l6o ONE FOREST-FIRE.
But it s bout little Bennie. You heerd of it? Ay, I can t take it patient, to onct, though I .try.
- * * *
Me and Mary had watched ev ry evenin by turn, Lookin out fur the wind and the chance of a burn. Till the smoke settled down to the ground ev ry whar, We couldn t see sunset, nor make out a star. Little Bennie had gathered a heap on the floor His new Sunday jacket he never had wore, His best bow and arrows, his little old spade, They were all in a bundle so keerfully laid. An Mary had tied up her notions with care ; There was picturs, an Bibles, an dead folks hair, Huddled in with the spoons Mary s grandmother give When we bid her good-bye and come out here to
live.
By m bye, on the edge of the clearin in sight, The smoke it got redder, some sparks seemed to light ; Then the wind fanned it up with a roar like the sea, Until Mary and Bennie looked fearful at me. 1 We must fight it ! " I took off the coat that I wore ; Mary picked up her blanket. We turned from the
door,
Leavin Bennie a-waitin . We told him he must, Till we beat out the fire. Well, he whimpered at
fust;
But when I looked back he was wipin his eyes On his old jacket-sleeve. Then he looked at the
skies,
And I guessed he was sayin his Sunday-school prayer, As he used to o nights kneelin down by a chair.
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