HKB
I wondered Why she had no companion. Was she married? Was husband waiting her, at Skagway?--well I fancied something of the sort, at last, And as I said, gave up.
But on a morning I rose to see the sun rise, all the sky First as a giant pansy, petals flung In violet toward the zenith streaked with fire; The silver of the snows change under light, Mottled with shadows of the mountain tops Like leaves that shadow, flutter on a lawn. At last the topaz splendors shoot to heaven, The sun just peeks and gilds the porcelain Of snow with purest gold. And in the valleys Darkness remains, Orician ebony Is not more black. You've seen this too, I know, And recognize my picture. There I stood, Believed I was alone, then heard a voice, "Is it not beautiful?" and looked around, And saw my girl, who had avoided me, Would not make friends before. This is her picture, Name, Elenor Murray. So the matter started. I had my seat at table changed and sat Next to my girl to talk with her. We walked The deck together. Then she said to me Her home was in Chicago, so it is Travelers abroad discover they are neighbors When they are home. She had been teaching school, And saved her money for this trip, had planned To go as far as Fairbanks. As for me, I thought I'd stop with Skagway--Oh this life! Your hat blows off, you chase it, bump a woman, Then beg her pardon, laugh and get acquainted, And marry later.
As we steamed along She was the happiest spirit on the deck. The Wrangell Narrows almost drove her wild, There where the mountains are like circus tents, Big show, menagerie and all the rest, But white as cotton with perennial snow. We swum past aisles of pine trees where a stream Rushed down in terraces of hoary foam. The nights were glorious. We drank and ate And danced when there was dancing.
Well, at first, She seemed a little school ma'am, quaint, demure, Meticulous and puritanical. And then she seemed a school ma'am out to have A time, so far away, where none would know, And like a woman who had heard of life And had a teasing interest in its wonder, Too long caged up. At last my vision blurred: I did not know her, lost my first impressions Amid succeeding phases which she showed.
But when we came to Skagway, then I saw Another Elenor Murray. How she danced And tripped from place to place--such energy! She almost wore me out with seeing sights. But now behold! The White Pass she must see Upon the principle of missing nothing-- But oh the grave of "Soapy" Smith, the outlaw, The gambler and the heeler, that for her! We went four miles and found the cemetery, The grave of "Soapy" Smith.--Came back to town Where she would see the buildings where they played Stud poker, Keno, in the riotous days. Time came for her to go. She looked at me And said "Come on to Fairbanks." As for that, I'd had enough, was ready to return, But sensed an honorarium, so I said, "You might induce me," with a pregnant tone. That moment we were walking 'cross the street, She stopped a moment, shook from head to heels, And said, "No man has talked to me that way." I dropped the matter. She renewed it--said, "Why do you hurry back? What calls you back? Come on to Fairbanks, see the gardens there, That tag the blizzards with their rosy hands And romp amid the snows." She smiled at me. Well, then I thought--why not? And smiled her back, And on we went to Fairbanks, where my hat Blows off, as I shall tell you.