And he laughs, perchance, at the dust that fills
For ever his earthly tracks.
—Peace, Peace, old chap! It is half a prayer
In the name of a friend—Someone—Somewhere.
[99]
]AT BUMMER’S CREEK.
I planted Dave at Bummer’s Creek
Somewhere in ’Ninety-five,
When all the country round about
Was like a busy hive—
And good blokes pegged like rotten sheep,