<p>One Who Married Above Him</p><p>‘’Tis you, I think? Back from your week’s work, Steve?’</p><p>‘It is I. Back from work this Christmas Eve.’</p><p>‘But you seem off again? – in this night-rime?’</p><p>‘I am off again, and thoroughly off this time.’</p><p>‘What does that mean?’</p><p>‘More than may first be seen. . . .</p><p>Half an hour ago I footed homeward here, No wife found I, nor child, nor maid, indoors or near. She has, as always, gone with them to her mother’s at the farm, Where they fare better far than here, and, maybe, meet less harm. She’s left no fire, no light, has cooked me nothing to eat, Though she had fuel, and money to get some Christmas meat. Christmas with them is grand, she knows, and brings good victual, Other than how it is here, where it’s but lean and little. But though not much, and rough, If managed neat there’s enough. She and hers are too highmade for me; But she’s whimmed her once too often, she’ll see! Farmer Bollen’s daughter should never have married a man that’s poor; And I can stand it no longer; I’m leaving; you’ll see me no more, be sure.’</p><p>‘But nonsense: you’ll be back again ere bedtime, and lighting a fire, And sizzling your supper, and vexing not that her views of supper are higher.’</p><p>‘Never for me.’</p><p>‘Well, we shall see.’</p><p>The sceptical neighbour and Stephen then followed their foredesigned ways, And their steps dimmed into white silence upon the slippery glaze; And the trees went on with their spitting amid the icicled haze.</p><p>The evening whiled, and the wife with the babies came home, But he was not there, nor all Christmas Day did he come.</p><p>Christmastide went, and likewise went the New Year, But no husband’s footfall revived, And month after month lapsed, graytime to green and to sere, And other new years arrived, And the children grew up: one husbanded and one wived. – She wept and repented, But Stephen never relented. And there stands the house, and the sycamore-tree and all, With its roots forming steps for the passers who care to call, And there are the mullioned windows, and Ham-Hill door, Through which Steve’s wife was brought out, but which Steve re-entered no more.</p>