(Kind o’ grief I understand,
Losin’ my companion,—and
Still a widower—and still
Hinted at, like neighbers will!)
So, app’inted, as folks said,
Ballenger a-bein’ dead,
Widder, ’peared-like, gradjully,
Jes grieved after him tel she
Died, nex’ Aprile wuz a year,—
And in Armazindy’s keer