Show JIMS STORY I 1 tell you plain tf I 1 doat try to brace myself right irm ill cry soft wind and this haze and sun and the gold and red that melt and and splash the bills an 1 she not her to oay things about the dying yearl tell you oh 1 see they called her dora all but me for she was a delicate lady born aud I 1 well I 1 was buskin corn so 1 called her miss she was here for the country air the heft of the year sometimes shed alt out under a tree and watch the hired man work thata mei but she pot BO arall alko along la the fall that pho weigh kotbin wraps and and the women folks got me to lend a band mo in her out in the sun to be tanned what they eaid but she beem to care about bokin just wanted to dream and look at the foliage gold and red on the hills and talk about abeln dead cheerful well co not exactly that but i used to potter around where abo eat just her sort of under the rim of my bat an ched call me biml ever have that acelin well I 1 never camrod ej a girl that wag well but if id dared ic a told her how it mado me thrill when stole a look at her so still and holdin the red leaves in her bands some song about lotu lands some p ico where ita always afternoon ii a voice that was soft and sweet as a tune ami io 1 just from under the rim of my hat son 0 shed call me biml chat kind of girls aint fer such as ma nor fer casca fera I 1 can see arr they alm breci into a hired mans heart when the turn red and brown barra part and then i lien it knows and b eldies are lead and ils still in the house you fonow chos daud ive no likht to murmur bat somehow yet try as as I 1 may 1 can never forget how I 1 thrilled when hand touched my arm and now when the trees are red on aba farm sometimes I 1 listen from under the rim of my bat sort 0 shed called ma H S tomer in chicago |