Read the book: «Her Letter, His Answer & Her Last Letter», page 4

HER LAST LETTER

 
June 4th! Do you know what that date means?
June 4th! by this air and these pines!
Well, – only you know how I hate scenes, —
These might be my very last lines!
For perhaps, sir, you'll kindly remember —
If some other things you've forgot —
That you last wrote the 4th of December, —
Just six months ago! – from this spot;
 
 
From this spot, that you said was "the fairest
For once being held in my thought."
Now, really I call that the barest
Of – well, I won't say what I ought!
For here I am back from my "riches,"
My "triumphs," my "tours," and all that;
And you're not to be found in the ditches
Or temples of Poverty Flat!
 
 
From Paris we went for the season
To London, when pa wired, "Stop."
Mamma says "his health" was the reason.
(I've heard that some things took a "drop.")
But she said if my patience I'd summon
I could go back with him to the Flat —
Perhaps I was thinking of some one
Who of me – well – was not thinking that!
 
 
Of course you will say that I "never
Replied to the letter you wrote."
That is just like a man! But, however,
I read it – or how could I quote?
And as to the stories you've heard (No,
Don't tell me you haven't – I know!)
You'll not believe one blessed word, Joe;
But just whence they came, let them go!
 
 
And they came from Sade Lotski of Yolo,
Whose father sold clothes on the Bar —
You called him Job-lotski, you know, Joe,
And the boys said her value was par.
Well, we met her in Paris – just flaring
With diamonds, and lost in a hat!
And she asked me "How Joseph was faring
In his love-suit on Poverty Flat!"
 
 
She thought it would shame me! I met her
With a look, Joe, that made her eyes drop;
And I said that your "love-suit fared better
Than any suit out of their shop!"
And I didn't blush then– as I'm doing
To find myself here, all alone,
And left, Joe, to do all the "suing"
To a lover that's certainly flown.
 
 
In this brand-new hotel, called "The Lily"
(I wonder who gave it that name?),
I really am feeling quite silly,
To think I was once called the same;
And I stare from its windows, and fancy
I'm labeled to each passer-by.