Read "An Angel" by Kate Simpson Hayes online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Th' angils ain't all up in Heaven. / Not by a long shot. Say, / Ther's angils a-livin' an' breathin' / Right here in th' camp to-day. / An' th' crown of one, I kin tell ye / Is on'y a tangle of hair, / But the halo that lingers around it / Is brighter than any up There. / One of her laigs goes a-limpin', / Her langwige ain't grammar of books, / An' she ain't airned th' title "A Angil" / Along of her beauty of looks; / 'Nless y' saw her as I did -- -- / 'Nless y' saw her, like me, / Le'p int' hell-flame f'r t' rescue / Th' baby of drunken Magee.
Magee in th' cellar was hootchin'; / Th' gal was a-sloppin' at chores, / Washin' bottles an' kegs f'r th' bar-man, / Slingin' cocktails ahind th' baize-doors. / Of a suddent a wild cry of "F-i-r-e," come / With a lick o' th' flame, left an' right; / The boozers they scooted f'r safety / An' th' baby was left in th' fright. / One wild cry above th' fierce cracklin' -- -- / A yell of despair in the din: / "My BABY! O, GOD, SEND AN ANGEL!" / He did. And the Angel went in / While us men stood a-shakin' an' shame-faced; / The manhood in us not quite dead -- -- / We was drunk -- dazed with horror an' whisky / 'R we'd foller'd th' gal where she led / Into that hell-gate of red flame -- -- / Int' th' whirl of th' fire; / And we all held our bre'th, knowin' well it was death / Come a-nigher an' nigher.