Page:Jim of the Hills.djvu/70

"You'll walk," she says, "a short way back,
So you can put me on the track?"
"I'll take you all the way," says I,
An' looks her fair bang in the eye.

Later, I let myself right out,
An' talked; an' told her all about
The things I've done, an' what I do.
An' nearly all I'm hopin' to.
Told why I chose the game I'm at
Because my folks were poor, an' that.
She seemed reel pleased to hear me talk.
An' sort of steadied up the walk.

An' when I'd spoke my little bit,
She just takes up the thread of it;
An' later on, near knocks me down
By tellin' me she works—in town.
Works? Her? I thought, the way she dressed,
She was quite rich; but she confessed
That makin' dresses was her game.
An' she was dead sick of the same.
 
When Good bye came, I lifts my hat;
But she holds out her hand at that.
I looked at mine, all stained with sap.
An' told her I'm a reel rough chap.