I got some varses now that I wish you'd show to her, ef you think they won't do her no harm, you know, and I don't 'low they will.

Good-by, Mr.Charlton.

Comin' down to sleep on your claim?
Land's a-comin' into market down thar." After the Poet left him, Albert took the verses into the house and read them, and gave them to Katy.

The first stanza was, if I remember it rightly, something of this sort: "A angel come inter the poar trapper's door, The purty feet tromped on the rough puncheon floor, Her lovely head slep' on his prairie-grass piller-- The cabin is lonesome and the trapper is poar, He hears little shoes a-pattin' the floor; He can't sleep at night on that piller no more; His Hoosier harp hangs on the wild water-willer!".