Argosy, Vol. 1 (December 9, 1882) — page 184: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

CAN I FORGET? 197 time enough to pack your luggage and take the train back to your Berk- shire home at the earliest possible moment.” * * * * * * . The next day was a warm one in the late fall, and my old friend Hogan called for me with his two wheeler about eleven in the morning. As I| told him to take me around to the Davises’, he remarked: “ Say, Mr. Knowlton, dat Santy’s all right now. He’s in der stable where I keep my rig, and you wouldn’t know him wid the rubbin’ an’ feedin’ I give him.” When Harry was led gently down the front stoop and lifted into the han- som, I said to Hogan with a wink: “ Driver, take us to Mr. Hogan’s stable, where that horse I was telling you about 1s,” and Hogan winked back at me and snapped his whip. The forlorn looking Santy was led out upon the street, and up to our cab, where Harry could reach out and pat him on,the head. And Santy just swished his tail and looked more stupid than ever, but Harry assured me that his faithful animal recognized him completely. I stopped to speak to my friend Hogan the other evening, and told him that Santy has been turned out on Mr. Davis’ New Jersey farm, but I made my faithful ally in the never to be forgotten search for the beast promise me one thing: That, if I should die before he did, he would see to it that one clause in my will was carried out to the letter. Santy should be led out and shot at sunrise over my grave the day after I was buried. I added that that per- formance might in some way compensate me for the agony that I went through in making my dear old Harry a somewhat previous, but, notwith- standing, a most expensive, Christmas present. } CAN I FORGET? Can I forget? The moon was forest high, And made a golden path above the trees ; We sat us down, and there was no sound nigh Except the breeze. ; And so we bode in silence, inly yearning; For neither knew nor dared love’s knowledge yet; But ever unto thine my face was turning— Can I forget? Can I forget? Ah, love, ’twas but a word About some trivial thing that broke the spell ; But what thou saidst, sweetheart, and what I heard, I may not tell. I only know that on my bosom sinking, I feel that sudden, fragrant burden yet, And of thy lips my lips are madly drinking— Can I forget? 12 James Buckham. GORGE OOO @ UN ceo