THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Mrs. E. F. Ducomraun
 
 Messrs. Gay & Bird thank Messrs. Chatto & 
 Windus for the permission to publish this volume 
 and beg to inform readers that these verses are 
 published by Messrs. Chatto & Windus in the 
 collected edition of Bret Harte's works and also 
 in the volume entitled " Some Later Verses."
 
 / ' m sitting alone by the fire, 
 Dressed just as I came from the dance
 
 HER LETTER 
 
 His Answer &* Her Last Letter 
 Bij BRET HARTE 
 
 Pictured hj/ ARTHUR I KELLER 
 
 London 
 
 GAY AND BIRD 
 
 22 Bedford Street, Strand 
 1905
 
 (Cbe RitcrsiDe press 
 
 Electrotyped and printed by H. O. Hanghton &> Co. 
 Cambridge, Mass., U.S.A.
 
 College 
 Library 
 
 PUBLISHERS' NOTE 
 
 'The first two of the poems here printed have 
 long been popular favorites, but the third was not 
 written till near the end of Mr. Harte's life. It 
 rounds out the romance with such completeness and 
 charm that it is peculiarly fitting that the poems 
 should be grouped, and issued in a form worthy of 
 their own excellence. The cooperation of Mr. Keller 
 was secured for making the illustrations, not only 
 on account of his recognized ability as an artist, 
 but also because of his admiration for Mr. Harte's 
 writings and his previous success in illustrating 
 several of the stories. 
 
 Boston, 4. Park St., October, 1905. 
 
 1053298
 
 -IST-OF-DESIGNS * 
 
 I 'm sitting alone by the fire 
 
 Dressed just as I came from the dance. (In color} Frontispiece 
 
 Title. (In color] 
 
 Publishers' Note Headpiece $ 
 
 List of Designs Headpiece J 
 
 HER LETTER Half-title // 
 
 Is wasting an hour upon you 7 ? 
 
 That waits on the stairs for me yet 75 
 
 With whom do I waltz, flirt, or talk? IJ 
 
 To look supernaturally grand 7<? 
 
 And the hum of the smallest of talk 21 
 
 With the man that shot Sandy McGee. (In color} . . 2J 
 
 The man that shot Sandy McGee 25 
 
 Of that ride, that to me was the rarest 2J 
 
 And swam the North Fork, and all that 2() 
 
 Mamma says my taste still is low J7 
 
 That my heart 's somewhere there in the ditches .... JJ
 
 His ANSWER Half-title j5 
 
 I should write what he runs off his tongue. (In color] . . j/ 
 
 Being asked by an intimate party jp 
 
 That with you, Miss, he "challenges Fate " 4.1 
 
 Though the claim not, at date, paying wages 4.3 
 
 And the rose that you gave him. (In color] 4.5 
 
 Is frequent and painful and free 47 
 
 Imparts but small ease to the style ^p 
 
 In this green laurel spray that he treasures 5/ 
 
 But he lies there quite peaceful and pensive 5J 
 
 For I have a small favor to ask you 55 
 
 Here 's my pile ; which it 's six hundred dollars .... 57 
 
 HER LAST LETTER Half-title 5p 
 
 That you last wrote the sj_th of December 6 1 
 
 And you're not to be found in the ditches. (In color) . . 6j 
 
 From this spot, that you said was the fairest . . . . . 65 
 
 To London, when Pa wired, " Stop " 67 
 
 And as to the stories you 've heard 6ty
 
 Whose father sold clothes on the Ear 77 
 
 With a look, Joe, that made her eyes drop. (In color] . . /j 
 
 To find myself here, all alone 75 
 
 Ah ! gone is the old necromancy 77 
 
 And you called the place Eden, you know. (In color} . . /> 
 
 And the copse where you once tied my shoe-knot 8 1 
 
 There 's the rustle of silk on the sidewalk 8j 
 
 But there 's still the " lap, lap " of the river. (In color) . 8j 
 
 There's a lot that remains which one fancies 87 
 
 He thinks he may find you Sty 
 
 And good-night to the canon that answers p/ 
 
 I've just got your note. You deceiver! yj 
 
 Now I know why they had me transferred here. (In color] . pj 
 
 How dared you get rich you great stupid ! . ... yj 
 The man who shot Sandy McGee 
 
 You made mayor! pp 
 
 Tailpiece IOO 
 
 All the headpieces and other decorations are from Mr. Keller' s designs.
 
 HER LETTER
 
 I'M sitting alone by the fire, 
 
 Dressed just as I came from the dance, 
 In a robe even you would admire, 
 
 It cost a cool thousand in France; 
 I'm be-diamonded out of all reason, 
 
 My hair is done up in a cue: 
 In short, sir, "the belle of the season" 
 
 Is wasting an hour upon you.
 
 In short, sir, " the belle of the season " 
 Is wasting an hour upon you
 
 DOZEN engagements I Ve broken ; 
 
 I left in the midst of a set; 
 Likewise a proposal, half spoken, 
 
 That waits on the stairs for me yet. 
 They say he'll be rich, when he grows up, 
 
 And then he adores me indeed; 
 And you, sir, are turning your nose up, 
 
 Three thousand miles off, as you read.
 
 1 w 
 
 Likewise a proposal, half spoken, 
 
 That waits on the stairs for me yet
 
 D how do I like my position ?" 
 
 "And what do I think of New York ?" 
 "And now, in my higher ambition, 
 
 With whom do I waltz, flirt, or talk?' 
 "And isn't it nice to have riches, 
 
 And diamonds and silks, and all that ? ' 
 "And aren't they a change to the ditches 
 
 And tunnels of Poverty Flat?"
 
 With whom do 1 waltz, flirt, or talk ?
 
 W ELL, yes, if you saw us out driving 
 
 Each day in the Park, four-in-hand, 
 If you saw poor dear mamma contriving 
 
 To look supernaturally grand, - 
 If you saw papa's picture, as taken 
 
 By Brady, and tinted at that, 
 You'd never suspect he sold bacon 
 
 And flour at Poverty Flat.
 
 If you saw poor dear Mamma contriving 
 To look supernaturally grand
 
 /\ND yet, just this moment, when sitting 
 In the glare of the grand chandelier, - 
 
 In the bustle and glitter befitting 
 The "finest soiree of the year," 
 
 In the mists of a gaze de Chambery^ 
 
 And the hum of the smallest of talk, 
 
 Somehow, Joe, I thought of the "Ferry," 
 
 And the dance that we had on "The Fork; '
 
 In the mists of a gaze de Chamber j, 
 And the bum of the smallest of talk
 
 Harrison's barn, with its muster 
 
 Of flags festooned over the wall; 
 Of the candles that shed their soft lustre 
 
 And tallow on head-dress and shawl ; 
 Of the steps that we took to one fiddle, 
 
 Of the dress of my queer vis-a-vis ; 
 And how I once went down the middle 
 
 With the man that shot Sandy McGee;
 
 And how I once went down the middle 
 With the man that shot Sandy Me Gee
 
 - .. 
 
 The man that shot Sa?idy Me Gee
 
 the moon that was quietly sleeping 
 
 On the hill, when the time came to go ; 
 Of the few baby peaks that were peeping 
 
 From under their bedclothes of snow; 
 Of that ride, that to me was the rarest; 
 
 Of the something you said at the gate. 
 Ah! Joe, then I was n't an heiress 
 
 To "the best-paying lead in the State."
 
 Of that ride, that to me was the rarest
 
 WELL, well, it's all past; yet it 's funny 
 
 To think, as I stood in the glare 
 Of fashion and beauty and money, 
 
 That I should be thinking, right there, 
 Of some one who breasted high water, 
 
 And swam the North Fork, and all that, 
 Just to dance with old Folinsbee's daughter, 
 
 The Lily of Poverty Flat.
 
 And swam the North Fork, and all that, 
 Just to dance with old Folinibei 's daughter
 
 OUT goodness! what nonsense I'm writing! 
 
 (Mamma says my taste still is low), 
 Instead of my triumphs reciting, 
 
 I'm spooning on Joseph, heigh-ho! 
 And I'm to be "finished" by travel, 
 
 Whatever 's the meaning of that. 
 Oh, why did papa strike pay gravel 
 
 In drifting on Poverty Flat ?
 
 Mamma says my taste still is low
 
 VTOOD-NIGHT! here's the end of my paper; 
 
 Good-night! if the longitude please, 
 For maybe, while wasting my taper, 
 
 Your sun 's climbing over the trees. 
 But know, if you have n't got riches, 
 
 And are poor, dearest Joe, and all that, 
 That my heart's somewhere there in the ditches, 
 
 And you 've struck it, on Poverty Flat.
 
 
 That my heart 's somewhere there in the ditches, 
 And you ' ve struck it, on Poverty Fiat
 
 HIS ANSWER
 
 O 
 
 EING asked by an intimate party, 
 
 Which the same I would term as a friend, 
 Though his health it were vain to call hearty, 
 
 Since the mind to deceit it might lend; 
 For his arm it was broken quite recent, 
 
 And there 's something gone wrong with his 
 
 lung, 
 Which is why it is proper and decent 
 
 I should write what he runs off his tongue.
 
 Which is why it is proper and decent 
 
 I should write what he runs off his tongue
 
 Being asked by an intimate
 
 IRST, he says, Miss, he 's read through your letter 
 
 To the end, and "the end came too soon;" 
 That a "slight illness kept him your debtor/' 
 
 ('Which for weeks he was wild as a loon); 
 That "his spirits are buoyant as yours is;' 
 
 That with you, Miss, he "challenges Fate" 
 (Which the language that invalid uses 
 
 At times it were vain to relate).
 
 That "bis spirits are buoyant as yours is ; " 
 That with you, Miss, be "challenges Fate"
 
 he says " that the mountains are fairer 
 
 For once being held in your thought;' 
 That each rock " holds a wealth that is rarer 
 
 Than ever by gold-seeker sought." 
 (Which are words he would put in these pages, 
 
 By a party not given to guile ; 
 Though the claim not, at date, paying wages, 
 
 Might produce in the sinful a smile.)
 
 
 He, 
 
 1 
 
 
 Though the claim not, at date, paying wages, 
 Might produce in the sinful a smile
 
 1J.E remembers the ball at the Ferry, 
 
 And the ride, and the gate, and the vow, 
 And the rose that you gave him, that very 
 
 Same rose he is " treasuring now." 
 (Which his blanket he 's kicked on his trunk, 
 Miss, 
 
 And insists on his legs being free ; 
 And his language to me from his bunk, Miss, 
 
 Is frequent and painful and free.)
 
 And the rose that you gave him
 
 And bis language to me from bis bunk, Miss, 
 Is frequent and painful and free
 
 J~lE hopes you are wearing no willows, 
 
 But are happy and gay all the while ; 
 That he knows (which this dodging of pillows 
 
 Imparts but small ease to the style, 
 And the same you will pardon) he knows, 
 Miss, 
 
 That, though parted by many a mile, 
 "Yet, were he lying under the snows, Miss, 
 
 They 'd melt into tears at your smile."
 
 Which this dodging of pillows 
 Imparts but small ease to the style
 
 D "you '11 still think of him in your pleasures, 
 In your brief twilight dreams of the past; 
 
 In this green laurel spray that he treasures, 
 It was plucked where your parting was last ; 
 
 In this specimen, but a small trifle, - 
 It will do for a pin for your shawl." 
 
 (Which, the truth not to wickedly stifle, 
 \ 
 
 Was his last week's " clean up," -and his #//.
 
 In this green laurel-spray that be treasures, 
 It was plucked where jour parting was last
 
 JTIE'S asleep, which the same might seem strange, 
 
 Miss, 
 
 Were it not that I scorn to deny 
 That I raised his last dose, for a change, Miss, 
 
 In view that his fever was high ; 
 But he lies there quite peaceful and pensive. 
 
 And now, my respects, Miss, to you ; 
 Which my language, although comprehensive, 
 
 Might seem to be freedom, is true.
 
 But he lies there quite peaceful and pensive
 
 FOR! have a small favor to ask you, 
 
 As concerns a bull-pup, and the same, 
 If the duty would not overtask you,- 
 
 You would please to procure for me, game; 
 And send per express to the Flat, Miss, - 
 
 For they say York is famed for the breed, 
 Which, though words of deceit may be that, Miss, 
 
 I'll trust to your taste, Miss, indeed.
 
 F0r / #w a small favor to ask you, 
 As concerns a bull-pup
 
 P.S. Which this same interfering 
 
 Into other folks' way I despise; 
 Yet if it so be I was hearing 
 
 That it 's just empty pockets as lies 
 Between you and Joseph, it follers 
 
 That, having no family claims, 
 Here's my pile, which it's six hundred dollars, 
 
 As is yours, with respects, 
 
 TRUTHFUL JAMES.
 
 Here 's my pile ; which it 's iix hundred dollars, 
 As is yours, with respects
 
 HER LAST LETTER
 
 JUNE 4th! Do you know what that date means? 
 
 June 4th ! by this air and these pines ! 
 Well, only you know how I hate scenes, 
 
 These might be my very last lines ! 
 For perhaps, sir, you '11 kindly remember - 
 
 If some other things you've forgot 
 
 Just six months ago ! from this spot;
 
 That you last wrote the <f.th of December, 
 Just six months ago ! from this spot
 
 r ROM this spot, that you said was "the fairest 
 
 For once being held in my thought." 
 Now, really I call that the barest 
 
 Of well, I won't say what I ought ! 
 For here /am back from my "riches," 
 
 My "triumphs," my "tours," and all that; 
 Andjy^'re not to be found in the ditches 
 
 Or temples of Poverty Flat 1
 
 And you 're not to be found in the ditches 
 Or temples of Poverty Flat !
 
 From this spot, that you said was " the fairest 
 For once being held in my thought ' '
 
 F rom Paris we went for the season 
 
 To London, when pa wired, " Stop." 
 Mamma says "his health' 1 ' was the reason. 
 
 (I've heard that some things took a "drop.") 
 But she said if my patience I 'd summon 
 
 I could go back with him to the Flat 
 Perhaps I was thinking of some one 
 
 Who of me well was not thinking that!
 
 From Paris we went for the season 
 To London, when Pa wired, " Stop "
 
 OF course you will say that I " never 
 
 Replied to the letter you wrote." 
 That is just like a man ! But, however, 
 
 I read it or how could I quote? 
 And as to the stories you 've heard (No, 
 
 Don't tell me you have n't - - 1 know !) 
 You'll not believe one blessed word, Joe; 
 
 But just whence they came, let them go
 
 And as to the stories you 'zv beard (No, 
 Don't tell me you have n't / know /)
 
 D they came from Sade Lotski of Yolo, 
 
 Whose father sold clothes on the Bar 
 You called him Job-lotski, you know, Joe, 
 
 And the boys said her value was par. 
 Well, we met her in Paris just flaring 
 
 With diamonds, and lost in a hat ! 
 And she asked me " How Joseph was faring 
 
 In his love-suit on Poverty Flat ! ''
 
 Whose father sold clothes on the Bar 
 You called him Job-lotski, you know, Joe
 
 OHE thought it would shame me! I met her 
 
 With a look, Joe, that made her eyes drop; 
 And I said that your "love-suit fared better 
 
 Than any suit out of their shop ! ' 
 And I did n't blush then as I'm doing 
 
 To find myself here, all alone, 
 And left, Joe, to do all the "suing'' 
 
 To a lover that 's certainly flown.
 
 / met her 
 With a look, Joe, that made her eyes drop
 
 \ 
 
 And I did ti't blush then as I'm doing 
 To find myself here, all alone
 
 IN this brand-new hotel, called "The Lily" 
 
 (I wonder who gave it that name ? ), 
 I really am feeling quite silly, 
 
 To think I was once called the same ; 
 And I stare from its windows, and fancy 
 
 I'm labeled to each passer-by. 
 Ah ! gone is the old necromancy, 
 
 For nothing seems right to my eye.
 
 Ab ! gone is the old necromancy, 
 For nothing seems right to my eye
 
 that hill there are stores that I knew not; 
 There's a street where I once lost my way; 
 And the copse where you once tied my shoe-knot 
 
 Is shamelessly open as day ! 
 And that bank by the spring I once drank there, 
 
 And you called the place Eden, you know; 
 Now, I'm banished like Eve though the bank 
 
 there 
 Is belonging to "Adams and Co."
 
 And that bank by the spring / once drank there, 
 And you called the place Eden, you know
 
 
 ' 
 
 : V 
 
 HC 
 
 .^s:-' 
 
 * r<?/^ where you once tied my shoe-knot 
 Is shamelessly open as day!
 
 J. HERE 's the rustle of silk on the sidewalk; 
 
 Just now there passed by a tall hat; 
 But there's gloom in this "boom" and this wild 
 talk 
 
 Of the "future" of Poverty Flat. 
 There's a decorous chill in the air, Joe, 
 
 Where once we were simple and free; 
 And I hear they've been making a mayor, Joe, 
 
 Of the man who shot Sandy McGee.
 
 There 's the rustle of silk on the sidewalk . 
 Just now there passed by a tall hat
 
 OUT there's still the "lap, lap" of the river; 
 
 There 's the song of the pines, deep and low. 
 (How my longing for them made me quiver 
 
 In the park that they call Fontainebleau ! ) 
 There's the snow-peak that looked on our dances, 
 
 And blushed when the morning said, "Go! ' 
 There's a lot that remains which one fancies 
 
 But somehow there's never a Joe!
 
 But there's still the "lap, lap" of the river ; 
 There' s the song of the pines, deep and low
 
 There' s a lot that remains which one fancies
 
 r ERHAPS, on the whole, it is better, 
 
 For you might have been changed like the rest; 
 Though it's strange that I'm trusting this letter 
 
 To papa, just to have it addressed. 
 He thinks he may find you, and really 
 
 Seems kinder now I 'm all alone. 
 You might have been here, Joe, if merely 
 
 To look what I 'm willing to own.
 
 He thinks he may find you
 
 W ELL, well! that 's all past; so good-night, Joe; 
 
 Good-night to the river and Flat; 
 Good-night to what 's wrong and what 's right, 
 Joe; . 
 
 Good-night to the past, and all that 
 To Harrison's barn, and its dancers; 
 
 To the moon, and the white peak of snow ; 
 And good-night to the canon that answers 
 
 My "Joe!" with its echo of "No!"
 
 And good-night to the canon that answers 
 My " Joe ! " with its echo of " No ! "
 
 P.S. I've just got your note. You deceiver! 
 
 How dared you how could you? Oh, Joe ! 
 To think I've been kept a believer 
 
 In things that were six months ago ! 
 And it 's you 've built this house, and the bank, too, 
 
 And the mills, and the stores, and all that ! 
 And for everything changed I must thank you, 
 
 Who have "struck it" on Poverty Flat!
 
 ,; - 
 
 1 ' ' ve just got your note. You deceiver !
 
 11 ow dared you get rich you great stupid! 
 
 Like papa, and some men that I know, 
 Instead of just trusting to Cupid 
 
 And to me for your money ? Ah, Joe ! 
 Just to think you sent never a word, dear, 
 
 Till you wrote to papa for consent ! 
 Now I know why they had me transferred here, 
 
 And "the health of papa" -what that meant!
 
 Now I know why they bad me transferred here, 
 And " the health of papa" what that meant !
 
 How dared you get rich you great stupid ! 
 Like papa, and some men that I know
 
 INow I know why they call this "The Lily;" 
 
 Why the man who shot Sandy McGee 
 You made mayor! 'T was because- -oh, you 
 silly ! 
 
 He once "went down the middle" with me! 
 I 've been fooled to the top of my bent here, 
 
 So come, and ask pardon you know 
 That you Ve still got to get my consent, dear! 
 
 And just think what that echo said- -Joe!
 
 The man who shot Sandy Me Gee 
 You made mayor !
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES 
 
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