God makes sech nights, all white an' still
Fur 'z you can look or listen,
Moonshine an' snow on field an' hill,
All silence an' all glisten.
Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown 5
An' peeked in thru' the winder,
An' there sot Huldy all alone,
With no one nigh to hender.
A fireplace filled the room's one side
With half a cord o' wood in,-- 10
There warn't no stoves till comfort died,
To bake ye to a puddin'.
The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out
Toward the pootiest, bless her!
An' leetle flames danced all about 15
The chiny on the dresser.
Agin the chimbley crook-necks hung,
An' in amongst 'em rusted
The ole queen's-arm thet gran'ther Young
Fetched back from Concord busted. 20
The very room, coz she was in,
Seemed warm from floor to ceilin',
An' she looked full ez rosy agin
Ez the apples she was peelin'.
'Twas kin' o' kingdom-come to look 25
On sech a blessed cretur,
A dogrose blushin' to a brook
Ain't modester nor sweeter.
He was six foot o' man, A 1,
Clearn grit an' human natur'; 30
None couldn't quicker pitch a ton
Nor dror a furrer straighter.
He'd sparked it with full twenty gals,
Hed squired 'em, danced 'em, druv 'em,
Fust this one, an' then thet, by spells,-- 35
All is, he couldn't love 'em.
But long o' her his veins 'ould run
All crinkly like curled maple,
The side she breshed felt full o' sun
Ez a south slope in Ap'il. 40
She thought no v'ice hed sech a swing
Ez hisn in the choir;
My! when he made Ole Hunderd ring,
She _knowed_ the Lord was nigher.
An' she'd blush scarlit, right in prayer, 45
When her new meetin'-bunnet
Felt somehow thru' its crown a pair
O' blue eyes sot upon it.
Thet night, I tell ye, she looked _some_!
She seemed to 've gut a new soul, 50
For she felt sartin-sure he'd come.
Down to her very shoe-sole.
She heered a foot, an' knowed it tu,
A-raspin' on the scraper,--
All ways to once her feelins flew 55
Like sparks in burnt-up paper.
He kin'o' l'itered on the mat,
Some doubtfle o' the sekle,
His heart kep' goin' pity-pat,
But hern went pity Zekle. 60
An' yit she gin her cheer a jerk
Ez though she wished him furder,
An' on her apples kep' to work,
Parin' away like murder.
"You want to see my Pa, I s'pose?" 65
"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, would be presumin'; 70
Mebby to mean _yes_ an' say _no_
Comes nateral 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 75
He could n't ha' told ye nuther.
Says he, "I'd better call agin;"
Says she, "Think likely, Mister:"
That last word pricked him like a pin,
An' ... Wal, he up an' kist her. 80
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 jist the quiet kind 85
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', 90
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 95
In meetin' come nex' Sunday.