Tag: Ted Robinson

  • A Contrast

    From the Rock Island Argus, April 21, 1915. By Ted Robinson.

    The lips of her were scarlet, and she carried golden hair;
    And wondering eyes like April skies, and simple, violet air.
    Yes, she had cheeks like peaches and the innocent white brow
    Of children who can know no sorrow now—no sorrow—now!

    She had pathetic, faded eyes, and she wore silver hair—
    Her forehead showed the crowsfoot cross of many a carking care;
    She had the slender, blue-veined hands of one whose work was done—
    The dim, sweet smile of happiness, lost long ago—and won!

    And close they sat together in the softened twilight hour—
    The tender opening blossom and the scentless, drooping flower;
    Which of them shall we pity with a philosophic mind—
    The bitter life that’s coming, or the sweet life left behind?

  • The Chauffeur’s Story

    From the Omaha Daily Bee, February 28, 1913.
     By Ted Robinson.
     
    
     “I shudder yet,” the driver said, “whene’er I tell the tale—
     I’ll think of it till I am dead! Its memory turns me pale.
     ’Twas when I drove old Brown’s imported high-power racing car—
     And I was young and reckless—courted all the thrills there are!
     
    
     “Upon the day this occurred, I’d fifty miles to go
     Ere lunch and you can take my word, I wasn’t driving slow.
     The road was good but narrow. A rail fence on either side
     And the car sped like an arrow in a swift and easy glide.
     
    
     “I took the curves at forty miles, then at our highest speed—
     I shot along those forest aisles with just the road to heed—
     When suddenly there stepped into our track a little child
     With golden hair and eyes of blue—just looked at us and smiled!
     
    
     “Not fifty feet ahead was she—and I, too scared to touch
     Or think of the emergency, or e’en throw out the clutch;
     And even when it was too late—no time to turn aside—
     No space, no field, no open gate—the road was ten feet wide!
     
    
     “All these I saw as in a dream—the lassie’s happy face
     One of those moments that will seem to hold a lifetime’s space—
     ’Twas just one smile of innocence—ah, would it be her last?
     And then—she climbed up on the fence and watched me thunder past!”