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_ A sketch of two Poor little Banties,
They died with old age, over twelve years ago,
Poor little Ada Queetie died over thirteen years ago, in 1858.
Poor little Beauty Linna died over twelve years ago, in 1859.
O my Poor deceased little Ada Queetie,
She knew such a sight, and her love and mine,
So deep in our hearts for each other,
The parting of her and her undergoing sickness and death,
O heart rending!
She and I could never part,
Do consider the night I was left,
What I underwent, no tongue could express,
Weeping the whole night through.
Poor little Ada Queetie's sickness and death,
Destroyed my health at an unknown rate,
With my heart breaking and weeping,
I kept fire going night after night, to keep Poor little dear warm,
I kept getting up nights to see how she was,
And see what I could do for her.
Three her last days and nights,
She breathed the breath of life here on earth,
She was taken down very sick, then I was up all night long,
The second night I was up till I was going to fall,
Then I fixed her in her box warm, close by the fire,
Put warm clothes under, over and around,
And left fire burning and lay down, with all my clothes on,
A very little while, and got up and up all the time.
The third night I touched no bed at all,
Poor little heart, she was struck with death at half past eleven o'clock.
She died in my arms at twelve o'clock at night, O heart rending!
I could been heard to the road, from that time till daylight,
No tongue could express my misery of mind.
She had more than common wit,
And more than common love,
Her heart was full of love for me,
O do consider my Poor little heart.
She was my dear and nearest friend, to love and pity me,
And to believe that I was sick,
She spoke to me, and looked at me most all the time,
And could not go from me.
Poor little heart, she used to jump down to the door to go out,
She would look around, and call to me to go with her,
She found I could not go, she would come in again,
She loved her dear friendy so well she could not go out and leave me.
O my dear beloved little heart, she was my own heart within me,
When she was well and I was sick, and made out to sit in my chair,
She knew I was sick, because I didn't say but a very little to her.
She would stand close to me all the time,
And speak to me, I could not take her eyes off my face,
And look as grieved as it her heart must break,
She was so worried for me,
And if I was forced to lay down,
Then she was more worried than ever.
When Poor little heart happened to be out the room,
And I was forced to lay down,
She would come and peek at me, and take on,
As if her heart must break,
And come straight to me and lament my cause,
And would not go from me,
Her feelings was so deeply rooted in her heart for me.
They was brought from Chilmark to New Town,
And remained there one year
For me to get able to take care of them.
And then they was brought to me.
Poor little Ada Queetie,
She used to do everything I told her,
Let it be what it would,
And knew every word I said to her.
If she was as far off as across the room,
And I made signs to her with my fingers,
She knew what it was,
And would spring quick and do it.
If she was far off and I only spoke her name,
She would be sure to run to me quick,
Without wanting anything to eat.
She would do 54 wonderful cunning things,
Poor Sissy would do 39,
They would do part of them without telling,
And do all the rest of them with telling.
I use to dream distressing dreams,
About what was coming to pass,
And awoke making a dreadful noise,
And Poor little Ada Queetie was making a mournful noise,
She was so worried for me,
Then I would speak to her and say: little dear,
Nothing ails you friendy.
Then she would stop and speak a few pretty words to me.
She use to shake my cape, with all her strength and might,
Every time I told her,
They would both put one foot into my hand,
Every time I told them,
They would both scratch my hand, and peck on my cap,
Every time I told them.
When some one used to happen to shut them out the room,
They would take on at a dreadful rate,
I let them straight in, and as soon as the person was gone,
Poor little Ada Queetie would not keep out of my lap,
Squeezing me close up, talking to me,
And Poor little Beauty Linna would not keep off my shoulders,
With her face squeezed close to my face, talking to me,
They was so glad they got back in this room with me,
And I wasn't hurt and carried away.
Consider those dear hearts, that loved me so well,
And depended all on me to be their true friend.
Poor little Beauty Linna, departed this life,
My hands around her by the fire, my heart aching,
I wept steady from that time, till next day,
I took the best of care of her, days and nights,
I did everything could be done,
I did the best I could do,
I sat up nights with her, till it made me very lame,
Then I fixed her in her bed, warm, close by the fire,
Put warm clothes under, over and around,
And left fire burning and lay down with all my clothes on,
And got up very often with her, and sat up as long as I could.
I never took off none of my clothes for 18 days and nights.
Poor little heart, never can call me back no more,
When I go out the room,
She did it as long as she was able,
For eight months after Poor Sissy's decease,
She would not let me go out the room,
Called me straight back, as soon as I went out.
I fed her with a teaspoon in her sickness,
Good milk and nutmeg, and good porridge,
And so I did Poor Sissy.
I made fire days and nights,
To keep Poor Beauty Linna warm,
The day before Poor little dear was taken away,
She opened her eyes and looked me up into my face,
For the last time, O heart melting,
Poor little Beauty Linna,
She could not have the wind to blow on her,
All her last summer through,
She would keep out the wind.
A mournful scene it was to me,
To see their breath depart,
Consider soon my time will come,
And I must follow on.
Anxiety of mind will keep any one up and doing,
If they have a friend sick,
If their own health is very miserable.
No one here on earth can know,
But only them that knows,
How hard it is to undergo trouble and sickness.
When I am taken away,
I must be buried to the east side,
Of my Poor little dears' graves.
Poor little Beauty Linna, she remembered Poor Sissy,
For eight months after Poor Sissy's decease,
I know it by many things.
They would always have the best of good cake,
And best of good wheat, brought from the west.
When they was both alive, and I had fire in the north room,
And it came up too cold for them,
They would go in the east room, and call me to come to them,
They would stand side and side, and look at the fire place, and look at me,
Deaning me to make fire there for them,
Then I would make fire there, and they and I sat down together,
Now they are gone and I am left broken hearted.
When Poor little Ada Queetie
Departed this life,
That was the first cause
Of my seeking for God.
The path of sorrow,
And that path alone,
Leads to the land
Where sorrows are unknown.
The sick, the troubled, God hears when they complain,
And all the sons of grief,
With tender heart, delights to bless,
And love to give relief.
It is not every one that says, Lord, Lord,
That can enter the Kingdom of heaven,
It is them that doeth God's commandments,
In deeds, words, and thoughts,
To human and dumb creatures too,
And love God and hate the evil one. _
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