"Yet once more I would blow; and the music divine
Would bring me a third time an exquisite bliss,—
You would lay your fair cheek to this brown one of mine:
And your lips, stealing past it, would give me a kiss."
The maiden laughed out in her innocent glee,—
"What a fool of yourself with the whistle you'd make!
For only consider how silly 'twould be
To sit there and whistle for what you might take."
MOTHER'S DOUGHNUTS.
El Dorado, 1851.
I've jest bin down ter Thompson's, boys,
'N' feelin' kind o' blue,
I thought I'd look in at "The Ranch,"
Ter find out what wuz new;
When I seen this sign a-hangin'
On a shanty by the lake:
"Here's whar yer gets yer doughnuts
Like yer mother used ter make."
I've seen a grizzly show his teeth;
I've seen Kentucky Pete
Draw out his shooter, 'n' advise
A "tenderfoot" ter treat;
But nothin' ever tuk me down
'N' made my benders shake,
Like that sign about the doughnuts
That my mother used ter make.
A sort o' mist shut out the ranch;
'N' standin' thar instead,
I seen an old white farmhouse,
With its doors all painted red.
A whiff came through the open door—
Wuz I sleepin', or awake?
The smell wuz that of doughnuts
Like my mother used ter make.
The bees wuz hummin' round the porch,
Whar honeysuckles grew;
A yellow dish of apple-sass
Wuz sittin' thar in view;
'N' on the table, by the stove,
An old-time "johnny-cake,"
'N' a platter full of doughnuts
Like my mother used ter make.