ANOTHER
BROWNIE BOOK
BY
PALMER COX
PUBLISHED BY
THE CENTURY CO.
NEW-YORK
Copyright, 1890, by THE CENTURY CO.
[CONTENTS.]
THE BROWNIES' SNOW MAN.
When snowdrifts blocked the country roads,
And trees were bending with their loads,
The wind grew mild which had been raw,
And winter yielded to a thaw;
That night the Brownies stood to stare
In wonder on the village square.
Said one, "This plot where drifts now roll
Seems like an acre from the Pole.
I have a scheme which nothing lacks:
Now while the snow so closely packs,
And may be molded in the hand,
We'll build a statue tall and grand
Which here shall stand at morning prime,
To be the wonder of the time."
Another cried, "That suits us all.
To work let every member fall.
When once the task we undertake
Be sure no dwarfish man we'll make;
But one that proudly may look down
On half the buildings in the town.
I know the place where builders keep
Their benches while the snow is deep;
The poles, and ladders too, are there,
To use when working high in air.
While some for these with me will fly,
Let some their hands to snow apply,
And not a feature of the man
Shall be neglected in our plan.
"You know the night, some time ago,
We tramped so far through drifted snow
To ornament with quaint design
The windows of a mansion fine;
And how, on lengthy ladders there
And scaffold swinging in the air,
We worked our brushes with a will
From icy cap to window-sill,
And made the people, great and small,
Believe Jack Frost had done it all?—
To-night we'll work as well, and show
A grand result before we go."
The snow that night was at its best,
And held its shape however pressed;
Like dough beneath the baker's hand
It seemed to answer each demand.
The rolls, when tumbled to and fro,
Increased with every turning, so
First like a cushion on they sped,
Then like a pillow, next, a bed,
Until the snow, adhering there,
Would leave the grass or pebbles bare.
As higher blocks of snow were laid
Still higher scaffolding was made,
And ladders brought to use instead
Of those too short to reach the head.
Thus grew the form from hour to hour;
For Brownies' hands have wondrous power,
And let them turn to what they will
Surprising work will follow still.
Some shaped the legs or smoothed the waist,
Some saw plump arms were rightly placed;
The head was fixed with proper pose,
Well fashioned were both ears and nose.
So close thronged Brownies high and low,
A looker-on would hardly know
What plan or shape the busy band
Of cunning Brownies had in hand.
But plan they had, and deftness too,
As well was seen when they were through.
The rounded form and manly port
Showed modeling of rarest sort,
While charcoal eyes, so well designed
They seemed to read the very mind,
Long icicles for beard and hair,
Were last affixed with taste and care.
And when the poles around the base
Had been returned each to its place,
And every ladder, bench, and board
They had in use, again was stored,
The Brownies stood around awhile
To gaze upon their work and smile.
Each points at head, or hand, or toe,
His special handiwork to show.
In truth, they had good reason there
With joy and pride to stand and stare,
And contemplate the object white
Which loomed above to such a height,
And not unlike some hero old,
For courage famed, or action bold,
With finger pointed out, as though,
To indicate the coming foe.
But morning light soon came to chase
The Brownies to their hiding-place.
And children on their way to school
Forgot their lessons and the rule
While gazing on the statue tall
That seemed to guard the County Hall.
And after drifts had left the square,
When roads and shingle-roofs were bare,
The Brownies' statue, like a tower,
Still bravely faced both wind and shower—
Though sinking slowly all the while,
And losing corpulence and style,
Till gardeners, on the first of May,
With shovels pitched the man away.
THE BROWNIES IN THE ACADEMY.
The Brownies once with capers spry
To an Academy drew nigh,
Which, founded by a generous hand,
Spread light and learning through the land.
The students, by ambition fired,
And men of science had retired;
So Brownies, through their mystic power,
Now took advantage of the hour.
A battery was soon displayed,
And strange experiments were made;
Electric currents were applied
To meadow-frogs they found inside,
Which sage professors, nights and days,
Had gathered up, in various ways.
To making pills some turned the mind,
While some to Dentistry inclined,
And aching teeth, both small and large,
Were there extracted free of charge.
More gazed where phrenologic charts
Showed heads partitioned off in parts.
Said one: "Let others knowledge gain
Through which to conquer ache and pain,
But by these charts I'll do my best
To learn where Fancy makes her nest."
Another cried, as he surveyed
The bumps that were so well arrayed:
"These heads exhibit, full and clear,
Which one to love and whom to fear;
Who is with noble thoughts inspired,
And who with hate or envy fired;
The man as timid as the hare,
The man destructive as the bear.
While choosing partners, one may find
It well to keep these charts in mind."
A microscope at length, they found;
And next, the Brownies gathered round
A stereopticon machine
That cast its rays upon a screen.
A thousand times it magnified,
Till, stretching out on every side,
An object large and larger spread,
And filled the gazing group with dread.
The locust, beetle, and the bee
Soon gained proportions strange to see,
And seemed like monsters close at hand
To put an end to all the band.
Ere long a door was open swung,
To show some skeletons that hung
From hook and peg, which caused a shout
Of fear to rise from those about.
Said one: "Thus Science works its way
Through old remains from day to day;
And those who during life could find
No time, perhaps, to aid mankind,
May, after all, in some such place
For years assist the human race
By giving students, as you see,
Some knowledge of Anatomy."
At other times, all breathless grouped
O'er crucibles, the Brownies stooped
To separate, with greatest skill,
The grains which cure from those that kill;
While burning acids, blazes blue,
And odors strong confused the crew.
Cried one: "Through trials hard to bear,
The student must himself prepare,
Though mixing paint, or mixing pill—
Or mixing phrases, if you will—
No careless study satisfies
If one would to distinction rise;
The minds that shed from pole to pole
The light of years, as round we roll,
Are first enriched through patient toil,
And kindled by the midnight oil."
Thus, spicing logic with a joke,
They chatted on till morning broke;
And then with wild and rapid race
The Brownie band forsook the place.
THE BROWNIES IN THE ORCHARD.
HE autumn nights began to fill
The mind with thoughts of winter chill,
When Brownies in an orchard met,
Where ripened fruit was hanging yet.
Said one, "The apples here, indeed,
Must now be mellow to the seed;
And, ere another night, should be
Removed at once from every tree.
For any evening now may call
The frost to nip and ruin all."
Another quickly answer made:
"This man is scarcely worthy aid;
'Tis said his harsh and cruel sway
Has turned his children's love away.
"If this be true, 't would serve him right"
If frost should paint his orchard white."
"It matters not who owns the place,
Or why neglect thus shows its face,"
A third replied; "the fact is clear
That fruit should hang no longer here.
If worthy people here reside
Then will our hands be well applied;
And if unworthy folks we serve,
Still better notice we'll deserve."
"You speak our minds so full and fair,"
One loudly cried, "that speech we'll spare.
But like the buttons on your back,
We'll follow closely in your track,
And do our part with willing hand,
Without one doubting if or and."
Kind deeds the Brownies often do
Unknown to me as well as you;
The wounded hare, by hunters maimed,
Is sheltered and supplied and tamed.
The straying cat they sometimes find
Half-starved, and chased by dogs unkind,
And bring it home from many fears
To those who mourned its loss with tears.
And to the bird so young and bare,
With wings unfit to fan the air,
That preying owls had thought to rend
The Brownie often proves a friend.
Then bags and baskets were brought out
From barns and buildings round about,
With kettles, pans, and wooden-ware,
That prying eyes discovered there;
Nay, even blankets from the beds,
The pillow-slips, and table-spreads
Were in some manner brought to light
To render service through the night.
If there's a place where Brownies feel
At home with either hand or heel,
And seem from all restrictions free,
That place is in a branching tree.
At times, with balance fair and fine
They held their stations in a line;
At times, in rivalry and pride
To outer twigs they scattered wide;
And oft with one united strain
They shook the tree with might and main,
Till, swaying wildly to and fro,
It rocked upon the roots below.
So skilled at climbing were they all
The sum of accidents was small:
Some hats were crushed, some heads were sore,
Some backs were blue, ere work was o'er;
For hands will slip and feet will slide,
And boughs will break and forks divide,
And hours that promise sport sublime
May introduce a limping time.
So some who clambered up the tree
With ready use of hand and knee,
Found other ways they could descend
Than by the trunk, you may depend.
The startled birds of night came out
And watched them as they moved about;
Concluding thieves were out in force
They cawed around the place till hoarse.
But birds, like people, should be slow
To judge before the facts they know;
For neither tramps nor thieves were here,
But Brownies, honest and sincere,
Who worked like mad to strip the trees
Before they felt the morning breeze.
And well they gauged their task and time,
For ere the sun commenced to prime
The sky with faintest tinge of red
The Brownies from the orchard fled,
While all the fruit was laid with care
Beyond the reach of nipping air.
THE
BROWNIES'
YACHT-RACE.
HEN fleets of yachts were sailing round
The rippling bay and ruffled sound,
And steering out where Neptune raves,
To try their speed in rougher waves,
The Brownies from a lofty place
Looked out upon the novel race.
Said one: "A race is under way.
They'll start from somewhere in the bay,
To leave the frowning forts behind,
And Jersey headlands, as you'll find,
And sail around, as I surmise,
The light-ship that at anchor lies.
All sails are spread, the masts will bend,
For some rich prize they now contend—
A golden cup or goblet fine,
Or punch-bowl of antique design."
Another said: "To-night, when all
Have left the boats, we'll make a call,
And boldly sail a yacht or two
Around that ship, as people do.
If I can read the signs aright
That nature shows 'twill be a night
When sails will stretch before the blast,
And not hang idly round the mast."
So thus they talked, and plans they laid,
And waited for the evening shade.
And when the lamps in city square
And narrow street began to glare,
The Brownies ventured from their place
To find the yachts and sail their race.
In equal numbers now the band,
Divided up, the vessels manned.
Short time they wasted in debate
Who should be captain, cook, or mate;
But it was settled at the start
That all would take an active part,
And be prepared to pull and haul
If trouble came in shape of squall.
For in the cunning Brownie crowd
No domineering is allowed;
All stand alike with equal power,
And friendly feeling rules the hour.
The Brownies' prophecy was true.
That night the wind increased and blew,
And dipped the sails into the wave,
And work to every Brownie gave;
Not one on board but had to clew,
Or reef, or steer, or something do.
Sometimes the yachts ran side by side
A mile or more, then parted wide,
Still tacking round and shifting sail
To take advantage of the gale.
Sometimes a sloop beyond control
At random ran, or punched a hole
Clean through her scudding rival's jibs,
Or thumped her soundly on the ribs.
Of Brownies there were two or three
Who tumbled headlong in the sea,
While they performed some action bold,
And failed to keep a proper hold.
At first it seemed they would be lost;
For here and there they pitched and tossed,
Now on the crests of billows white,
Now in the trough, clear out of sight,
But all the while with valiant heart
Performing miracles of art.
Some life-preservers soon were thrown;
And ready hands let sails alone,
And turned to render aid with speed
To those who stood so much in need.
But accident could not displace
Or weaken interest in the race;
And soon each active Brownie stood
Where he could do the greatest good;
It mattered not if shifting sail,
Or at the helm, or on the rail.
With arm to arm and hip to hip,
They lay in rows to trim the ship.
All hands were anxious to succeed
And prove their yachts had greatest speed.
But though we sail, or though we ride,
Or though we sleep, the moments glide;
And none must bear this fact in mind
More constantly than Brownie kind.
For stars began to lose their glow
While Brownies still had miles to go.
Said one, who scanned the eastern sky
With doubtless an experienced eye:
"We'll crowd all sail, for fear the day
Will find us still upon the bay—
Since it would prove a sad affair
If morning light should find us there."
But when the winds began to fail
And lightly pressed the flapping sail,
It was determined by the band
To run their yachts to nearest land,
So they could reach their hiding-place
Before the sun revealed his face.
By happy chance a cove they reached
Where high and dry the boats were beached,
And all in safety made their way
To secret haunts without delay.
THE BROWNIES AT ARCHERY.
One night the Brownies strayed around
A green and level stretch of ground,
Where young folk oft their skill displayed
At archery, till evening's shade.
The targets standing in the park,
With arrows resting in the mark,
Soon showed the cunning Brownie band
The skill of those who'd tried a hand.
A few in outer rings were fast,
Some pierced the "gold," and more had passed
Without a touch, until they sank
In trunk of tree or grassy bank.
Said one: "On page and parchment old,
The story often has been told,
How men of valor bent the bow
To spread confusion through the foe.
And even now, in later times
(As travelers find in distant climes),
Some savage tribes on plain and hill
Can make it interesting still."
Another spoke: "A scene like this,
Reminds me of that valiant Swiss,
Who in the dark and trying hour
Revealed such nerve and matchless power,
And from the head of his brave son
The apple shot, and freedom won!
While such a chance is offered here,
We'll find the bows that must be near,
And as an hour or two of night
Will bring us 'round the morning light,
We'll take such targets as we may,
To safer haunts, some miles away.
Then at our leisure we can shoot
At bull's-eyes round or luscious fruit,
Till like the Swiss of olden time,
With steady nerves and skill sublime,
Each one can split an apple fair
On every head that offers there."
Now buildings that were fastened tight
Against the prowlers of the night,
At the wee Brownies' touch and call
Soon opened and surrendered all.
So some with bulky targets strode,
That made for eight or ten a load.
And called for engineering skill
To steer them up or down the hill;
Some carried bows of rarest kind,
That reached before and trailed behind.
The English "self-yew" bow was there,
Of nicest make and "cast" so rare,
Well tipped with horn, the proper thing,
With "nocks," or notches, for the string.
Still others formed an "arrow line"
That bristled like the porcupine.
When safe within the forest shade,
The targets often were displayed.
At first, however near they stood,
Some scattered trouble through the wood.
The trees were stripped of leaves and bark,
With arrows searching for the mark.
The hares to other groves withdrew,
And frighted birds in circles flew.
But practice soon improves the art
Of all, however dull or smart;
And there they stood to do their best,
And let all other pleasures rest,
While quickly grew their skill and power,
And confidence, from hour to hour.
When targets seemed too plain or wide,
A smaller mark the Brownies tried.
By turns each member took his stand
And risked his head to serve the band.
For volunteers would bravely hold
A pumpkin till in halves it rolled;
And then a turnip, quince, or pear,
Would next be shot to pieces there;
Till not alone the apples flew
In halves before their arrows true,
But even plums and cherries too.
For Brownies, as we often find,
Can soon excel the human kind,
And carry off with effort slight
The highest praise and honors bright.
THE BROWNIES FISHING.
HEN glassy lakes and streams about
Gave up their bass and speckled trout,
The Brownies stood by water clear
As shades of evening gathered near.
Said one: "Now country lads begin
To trim the rod and bend the pin
To catch the frogs and minnows spry
That in the brooks and ditches lie.
While city chaps with reels come down,
And line enough to gird the town,
And flies of stranger shape and hue
Than ever Mother Nature knew—
With horns like crickets, tails like mice,
And plumes like birds of Paradise.
Thus well prepared for sunny sky
Or cloudy weather, wet or dry,
They take the fish from stream and pool
By native art and printed rule."
Another said: "With peeping eyes
I've watched an angler fighting flies,
And thought, when thus he stood to bear
The torture from those pests of air,
There must indeed be pleasure fine
Behind the baited hook and line.
Now, off like arrows from the bow
In search of tackle some must go;
While others stay to dig supplies
Of bait that anglers highly prize,—
Such kind as best will bring the pout
The dace, the chub, and 'shiner' out;
While locusts gathered from the grass
Will answer well for thorny bass."
Then some with speed for tackle start,
And some to sandy banks depart,
And some uplift a stone or rail
In search of cricket, grub, or snail;
While more in dewy meadows draw
The drowsy locust from the straw.
Nor is it long before the band
Stands ready for the sport in hand.
It seemed the time of all the year
When fish the starving stage were near:
They rose to straws and bits of bark,
To bubbles bright and shadows dark,
And jumped at hooks, concealed or bare,
While yet they dangled in the air.
Some Brownies many trials met
Almost before their lines were wet;
For stones below would hold them fast,
And limbs above would stop the cast,
And hands be forced to take a rest,
At times when fish were biting best.
Some stumbled in above their boots,
And others spoiled their finest suits;
But fun went on; for many there
Had hooks that seemed a charm to bear,
And fish of various scale and fin
On every side were gathered in.
The catfish left his bed below,
With croaks and protests from the go;
And nerve as well as time it took
From such a maw to win the hook.
With horns that pointed every way,
And life that seemed to stick and stay,
Like antlered stag that stands at bay,
He lay and eyed the Brownie band,
And threatened every reaching hand.
The gamy bass, when playing fine,
Oft tried the strength of hook and line,
And strove an hour before his mind
To changing quarters was resigned.
Some eels proved more than even match
For those who made the wondrous catch,
And, like a fortune won with ease,
They slipped through fingers by degrees,
And bade good-bye to margin sands,
In spite of half a dozen hands.
The hungry, wakeful birds of air
Soon gathered 'round to claim their share,
And did for days themselves regale
On fish of every stripe and scale.
Thus sport went on with laugh and shout,
As hooks went in and fish came out,
While more escaped with wounded gill,
And yards of line they're trailing still;
But day at length began to break,
And forced the Brownies from the lake.
THE BROWNIES AT NIAGARA FALLS.
HE Brownies' Band, while passing through
The country with some scheme in view,
Paused in their race, and well they might,
When broad Niagara came in sight.
Said one: "Give ear to what I say,
I've been a traveler in my day;
I've waded through Canadian mud
To Montmorenci's tumbling flood.
But ah! Niagara is the fall
That truly overtops them all—
The children prattle of its tide,
And age repeats its name with pride
The school-boy draws it on his slate,
The preacher owns its moral weight;
The tourist views it dumb with awe,
The Indian paints it for his squaw,
And tells how many a warrior true
Went o'er it in his bark canoe,
And never after friend or foe
Got sight of man or boat below."
Another said: "The Brownie Band
Upon the trembling brink may stand,
Where kings and queens have sighed to be,
But dare not risk themselves at sea."
Some played along the shelving ledge
That beetled o'er the river's edge;
Some gazed in meditation deep
Upon the water's fearful leap;
Some went below, to crawl about
Behind the fall, that shooting out
Left space where they might safely stand
And view the scene so wild and grand.
Some climbed the trees of cedar kind,
That o'er the rushing stream inclined,
To find a seat, to swing and frisk
And bend the boughs at fearful risk;
Until the rogues could dip and lave
Their toes at times beneath the wave.
Still more and more would venture out
In spite of every warning shout.
At last the weight that dangled there
Was greater than the tree could bear.
And then the snapping roots let go
Their hold upon the rocks below,
And leaping out away it rode
Upon the stream with all its load!
Then shouts that rose above the roar
Went up from tree-top, and from shore,
When it was thought that half the band
Was now forever leaving land.
It chanced, for reasons of their own,
Some men around that tree had thrown
A lengthy rope that still was strong
And stretching fifty feet along.
Before it disappeared from sight,
The Brownies seized it in their might,
And then a strain for half an hour
Went on between the mystic power
Of Brownie hands united all,
And water rushing o'er the fall.
But true to friends the
Brownies strained,
And inch by inch the tree was gained.
Across the awful bend it passed
With those in danger clinging fast,
And soon it reached the rocky shore
With all the Brownies safe once more.
And then, as morning showed her face,
The Brownies hastened from the place.
THE BROWNIES' GARDEN.
NE night, as spring began to show
In buds above and blades below,
The Brownies reached a garden square
That seemed in need of proper care.
Said one, "Neglected ground like this
Must argue some one most remiss,
Or beds and paths would here be found
Instead of rubbish scattered round.
Old staves, and boots, and woolen strings,
With bottles, bones, and wire-springs,
Are quite unsightly things to see
Where tender plants should sprouting be.
This work must be progressing soon,
If blossoms are to smile in June."
A second said, "Let all give heed:
On me depend to find the seed.
For, thanks to my foreseeing mind,
To merchants' goods we're not confined.
Last autumn, when the leaves grew sere
And birds sought regions less severe,
One night through gardens fair I sped,
And gathered seeds from every bed;
Then placed them in a hollow tree,
Where still they rest. So trust to me
To bring supplies, while you prepare
The mellow garden-soil with care."
Another cried, "While some one goes
To find the shovels, rakes, and hoes,
That in the sheds are stowed away,
We'll use this plow as best we may.
Our arms, united at the chain,
Will not be exercised in vain,
But, as if colts were in the trace,
We'll make it dance around the place.
I know how deep the share should go,
And how the sods to overthrow.
So not a patch of ground the size
Of this old cap, when flat it lies,
But shall attentive care receive,
And be improved before we leave."
Then some to guide the plow began,
Others the walks and beds to plan.
And soon they gazed with anxious eyes
For those who ran for seed-supplies.
But, when they came, one had his say,
And thus explained the long delay:
"A woodchuck in the tree had made
His bed just where the seeds were laid.
We wasted half an hour at least
In striving to dislodge the beast;
Until at length he turned around,
Then, quick as thought, without a sound,
And ere he had his bearings got,
The rogue was half across the lot."
Then seed was sown in various styles,
In circles, squares, and single files;
While here and there, in central parts,
They fashioned diamonds, stars, and hearts,
Some using rake, some plying hoe,
Some making holes where seed should go;
While some laid garden tools aside
And to the soil their hands applied.
To stakes and racks more were assigned,
That climbing-vines support might find.
Cried one, "Here, side by side, will stand
The fairest flowers in the land.
The thrifty bees for miles around
Ere long will seek this plot of ground,
And be surprised to find each morn
New blossoms do each bed adorn.
And in their own peculiar screed
Will bless the hands that sowed the seed."
And while that night they labored there,
The cunning rogues had taken care
With sticks and strings to nicely frame
In line the letters of their name.
That when came round the proper time
For plants to leaf and vines to climb,
The Brownies would remembered be,
If people there had eyes to see.
But morning broke (as break it will
Though one's awake or sleeping still),
And then the seeds on every side
The hurried Brownies scattered wide.
Along the road and through the lane
They pattered on the ground like rain,
Where Brownies, as away they flew,
Both right and left full handfuls threw,
And children often halted there
To pick the blossoms, sweet and fair,
That sprung like daisies from the mead
Where fleeing Brownies flung the seed.
THE BROWNIES' CELEBRATION.
NE night the Brownies reached a mound
That rose above the country round.
Said one, as seated on the place
He glanced about with thoughtful face:
"If almanacs have matters right
The Fourth begins at twelve to-night,—
A fitting time for us to fill
Yon cannon there and shake the hill,
And make the people all about
Think war again has broken out.
I know where powder may be found
Both by the keg and by the pound;
Men use it in a tunnel near
For blasting purposes, I hear.
To get supplies all hands will go,
And when we come we'll not be slow
To teach the folks the proper way
To honor Independence Day."
It was not long till powder came.
Then from the muzzle broke the flame,
And echo answered to the sound
That startled folk for miles around.
'Twas lucky for the Brownies' Band
They were not of the mortal brand,
Or half the crew would have been hurled
In pieces to another world.
For when at last the cannon roared,
So huge the charge had Brownies poured,
The metal of the gun rebelled
And threw all ways the load it held.
The pieces clipped the daisy-heads
And tore the tree-tops into shreds.
But Brownies are not slow to spy
A danger, as are you and I.
For they through strange and mystic art
Observed it as it flew apart,
And ducked and dodged and flattened out,
To shun the fragments flung about.
Some rogues were lifted from their feet
And, turning somersaults complete,
Like leaves went twirling through the air
But only to receive a scare;
And ere the smoke away had cleared
In forest shade they disappeared.
THE BROWNIES IN
THE SWIMMING-SCHOOL.
HILE Brownies passed along the street,
Commenting on the summer's heat
That wrapped the city day and night,
A swimming-bath appeared in sight.
Said one: "Of all the sights we've found,
Since we commenced to ramble round,
This seems to better suit the band
Than anything, however grand.
We'll rest awhile and find our way
Inside the place without delay,
And those who understand the art,
Can knowledge to the rest impart;
For every one should able be,
To swim, in river, lake, or sea.
We never know how soon we may,
See some one sinking in dismay,—
And then, to have the power to save
A comrade from a watery grave,
Will be a blessing sure to give
Us joy the longest day we live."
The doors soon opened through the power
That lay in Brownie hands that hour.
When once within the fun began,
As here and there they quickly ran;
Some up the stairs made haste to go,
Some into dressing-rooms below,
In bathing-trunks to reappear
And plunge into the water clear;
Some from the spring-board leaping fair
Would turn a somersault in air;
More to the bottom like a stone,
Would sink as soon as left alone,
While others after trial brief
Could float as buoyant as a leaf.
Some all their time to others gave
Assisting them to ride the wave,
Explaining how to catch the trick,
Both how to strike and how to kick;
And still keep nose above the tide,
That lungs with air might be supplied.
Thus diving in and climbing out,
Or splashing round with laugh and shout,
The happy band in water played
As long as Night her scepter swayed.
They heard the clocks in chapel towers
Proclaim the swiftly passing hours.
But when the sun looked from his bed
To tint the eastern sky with red,
In haste the frightened Brownies threw
Their clothes about them and withdrew.
THE BROWNIES
AND THE WHALE.
S Brownies chanced at eve to stray
Around a wide but shallow bay,
Not far from shore, to their surprise,
They saw a whale of monstrous size,
That, favored by the wind and tide,
Had ventured in from ocean wide,
But waves receding by-and-by,
Soon left him with a scant supply.
At times, with flaps and lunges strong
He worked his way some yards along,
Till on a bar or sandy marge
He grounded like a leaden barge.
"A chance like this for all the band,"
Cried one, "but seldom comes to hand.
I know the bottom of this bay
Like those who made the coast survey.
'Tis level as a threshing-floor
And shallow now from shore to shore;
That creature's back will be as dry
As hay beneath a tropic sky,
Till morning tide comes full and free
And gives him aid to reach the sea."
"I catch the hint!" another cried;
"Let all make haste to gain his side
Then clamber up as best we may,
And ride him round till break of day."
At once, the band in great delight
Went splashing through the water bright,
And soon to where he rolled about
They lightly swam, or waded out.
Now climbing up, the Brownies tried
To take position for the ride.
Some lying down a hold maintained;
More, losing place as soon as gained,
Were forced a dozen times to scale
The broad side of the stranded whale.
Now half-afloat and half-aground
The burdened monster circled round,
Still groping clumsily about
As if to find the channel out,
And Brownies clustered close, in fear
That darker moments might be near.
And soon the dullest in the band
Was sharp enough to understand
The creature was no longer beached,
But deeper water now had reached.
For plunging left, or plunging right,
Or plowing downward in his might,
The fact was plain, as plain could be—
The whale was working out to sea!
A creeping fear will seize the mind
As one is leaving shores behind,
And knows the bark whereon he sails
Is hardly fit to weather gales.
Soon Fancy, with a graphic sweep,
Portrays the nightmares of the deep;
While they can see, with living eye,
The terrors of the air sweep by.
For who would not a fierce bird dread,
If it came flying at his head?
And these were hungry, squawking things,
With open beaks and flapping wings.
They made the Brownies dodge and dip,
Into the sea they feared to slip.
The birds they viewed with chattering teeth,
Yet dreaded more the foes beneath.
The lobster, with his ready claw;
The fish with sword, the fish with saw;
The hermit-crab, in coral hall,
Averse to every social call;
The father-lasher, and the shrimp,
The cuttle-fish, or ocean imp,
All these increase the landsman's fright,
As shores are fading out of sight.
Such fear soon gained complete command
Of every Brownie in the band.
They looked behind, where fair and green
The grassy banks and woods were seen.
They looked ahead, where white and cold
The foaming waves of ocean rolled,
And then, with woful faces drew
Comparisons between the two.
Some blamed themselves for action rash
Against all reason still to dash
In danger's way, and never think
Until they stood on ruin's brink.
While others threw the blame on those
Who did the risky trip propose.
But meantime deep and deeper still
The whale was settling down until
His back looked like an island small
That scarce gave standing-room to all.
But, when their chance seemed slight indeed
To sport again o'er dewy mead,
The spouting whale, with movement strong,
Ran crashing through some timbers long
That lumbermen had strongly tied
In cribs and rafts, an acre wide.
'Twas then, in such a trying hour,
The Brownies showed their nerve and power.
The diving whale gave little time
For them to choose a stick to climb,—
But grips were strong; no hold was lost,
However high the logs were tossed;
By happy chance the boom remained
That to the nearest shore was chained,
And o'er that bridge the Brownies made
A safe retreat to forest shade.
THE BROWNIES' KITES.
The sun had hardly taken flight
Unto the deepest caves of night;
Or fowls secured a place of rest
Where Reynard's paw could not molest,
When Brownies gathered to pursue
Their plans regarding pleasures new.
Said one: "In spite of hand or string,
Now hats fly round like crows in spring,
Exposing heads to gusts of air,
That ill the slightest draught can bear;
While, high above the tallest tower,
At morning, noon, and evening hour,
The youngsters' kites with streaming tails
Are riding out the strongest gales.
The doves in steeples hide away
Or keep their houses through the day,
Mistaking every kite that flies
For bird of prey of wondrous size."
"You're not alone," another cried,
"In taking note. I, too, have spied
The boys of late, in street and court,
Or on the roofs, at this fine sport;
But yesternight I chanced to see
A kite entangled in a tree.
The string was nowhere to be found;
The tail about a bough was wound.
Some birds had torn the paper out,
To line their nests, in trees about,
But there beside the wreck I staid,
Until I learned how kites are made.
On me you safely may depend,
To show the way to cut and bend.
So let us now, while winds are high,
Our hands at once to work apply;
And from the hill that lifts its crown
So far above the neighboring town,
We'll send our kites aloft in crowds,
To lose themselves among the clouds."
A smile on every face was spread,
At thought of fun like this, ahead;
And quickly all the plans were laid,
And work for every Brownie made.
Some to the kitchens ran in haste,
To manufacture pots of paste.
Some ran for tacks or shingle-nails,
And some for rags to make the tails,
While more with loads of paper came,
Or whittled sticks to make the frame.
The strings, that others gathered, soon
Seemed long enough to reach the moon.
But where such quantities they found,
'Tis not so easy to expound;—
Perhaps some twine-shop, standing nigh,
Was raided for the large supply;
Perhaps some youthful angler whines
About his missing fishing-lines.
But let them find things where they will,
The Brownies must be furnished still;
And those who can't such losses stand,
Will have to charge it to the Band.
With busy fingers, well applied,
They clipped and pasted, bent and tied;
With paint and brush some ran about
From kite to kite, to fit them out.
On some they paint a visage fair,
While others would affright a bear,
Nor was it long (as one might guess
Who knows what skill their hands possess)
Before the kites, with string and tail,
Were all prepared to ride the gale;
And oh, the climax of their glee
Was reached when kites were floating free!
So quick they mounted through the air
That tangling strings played mischief there,
And threatened to remove from land
Some valued members of the band.
The birds of night were horrified
At finding kites on every side,
And netted strings, that seemed to be
Designed to limit action free.
But
Now winding up, now letting out;
Now giving kites more tail or wing,
Now wishing for a longer string;
Until they saw the hints of day
Approaching through the morning gray.