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YOU didn't know Billy, did you ?  Well, Bill was
   One of the boys,
The greatest fellow you ever seen to racket an' raise
   a noise,--
An' sing! say, you never heard singing 'nless you
   heard Billy sing.
I used to say to him, " Billy, that voice that  you've
   got there'd bring
A mighty sight more bank-notes to tuck away in
   your vest,
If only you'd go on the concert stage instead of a-
   ranchin' West."
An' Billy he'd jist go laughin', and say as I didn't 
   know
A robin's whistle in springtime from a barnyard
   rooster's crow.
But Billy could sing, an' I sometimes think that voice
   lives anyhow,--
That perhaps Bill helps with the music in the place
   he's gone to now.
He was going' acrost the plain to catch the train for 
   the East next day.

'Twas the only time I ever seen poor Bill that he
   didn't laugh
Or sing, an' kick up a rumpus an' racket around,
   and chaff,
For he'd got a letter from his folds that siad for to
   hurry home,
For his mother was dyin' away down East an' she
   wanted Bill to come.
Say, but the feller took it hard, but he saddled up
   right away,
An' started across the plains to take the train for
   the East, next day.
Sometimes I lie awake a-nights jist a-thinkin's of
   the rest,
For that was the great big blizzard day, when the 
   wind come down from west,
An' the snow piled up like mountains an' we couldn't 
   put foot outside,
But jist set into the shack an' talked of Bill on his
   lonely ride.
We talked of the laugh he threw us as he went at
   the break o' day,
An' we talked of the poor old woman dyin' a thou-
   sand mile away.

Well, Dan O'Connell an' I went out to search at the
   end of the week,
Fer all of us fellers thought a lot,--a lot that we
   darsn't speak.
We'd been up the trail about forty mile, an' was
   talkin' of turnin' back,
But Dan, well, he wouldn't give in, so we kep' right
   on to the railroad track.
As soon as we sighted them telegraph wires says
   Dan, " Say, bless my soul !
Ain't that there Bill's red handkerchief tied half
   way up that pole ? "
Yes, sir, there she was, with her ends a-flippin'
   an' flyin' in the wind,
An' underneath was the envelope of Bill's letter
   tightly pinned.

" Why, he must a-boarded the train right here,"
   says Dan, but I kinder knew
That underneath them snowdrifts we would find a 
   thing or two ;
Fer he'd writ on that there paper, " Ben lost fer
   hours,--all hope is past.
You'll find me, boys, where my handkerchief is
   flyin' at half-mast."