LITTLE WESLEY.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVI, Issue 12, 13 July 1888, Page 19

LITTLE WESLEY.

Sbnob little Wesley went, the place seems all n strange and still— W'y I miss his yell o' - Gran'pap I " as Td miss the whipperwill I And to think I ust to scold him for his everlastin' noise, When I on'y rickollect him as the best o' little boys I I wish a hunderd times a day 'at he'd come trompin' in, And all the noise he ever made was twio't as loud ag'ia I— It 'ud seem like some soft music played on some toe instrument 'Longside o' this loud lonesomeness, senoe little Wesley went I Of course the clock don't tick no louder than it ust to doTit now they's times it 'pears like it 'u'd bust itself in-two f And, let a rooster, suddeot like, crow som'ers oWt around, And seems 's ef, mighty nigh it, it 'u'd lift me off the ground t And same with all the cattle when they bawl around the ban, la the red o' early mornin', er the dusk and dew and start, When the neighbors' boys 'at passes never stop, but jes go on, A'whistlin' kind o' to theirae'v's— sence little Wesley 's gone I And then, o' nights when Mother's tsttio' up onoommon late, A-bilin' pears er somepin, and I set and smoke and wait, Tell the moon out through the winder don't look bigger'n a dime. And things keep gittin' stiller— stiller— stiller all the time— Ive ketched myse'f a-wishin' like— as I dumb on the cheer To wind the clock, as I have done for more'n fifty year*— » A-whishin' 'at the time hed oome fer us to go to bed, With our last prayers, and our last tears, sauce little Wesley 's deadl — Janet Whiioomb Riley, in the CmUury Magaeine.