To kindle fire fer breakfast, and she smiled so bright and gay,
By gee, I simply couldn't bear ter see her work that way!
Well, I went in and chopped, I guess, enough ter last a year,
And she said "Thanks," so pretty, gosh! it done me good ter hear!
She do'n't look over twenty-five, no, not a single mite;
Ah, hum! it must be lonesome fer the Widder Clark ter-night.

I sez ter her, "Our breakfasts ain't much fun fer me or you;
Seems's if two lonesome meals might make one social one fer two."
She blushed so red that I did, too, and I got sorter 'fraid
That she was mad, and, like a fool, come home; I wish I'd stayed!
I'd like ter know, now, if she thinks that Clark's a pretty name--
'Cause, if she do'n't, and fancies mine, we'll make 'em both the same.
I think I'll go and ask her, 'cause 't would ease my mind a sight
Ter know 't wa'n't quite so lonesome fer the Widder Clark ter-night.

* * * * *

FRIDAY EVENING MEETINGS

Oh, the Friday evening meetings in the vestry, long ago,
When the prayers were long and fervent and the anthems staid and slow,
Where the creed was like the pewbacks, of a pattern straight and stiff,
And the congregation took it with no doubting "but" or "if,"
Where the girls sat, fresh and blooming, with the old folks down before,
And the boys, who came in later, took the benches near the door.

Oh, the Friday evening meetings, how the ransomed sinners told
Of their weary toils and trials ere they reached the blessed fold;
How we trembled when the Deacon, with a saintly relish, spoke