THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET BY JOHN MASEFIELD COMPLIMENTS OF ARCHIVE.ORG PART I Down Bye Street, in a little Shropshire town, There lived a widow with her only son : She had no wealth nor title to renown, Nor any joyous hours, never one. She rose from ragged mattress before sun And stitched all day until her eyes were red, And had to stitch, because her man was dead. Sometimes she fell asleep, she stitched so hard. Letting the linen fall upon the floor ; And hungry cats would steal in from the yard. And mangy chickens pecked about the door, ^ Copyright in the United Kingdom and U. S. A., 1912. 93 94 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET Craning their necks so ragged and so sore To search the room for bread-crumbs, or for mouse, But they got nothing in the widows house. Mostly she made her bread by hemming shrouds For one rich undertaker in the High Street, Who used to pray that folks might die in crowds And that their friends might pay to let them lie sweet ; And when one died the widow in the Bye Street Stitched night and day to give the worm his dole. The dead were better dressed than that poor soul. Her little son was all her lifes delight, For in his little features she could find THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 95 A glimpse of that dead husband out of sight, Where out of sight is never out of mind. And so she stitched till she was nearly blind, Or till the tallow candle end was done, To get a living for her little son. Her love for him being such she would not rest, It was a want which ate her out and in. Another hunger in her withered breast Pressing her womans bones against the skin. To make him plirnip she starved her body thin. And he, he ate the food, and never knew, He laughed and played as little children do. When there was little sickness in the place She took what God would send, and what God sent Never brought any colour to her face 96 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE 8TBEET Nor life into her footsteps when she went. Going, she trembled always withered and bent, For all went to her son, always the same. He was first served whatever blessing came. Sometimes she wandered out to gather sticks, For it was bitter cold there when it snowed. And she stole hay out of the farmers ricks For bands to wrap her feet in while she sewed. And when her feet were warm and the grate glowed She hugged her little son, her hearts desire. With Jimmy, aint it snug beside the fire? So years went on till Jimmy was a lad And went to work as poor lads have to do. And then the widows loving heart was glad To know that all the pains she had gone through. THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 97 And all the years of putting on the screw, Down to the sharpest turn a mortal can, Had borne their fruit, and made her child a man. He got a job at working on the line, Tipping the earth down, trolly after truck. From daylight till the evening, wet or fine. With arms all red from wallowing in the muck. And spitting, as the trolly tipped, for luck. And singing ^Binger as he swung the pick. Because the red blood ran in him so quick. So there was bacon then, at night, for supper In Bye Street there, where he and mother stay; And boots they had, not leaky in the upper. And room rent ready on the settling day ; And beer for poor old mother, worn and grey, And fire in frost ; and in the widows eyes It seemed the Lord had made earth paradise. 98 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET And there they sat of evenings after dark Singing their song of Binger, he and she, Her poor old cackle made the mongrels bark And You sing Binger, mother, carols he; By crimes, but thats a good song, that her be: And then they slept there in the room they shared, And all the time fate had his end prepared. One thing alone made life not perfect sweet : The mothers daily fear of what would come When woman and her lovely boy should meet, When the new wife would break up the old home. Fear of that unborn evil struck her dumb, And when her darling and a woman met. She shook and prayed, Not her, O Grod ; not yet. THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 99 Not yet, dear God, my Jimmy took from me/ Then she would subtly question with her son. Not very handsome, I dont think her be? God help the man who marries such an one. Her red eyes peered to spy the mischief done. She took great care to keep the girls away. And all her trouble made him easier prey. There was a woman out at Plaisters End, Light of her body, fifty to the pound, A copper coin for any man to spend. Lovely to look on when the wits were drowned. Her husbands skeleton was never found. It lay among the rocks at Glydyr Mor Where he drank poison finding her a whore. She was not native there, for she belonged Out Milford way, or Swansea ; no one knew. 100 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET She had the piteous look of someone wronged, Anna, her name, a widow, last of Tyiw. She had lived at Plaisters End a year or two ; At Callows cottage, renting half an acre ; She was a hen-wife and a perfume-maker. Secret she was ; she lived in reputation ; But secret xmseen threads went floating out : Her smile, her voice, her face, were all temp- tation, All subtle flies to trouble man the trout ; Man to entice, entrap, entangle, flout . . . To take and spoil, and then to cast aside : Gain without giving was the craft she plied. And she complained, poor lonely widowed soul, How no one cared, and men were rutters all ; While true love is an ever burning goal Burning the brighter as the shadows fall. THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 101 And all loves dogs went hunting at the call, Married or not she took them by the brain, Sucked at their hearts and tossed them back again. Like the straw fires lit on Saint Johns Eve, She burned and dwindled in her fickle heart ; For if she wept when Harry took his leave, Her tears were lures to beckon Bob to start. And if, while loving Bob, a tinkers cart Came by, she opened window with a smile And gave the tinker hints to wait a while. She passed for pure; but, years before, in Wales, Living at Mountain Ash with different men. Her less discretion had inspired tales Of certain things she did, and how, and when. Those seven years of youth ; we are frantic then. 102 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET She had been frantic in her years of youth, The tales were not more evil than the truth. She had two children as the fruits of trade, Though she drank bitter herbs to kill the curse, Both of them sons, and one she overlaid. The other one the parish had to nurse. Now she grew plump with money in her purse, Passing for pure a hundred miles, I guess. From where her little son wore workhouse dress. There with the Union boys he came and went, A parish bastard fed on bread and tea, Wearing a bright tin badge in furthest Gwent, And no one knowing who his folk could be. His mother never knew his new name : she, — She touched the lust of those who served her turn, And chief among her men was Shepherd Em. THE WIDOW IN THE BYE 8TBEET 108 A moody, treacheroiis man of bawdy mind, Married to that mild girl from Ercall Hill, Whose gentle goodness made him more in- clined To hotter sauces sharper on the bill. The new lust gives the lecher the new thrill. The new wine scratches as it slips the throat, The new flag is so bright by the old boat. Em was her man to buy her bread and meat, Half of his weekly wage was hers to spend. She used to mock, How is your wife, my sweet? Or wail, 0, Ernie, how is this to end ? Or coo, My Ernie is without a friend. She cannot imderstand my precious life, And Ernie would go home and beat his wife. So the four souls are ranged, the chess-board set, 104 TEE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET The dark, invisible hand of secret Fate Brought it to come to being that they met After so many years of lying in wait. While we least think it he prepares his Mate. Mate, and the Kings pawn played, it never ceases Though all the earth is dust of taken pieces. PART II October Fair-time is the time for fun, For all the street is hurdled into rows Of pens of heifers blinking at the sun, And Lemster sheep which pant and seem to doze, And stalls of hardbake and galanty shows. And cheap] acks smashing crocks, and trum- pets blowing, And the loud organ of the horses going. There you can buy blue ribbons for your girl Or take her in a swing-boat tossing high, THK WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 106 Or hold her fast when all the horses whirl Round to the steam pipe whanging at the sky, Or stand her cockshies at the cocoa-shy, Or buy her brooches with her name in red, Or Queen Victoria done m gingerbread. Then there are rifle shots at tossing balls, And if you hit you get a good cigar, And strength-whackers for lads to lamm with mauls. And Cheshire cheeses on a greasy spar. The country folk flock in from near and far. Women and men, like blowflies to the roast, AU love the fair ; but Anna loved it most. Anna was all agog to see the fair ; She made Em promise to be there to meet her. To arm her round to all the pleasures there. And buy her ribbons for her neck, and treat her. So that no woman at the fair should beat her 106 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE 8TREET In having pleasure at a mans expense. She planned to meet him at the chapel fence. So Ernie went ; and Jimmy took his mother, Dressed in her finest with a Monmouth shawl, And there was such a crowd she thought shed smother, And 0, she loved a pepmint above all. Clash go the crockeries where the cheap jacks bawl, Baa go the sheep, thud goes the waxworks drum, And Ernie ciu^ed for Anna hadnt come. He hunted for her up and down the place. Raging and snapping like a working brew. If youre with someone else Ill smash his face, And when Ive done for him Ill go for you. He bought no fairings as hed vowed to do For his poor little children back at home Stuck at the glass Ho see till father come. THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 107 Not finding her^ he went into an inn, Busy with ringing till and scratching matches. Where thirsty drovers mingled stout with gin And three or four Welsh herds were singing catches. The swing-doors clattered, letting in in snatches The noises of the fair, now low, now loud. Em called for beer and glowered at the crowd. While he was glowering at his drinking there. In came the gipsy Bessie, hawking toys ; A bold-eyed strapping harlot with black hair. One of the tribe which camped at Shepherds Bois. She lured him out of inn into the noise Of the steam-organ where the horses spun, And so the end of all things was begun. Newness in lust, always the old in love. Put up your toys, he said, and come along, tc 108 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET Well have a turn of swing boats up above, And see the murder when they strike the gong. Dont ee, she giggled. My, but aint you strong. And Wheres your proper girl? You dont know me. I do. You dont. Why, then, I will, said he. Anna was late because the cart which drove her Called for her late (the horse had broke a trace). She was all dressed and scented for her lover. Her bright blue blouse had imitation lace. The paint was red as roses on her face, She hummed a song, because she thought to see How envious all the other girls would be. THJB WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 109 When she arrived and found her Ernie gone. Her bitter heart thought, This is how it is. Keeping me waiting while the sports are on : Promising faithful, too, and then to miss. O, Ernie, wont I give it you for this.* And looking up she saw a couple cling, Em with his arm round Bessie in the swing. Em caught her eye and spat, and cut her dead, Bessie laughed hardly, in the gipsy way. Anna, though blind with fury, tossed her head. Biting her lips until the red was grey. For bitter moments given, bitter pay, The time for pajrment comes, early or late. No earthly debtor but accoimts to Fate. She turned aside, telling with bitter oaths What Em should suffer if he turned agen, And there was Jimmy stripping off his clothes Within a little ring of farming men. 110 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE 8TBEET Now, Jimmy, put the old tup into pen/ His mother, watching, thought her heart would curdle, To see Jim drag the old ram to the hurdle. Then the ram butted and the game began, Till Jimmys muscles cracked and the ram grunted. The good old wrestling game of Ram and Man, At which none knows the hunter from the hunted. Come and see Jimmy have his belly bunted. Good tup. Good Jim. Good Jimmy. Sick him, Rover, By dang, but Jimmys got him fairly over. Then there was clap of hands and Jinmiy grinned And took five silver shillings from his backers, THE WIDOW IN THE BYE 8TBEXT 111 And said th old tup had put him out of wind Or else hed take all comers at the Whackers. And some made rude remarks of rams and knackers, And mother shook to get her son alone, Sos to be sure he hadnt broke a bone. None but the lucky man deserves the fair, For lucky men have money and success. Things that a whore is very glad to share. Or dip, at least, a finger in the mess. Anne, with her raddled cheeks and Sunday dress. Smiled upon Jimmy, seeing him succeed. As though to say, You are a man, indeed. All the great things of life are swiftly done. Creation, death, and love the double gate. However much we dawdle in the sun We have to hurry at the touch of Fate ; 112 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET When Life knocks at the door no one can wait, When Death makes his arrest we have to go. And so with Love, and Jimmy found it so. Love, the sharp spear, went pricking to the bone, In that one look, desire and bitter aching. Longing to have that woman all alone For her dear beautys sake all else forsaking ; And sudden agony that set him shaking Lest she, whose beauty made his hearts blood cruddle, Should be another mans to kiss and cuddle. She was beside him when he left the ring, Her soft dress brushed against him as he passed her ; He thought her penny scent a sweeter thing Than precious ointment out of alabaster ; THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 113 Love, the mild servant, makes a drunken master. She smiled, half sadly, out of thoughtful eyes, And all the strong young man was easy prize. She spoke, to take him, seeing him a sheep, How beautiful you wrastled with the ram, It made me all go tremble just to peep, I am that fond of wrastling, that I am. Why, heres your mother, too. Good even- ing, maam. I was just telling Jim how well he done, How proud you must be of so fine a son. Old mother blinked, while Jinuny hardly knew Whether he knew the woman there or not ; But well he knew, if not, he wanted to, Joy of her beauty ran in him so hot, Old trembling mother by him was forgot, I 114 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET While Anna searched the mothers face, to know Whether she took her for a whore or no. The womans maxim, Win the woman first, Made her be gracious to the withered thing. This being in crowds do give one such a thirst, I wonder if theyve tea going at The King ? My throats that dry my very tongue do cling. Perhaps youd take my arm, wed wander up (If youd agree) and try and get a cup. Come, maam, a cup of tea would do you good Theres nothing like a nice hot cup of tea After the crowd and all the time youve stood; And The Kings strict, it isnt like The Key. Now, take my arm, my dear, and lean on me/ THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 115 And Jimmys mother, being nearly blind, Took Annas ann, and only thought her kind. So off they set, with Anna talking to her, How nice the tea would be after the crowd, And mother thinking half the time she knew her, And Jimmys hearts blood ticking quick and loud, And Death beside him knitting at his shroud, And all the High Street babbling with the fair, And white October clouds in the blue air. So tea was made, and down they sat to drink ; the pale beauty sitting at the board There is more death in women than we think, There is much danger in the soul adored. The white hands bring the poison and the cord; Death has a lodge in lips as red as cherries. Death has a mansion in the yew tree berries. 116 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE 8TBEET They sat there talking after tea was done, And Jimmy blushed at Annas sparkling looks, And Anna flattered mother on her son, Catching both fishes on her subtle hooks. With twilight; tea and talk in ingle-nooks, And music coming up from the dim street, Mother had never known a fair so sweet. Now cow-bells clink, for milking-time is come. The drovers stack the hurdles into carts. New masters drive the straying cattle home. Many a young calf from his mother parts. Hogs straggle back to sty by fits and starts ; The farmers take a last glass at the inns. And now the frolic of the fair begins. All of the side shows of the fair are lighted, Flares and bright lights, and brassy cymbals clanging, Beginning now and Everyones invited, THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 117 Shatter the pauses of the organs whangmg, The Oldest Show on Earth and the Last Hanging, The Murder in the Red Bam, with real blood, The rifles crack, the Sally shy-sticks thud. Anna walked slowly homewards with her prey, Holding old tottering mothers weight upon her, r And pouring in sweet poison on the way Of Such a pleasure, maam, and such an honour, And Ones so safe with such a son to con her Through all the noises and through all the press. Boys darednt squirt tormenters on her dress. At mothers door they stop to say Good- night, 118 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET And mother must go in to set the table. Anna pretended that she felt a fright To go alone through all the merry babel : My friends are waiting at The Cain and Abel/ Just down the other side of Market Square^ Itd be a mercy if youd set me there. So Jimmy came, while mother went inside ; Anna has got her victim in her clutch. Jimmy, all blushing, glad to be her guide, Thrilled by her scent, and trembling at her touch. She was all white and dark, and said not much ; She sighed, to hint that pleasures grave was dug. And smiled within to see him such a mug. They passed the doctors house among the trees. She sighed so deep that Jinmiy asked her why. THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 119 Im too unhappy upon nights like these, When everyone has happiness but I ! Then, arent you happy? She appeared to cry. Blinked with her eyes, and turned away her head: Not much; but some men understand, she said; Her voice caught lightly on a broken note, Jinuny half-dared but dared not touch her hand. Yet all his blood went pumping in his throat Beside the beauty he could understand, And Death stopped knitting at the muffling band. The shroud is done, he muttered, toe to chin. He snapped the ends, and tucked his needles in. 120 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET Jimmyi half stammerings choked, Has any man He stopped, she shook her head to answer No. Then tell me. No. Fraps some day, if I can. It hurts to talk of some things ever so. But youre so different. There, come, we must go. None but unhappy women know how good It is to meet a soul whos understood. No. Wait a moment. May I call you Anna? Perhaps. There must be nearness twixt us two. Love in her face hung out his bloody banner, And all loves clanging trumpets shocked and blew When we got up to-day we never knew. » THE WIDOW IN THE BYE 8TBEET 121 Im sure I didnt thinks nor you did. Never. And now this friendships come to us for- ever. Now, Anna, take my arm, dear. Not to-night, That must come later when we know our minds. We must agree to keep this evening white, Well eat the fruit to-night and save the rinds. And all the folk whose shadows darked the blinds. And all the dancers whirling in the fair, Were wretched worms to Jim and Anna there. How wonderful life is, said Anna, lowly. But it begins again with you for friend. (( 122 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET In the dim lamplight Jimmy thought her holy, A lovely fragile thing for him to tend, Grace beyond measure, beauty without end. * Anna, he said ; * Good-night. This is the door. I never knew what people meant before. ** Good-night, my friend. Good-bye. * But qh, my sweet. The nights quite early yet, dont say good- bye. Come just another short turn down the street, The whole lifes bubbling up for you and I. Somehow I feel to-morrow we may die. Come just as far as to the blacksmiths light. But No, said Anna; * not to-night. Good- night. All the tides triimiph when the white moon fills. THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STHKET 123 Down in the race the toppUng waters shout, The breakers shake the bases of the hills, There is a thundering where the streams go out, And the wise shipman puts his ship about Seeing the gathering of those waters wan, But what when love makes high tide in a man? Jimmy walked home with all his mind on fire. One lovely face forever set in flame. He shivered as he went, like tautened wire. Surge after surge of shuddering in him came And then swept out repeating one sweet name * Anna, oh Anna, to the evening star. Anna was sipping whiskey in the bar. So back to home and mother Jimmy wan- dered. 124 THE WIDOW IN THB BTB STREET Thinking of Plaisters End and Annas lips. He ate no supper worth the name, but pon- dered On Plaisters End hedge^ scarlet with ripe hips, And of the lovely moon there in eclipse, And how she must be shining in the house Behind the hedge of those old dog-rose boughs. Old mother cleared away. The clock struck eight. Why, boy, youVe left your bacon, lawks a me, So thats what comes of having tea so late. Another time youll go without your tea. Your father liked his cup, too, didnt he, Always * another cup he used to say. He never went without on any day. How nice the lady was and how she talked, Ive never had a nicer fair, not ever, THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 126 She said shed like to see us if we walked To Plaisters End, beyond by Watersever. Nice-looking woman, too, and that, and clever ; We might go round one evening, praps, we two; Or I might go, if its too far for you. **No, said the mother, ** were not folk for that; Meet at the fair and that, and there an end. Rake out the fire and put out the cat, These fairs are sinful, tempting folk to spend. Of course she spoke polite and like a friend ; Of course she had to do, and so I let her, But now its done and past, so I forget her. *I dont see why forget her. Why forget her? She treat us kind. She werent like everyone. 126 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STBEET I never saw a woman I liked better, And hes not easy pleased, my fathers son. So Ill go round some night when work is done.* *Now, Jim, my dear, trust mother, theres a dear. *Well, so I do, but sometimes youre so queer. She blinked at him out of her withered eyes Below her lashless eyelids red and bleared. Her months of sacrifice had won the prize, Her Jim had come to what she always feared. And yet she doubted, so she shook and peered And begged her God not let a woman take The lovely son whom she had starved to make. Doubting, she stood the dishes in the rack, * Well ask her in some evening, then, she said. THE WIDOW IN THE BYE 8TBEET 127 How nice her hair looked in the bit of black. And still she peered from eyes all dim and red To note at once if Jimmy drooped his head^ Or if his ears blushed when he heard her praised^ And Jimmy blushed and hung his head and gazed. This is the end, she thought. This is the end. Ill have to sew again for Mr. Jones, Do hems when I can hardly see to mend, And have the old ache in my marrow bones. And when his wifes in child-bed, when she groans. Shell send for me until the pains have ceased, And give me leavings at the christening feast. 128 THB WIDOW IN THE BTB STREET And sit aslant to eye me as I eat, * Youre only wanted here, maam, for to-day, Just for the chiistning party, for the treat. Dont ever think I mean to let you stay ; Twos company, threes none, thats what I say. Life can be bitter to the very bone When one is poor, and woman, and alone. * Jimmy, she said, still doubting. Come, my dear. Lets have our Binger, fore we go to bed. And then The parsons dog, she cackled clear, Lep over stile, she sang, nodding her head. His name was little Binger. Jim, she said, Binger, now, chorus . . . Jimmy kicked the hob. The sacrament of song died in a sob. tt THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 129 Jimmy went out into the night to think Under the moon so steady in the blue. The womans beauty ran in him like drink, The fear that men had loved her burnt him through ; The fear that even then another knew All the deep mystery which women make To hide the inner nothing made him shake. Anna, I love you, and I always shall. He looked towards Plaisters End beyond Cot Hills. A white star glimmered in the long canal, A droning from the music came in thrills. Love is a flame to burn out human wills, Love is a flame to set the will on fire. Love is a flame to cheat men into mire, One of the three, we make Love what we choose. X 130 TUB WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET But Jimmy did not know, he only thought That Anna was too beautiful to lose,- That she was all the world and he was naught, That it was sweet, though bitter, to be caught. Anna, I love you/ Underneath the moon, I shall go mad unless I see you soon/* a The fairs lights threw aloft a misty glow. The organ whangs, the giddy horses reel, The rifles cease, the folk begin to go. The hands unclamp the swing boats from the wheel. There is a smell of trodden orange peel ; The organ drones and dies, the horses stop, And then the tent collapses from the top. The fair is over, let the people troop. The dnmkards stagger homewards down the gutters. The showmen heave in an excited group. THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 131 The poles tilt slowly down, the canvas flutters, The mauls knock out the pins, the last flare sputters. * Lower away. Go easy. Lower, lower. Youve dang near knock my skull in. Loose it slower. Back in the horses. Are the swing boats loaded? All right to start. Bill, wheres the cushion gone ? The red one for the Queen? I think I stowed it. You think, you think. Lord, wheres that cushion, John ? Its in that ditty box youre sitting on. What more dyou want? A concertina plays Far off as wandering lovers go their ways. «T4.>. 182 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STBEET Up the dim Bye Street to the market-place The dead bones of the fair are borne in carts, Horses and swing boats at a funeral pace After triimiphant hours quickening hearts ; A policeman eyes each waggon as it starts, The drowsy showmen stumble half asleep, One of them catcalls, having drunken deep. So out, over the pass, into the plain, And the dawn finds them filling empty cans In some sweet-smelling dusty country lane, Where a brook chatters over rusty pans. The iron chimneys of the caravans Smoke as they go. And now the fair has gone To find a new pitch somewhere further on. But as the fair moved out two lovers came, Ernie and Bessie loitering out together ; Bessie with wild eyes, hungry as a flame. THE WIDOW IN THB BTE STREET 138 Em like a stallion tugging at a tether. It was calm moonlight^ and October weather, So still, so lovely, as they topped the ridge. They brushed by Jimmy standing on the bridge. And, as they passed, they gravely eyed each other. And the blood burned in each heart beating there ; And out into the Bye Street tottered mother, Without her shawl, in the October air. Jimmy, she cried, Jimmy. And Bes- sies hair Drooped on the instant over Ernies face. And the two lovers clung in an embrace. O, Em. My own, my Bessie. As they kissed Jimmy was envious of the thing unknown. 134 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE 8TBEET So this was Love^ the something he had missed, Woman and man athirst, aflame, alone. Envy went knockmg at his marrow-bone, And Annas face swam up so dim, so fair. Shining and sweet, with poppies in her hair. PART III After the fair, the gang began again. Tipping the trolleys down the banks of earth. The truck of stone clanks on the endless chain, A clever pony guides it to its berth. Let go. It tips, the navvies shout for mirth To see the pony step aside, so wise, But Jimmy sighed, thinking of Annas eyes. And when he stopped his shovelling he looked Over the junipers towards Plaister way. THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 135 The beauty of his darling had him hooked, He had no heart for wrastling with the clay. **0 Lord Almighty, I must get away; Lord, I must. I must just see my flower. Why, I could nm there in the dinner hour. The whistle on the pilot engine blew, The men knocked off, and Jinmiy slipped aside Over the fence, over the bridge, and through. And then ahead along the water-side, Under the red-brick rail-bridge, arching wide. Over the hedge, across the fields, and on ; The foreman asked : Wheres Jimmy Gur- neygone?* It is a mile and more to Plaisters End, But Jinmiy ran the short way by the stream, And there was Annas cottage at the bend. With blue smoke on the chironey, faint as steam. 186 THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET ^God, shes at home/ and up his heart a gleam Leapt like a rocket on November nights, And shattered slowly in a burst of lights. Anna was singing at her kitchen fire, She was surprised, and not well pleased to see A sweating navvy, red with heat and mire. Come to her door, whoever he might be. But when she saw that it was Jimmy, she Smiled at his eyes upon her, full of pain. And thought, But, still, he mustnt come again. People will talk ; boys are such crazy things ; But hes a dear boy though he is so green. So, hurriedly, she slipped her apron strings, And dabbed her hair, and wiped her fingers clean. And came to greet him languid as a queen. THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET 187 Looking as sweet, as fair, as pure, as sad. As when she drove her loving husband mad. 9i Poor boy, she said, Poor boy, how hot you areJ She laid a cool hand to his sweating face. How kind to come. Have you been run- ning far 7 Im just going out ; come up the road a pace. dear, these hens; theyre all about the place. So Jimmy shooed the hens at her conunand, And got outside the gate as she had planned. It Anna, my dear, I love you ; love you, true ; I had to come] — I dont know — I cant rest — I lay awake all night, thinking of you. Many must love you, but I love you b^sti- fi Many have loved me^ ^^ki^Ai^ff^.j^M^obir fessed, /^ >j^ ;»[oV)
Posted on: Tue, 29 Oct 2013 18:30:36 +0000
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