"
Then I told her all about you--
How I bringed you up,--poor Joe!
(Lackin' women-folks to do it)
Sich a imp you was, you know--
Till yer got that awful tumble,
Jist as I had broke yer in
(Hard work, too), to earn yer livin'
Blackin' boots for honest tin.
How that tumble crippled of you--
So's you couldn't hyper much--
Joe, it hurted when I see you
For the first time with your crutch.
"But," I says, "he's laid up now, mum,
'Pears to weaken every day."
Joe, she up and went to cuttin'--
That's the how of this bokay.
Say! it seems to me, ole feller,
You is quite yourself to-night;
Kind o' chirk, it's been a fortnight
Sence your eyes have been so bright.
Better! well, I'm glad to hear it!
Yes, they're mighty pretty, Joe,
Smellin' of them's made you happy?
Well, I thought it would, you know.
Never see the country did you?
Flowers growin' everywhere!
Sometime when you're better, Joey,
Mebbe I kin take you there.
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