Raising the Girl Right, Part I
Prentice Haines was the son of wealth,
the youngest of a brood of nine.
At sixteen he fled from Boston town
for the rugged life of western climes,
trapping fur took up his time.
Before a year passed he’d married a squaw,
his wife in fact, if not in law.
A daughter came quick, he named her Nell,
Bbt fate followed with darkness in store.
His wife Feathered Dove died of a fever
a year after sweet Nell was born,
but Prent had little time to mourn.
His daughter knew not that her ma was gone,
so Prent lived for her, Prent soldiered on.
Three years passed swiftly, one sunny noon
Pent and Nell walked into Sally’s case.
She gave them a smile, she always did,
then with sweet Nell did she play.
Sally was always in a happy way.
For four years since her husband died
she’d been running this place and getting by.
While Nell ran about, Prent said to Sal:
“I’m thinking of heading back east.
Time to think about schooling for Nell,
someone who womanly manners can teach.
And I suppose a new wife I should seek.”
Sally, she smiled, teeth white as pearls,
Aad said,”Not just in Boston can you find a girl.”
But Prent didn’t hear her, so lost in his mind,
Saying,”Yep, I think she will need a good school.
Being a half-breed will be troublesome enough,
can’t let her grow up just another fool.
Can’t fall short by my little jewel.
But Sally take my thanks, before I go,
for watching over her, while I trapped in the snow.”
She smiled sadly at that, then she explained:
“Watching Nelly was truly a pleasure.
She’s a wonderful girl, and I see clearly
why her father calls her his treasure.”
She bade them both good-bye forever.
At the station next day, early came
the long, hissing snake that was their train.
Across half the continent they went,
sweet Nell’s face glued to the window,
seeing prairie, farm, hills, and town
Aa along the tracks they’d go.
For Nell it really was quite a show.
And finally, the chugging train pulled on in,
blowing its great whistle at Boston’s station.
Prent knocked on the door to his parent’s house,
waiting until he heard some footsteps.
The door swung open, revealing the maid
so shocked that she looked pale as death.
She called out the name ‘Annabeth.’
A minute went by and his sister appeared,
oldest of the Haines children in years...
CONTINUES IN PART II.
Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2017
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