Last I kindo' soothed him, so's He could talk.--And what you s'pose Them-air revelations of Poke's was? . . . He'd ben writin' love- Letters to Melviney, and Givin her to understand They was from "a young man who Loved her," and--"the violet's blue 'N sugar's sweet"--and Lord knows what! Tel, 'peared-like, Melviney got S' interested in "the young Man," Poke _he_ says, 'at she brung A' answer onc't fer him to take, Statin' "she'd die fer his sake," And writ fifty xs "fer Love-kisses fer him from her!" I was standin' in the road By the buggy, all I knowed When Poke got that fer.--"That's why," Poke says, "I 'fessed up the lie-- _Had_ to--'cause I see," says he, "'Viney was in airnest--she Cried, too, when I told her.--Then She swore me, and smiled again, And got Pap and Mother to Let me hitch and drive her thue Into Chinkypin, to be At Aunt 'Rindy's Chris'mas-tree-- That's to-night." Says I, "Poke--durn Your lyin' soul!--'s that beau o' hern-- That--_she_--loves--Does _he_ live in That hellhole o' Chinkypin?" "No," says Poke, "er 'Viney would Went some _other_ neighborhood." "Who _is_ the blame whelp?" says I. "Promised 'Viney, hope I'd die Ef I ever told!" says Poke, Pittiful and jes heart-broke-- "'Sides that's why she left the place,-- 'She caint look him in the face Now no more on earth!' she says.--" And the child broke down and jes Sobbed! Says I, "Poke, I p'tend T' be _your_ friend, and your _Pap's_ friend, And your _Mother's_ friend, and all The _boys_' friend, little, large and small-- The _whole fambily's_ friend--and you Know that means _Melviney_, too.-- Now--you hush yer troublin!'--I'm Go' to he'p friends ever' time-- On'y in _this_ case, _you_ got To he'p _me_--and, like as not I kin he'p Melviney then, And we'll have her home again. And now, Poke, with your consent, I'm go' go to that-air gent She's in love with, and confer With _him_ on his views o' _her_.-- Blast him! give the man _some_ show.-- Who is he?--_I'm go' to know_!" Somepin' struck the little chap Funny, 'peared-like.--Give a slap On his leg--laughed thue the dew In his eyes, and says: "It's you!" Yes, and--'cordin' to the last Love-letters of ours 'at passed Thue his hands--we was to be Married Chris'mas.--"Gee-mun-_nee_! Poke," says I, "it's _suddent_--yit We _kin_ make it! You're to git Up tomorry, say, 'bout _three_-- Tell your folks you're go' with me:-- We'll hitch up, and jes drive in 'N take the town o' Chinkypin!" GO, WINTER! Go, Winter! Go thy ways! We want again The twitter of the bluebird and the wren; Leaves ever greener growing, and the shine Of Summer's sun--not thine.-- Thy sun, which mocks our need of warmth and love And all the heartening fervencies thereof, It scarce hath heat enow to warm our thin Pathetic yearnings in.