I run out of pockets purty soon.

And her face begun to show she was smelling a rat.

Finally I says: "These ain't my other clothes--it must be in them." "Danny," she says, "I believe you LOST it." "Martha," I says, taking a chancet, "you know you lost YOUR half!" She owns up she has lost it a long while ago.

And when she lost it, she says, she knowed that was fate and that our love was omened in under an evil star.

And who was she, she says, to struggle agin fate?
"Martha," I says, "I'll be honest with you.