been thinkin', an' there ain't no use in blinkin' At the fact a man must settle down before it gets too late. I ain't nothin' to the widow—don't know that I ever will. Seems to me it's awful reckless takin' lifelong chances—still …

Me an' my old dog's been talkin' quite a lot—of love an' things: Weighin' matters; an' we reckon this here love is full of stings,