Page:Poems Angier.djvu/37

In her trained fingers many a dress has grown
From scanty pattern, which fact, if not known,

Would make the wearer own the magic skill
Which could, from almost nothing, at her will,
Evolve a Sunday gown, with "pieces good to mend,"
In case this wondrous garment chanced to rend.

She met life's changes with undaunted heart.
With customs old and tried would seldom part;
But fifty cents a day would she receive,
Though on it many said they could not live.

I say she abjured changes, could not stand
The thought of railroad passing through her land;
Yet freely did she yield the cherished right
That no one else should suffer, though she might.

Had this good dame been selfish, ne'er would she
Have shared the treasures of that apple-tree,
Which for a hundred years, beside her door,
Did on the ground its golden treasures pour.

That old tree stood apart, no friendly neighbor near—
For others leaved and blossomed, year by year;