The Argosy — page 310: what you’re looking at

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

Betsy and I are Out. 291 And so I have talked with Betsy, and Betsy has talked with me, And we have agreed together, that we shall never agree ; And what is hers shall be hers, and what is mine will be mine, And you'll put that in the agreement, and give it to us to sign. Write on the paper, lawyer—the very first paragraph— Of all the farm and live-stock, that she shall take her half: For she has helped to earn it, through many a weary day, And it’s nothing more than justice that Betsy should have her pay, Give her the house and homestead—a man can go out and roam ; But women are helpless creatures, unless they have their home. And I have always determined, and never failed to say, That Betsy should not want a home, when I was taken away. There’s a little handful of cash that brings in yearly pay ; A few hundred pounds, or so, laid by for a rainy day : It’s safe in the hands of substantial men, and easy to get at; Put in another clause, if you please, and give her half of that. Yes, I see that you smile, sir, at my giving her so much ; I might have made lower terms ; but I take no stock in such. True and fair I married her, when she was blithe and young, And Betsy was always good to me, except that she had her tongue. I then was young as you are, though not so smart, perhaps: For me she threw over a lawyer, and other dandy chaps ; And all of them were flustered, and fairly taken down, And I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town, Once, when I had a fever—lI shall never forget the time— I was not myself, I think, and my hands were like heated lime; Never a minute went by that Betsy was out of sight : She nursed me with tender care, and sat by me day and night. And if ever a house was tidy, and ever rooms were bright, Her house and rooms were always that, no matter how clear the light : No, I do not complain of Betsy, or any of her acts, si Excepting when we’ve quarrelled, and told each other facts. So draw up the draft of the deed, lawyer ; and I’ll go home to-night, And read the agreement to her, and see if she finds it right; And then I’ll see about selling the half of the stock I keep; And out in the world Ill go, alone, and with weary feet. And one thing put in the paper ; it before to me didn’t occur: That when she hears of my death she shall bring me back to her, And lay me under the yew-tree I used to think so blithe When she and I were happy, before we thought of strife. And when she dies herself, I’d ask her to lie by me, And, lying together in silence, we doubtless must agree. And when we meet in Heaven, we’d not perhaps think it queer If we loved each other better, for that we have quarrelled here. CconmicloooKks (S©) an