"Beyond the Blue" by E. Pauline Johnson
was far too sound
To go back on a fellow just because he weren't
around.
Why, sir, he thought a lot of you, and only three
months back
Says he, "The Squire will some time come a-snuffing
out our track
And give us the surprise." And so I got to thinking
then
That any day you might drop down on
Andgve And so Igot to thinking on Rove, and
me, and Ben.
And now you've come for nothing, for the lad has
left us two,
And six long weeks ago, sir, he went up beyond the
blue.
Who's Rove? Oh, he's the collie, and the only
thing on earth
That I will ever love again. Why, Squire, that dog
is worth
More than you ever handled, and that's quite a
piece, I know.
Ah, there the beggar is!—you scalaway!
and show
Your broken leg all bandaged up. Yes, sir, it's
pretty sore;
I did it,—curse me,— and I think I feel the pain far
more
Than him, for somehow I just feel as if I'd been
untrue
To what my brother said before he went beyond
the blue.
You see, the day before he died he says to me,
"Say, Ned,
Be sure you take good care of poor old Rover when
I'm dead,
And maybe he will cheer your lonesome hours up
a bit,
And when he takes to you just see that you're de-
serving it."
Well, Squire, it wasn't any use. I tried, but couldn't
get
The friendship of that collie, for I needed it, you
bet.
I might as well have tried to get the moon to help
me through,
For Rover's heart had gone with Ben, 'way up
beyond the blue.
He never seemed to take to me nor follow me
about,
For all I coaxed and petted, for my heart was
starving out
For want of some companionship,—I thought, if
only he
Would lick my hand or come and put his head aside
my knee,
Perhaps his touch would scatter something of the
gloom away.
But all alone I had to live until there came a day
When, tired of the battle, as you'd have tired too,
I wished to heaven I'd gone with Ben, 'way up
beyond the blue.
One morning I took out Ben's gun, and thought I'd
hunt all day,
And started through the clearing for the bush that
forward lay,
When something made me look around —I scarce
believed my mind—
But, sure enough, the dog was following right close
behind.
A feeling first of joy, and than a sharper, greater
one
Of anger came, at knowing 'twas not me, but Ben's
old gun.
That Rove was after,—well, sir, I just don't mind
telling you,
But I forgot that moment Ben was up beyond the
blue.
Perhaps it was but jealousy—perhaps it was despair,
But I just struck him with the gun and broke the
bone right there;
And then—my very throat seemed choked, for he
began to whine
With pain—God knows how tenderly I took that
dog of mine
Up in my arms, and tore my old red necktie into
bands
To bind the broken leg, while there he lay and licked
my hands;
And though I cursed my soul, it was the brightest
day I knew,
Or even cared to live, since Ben went up beyond
the blue.
I tell you, Squire, I nursed him just as gently as
could be.
And now I'm all the world to him, and he's the
world to me.
Look, sir, at that big, noble soul, right in his faithful
eyes.
The square, forgiving honesty that deep down in
them lies.
Eh, Squire? What's that you say? He's got no
soul? I tell you, then,
He's grander and he's better than the mass of what's
called men;
And I guess he stands a better chance than many of
us do
Of seeing Ben some day again, 'way up beyond the
blue.