The Brownies: Their Book

by Palmer Cox

THE BROWNIES' FEAST.

In best of spirits, blithe and free,—
As Brownies always seem to be,—
A jovial band, with hop and leap,
Were passing through a forest deep,
When in an open space they spied
A heavy caldron, large and wide,

Where woodmen, working at their trade, A rustic boiling-place had made. "My friends," said one, "a chance like this No cunning Brownie band should miss, All unobserved, we may prepare And boil a pudding nicely there;

Some dying embers smolder still Which we may soon revive at will; And by the roots of yonder tree A brook goes babbling to the sea. At Parker's mill, some miles below, They're grinding flour as white as snow An easy task for us to bear Enough to serve our need from there:

I noticed, as I passed to-night, A window with a broken light, And through the opening we'll pour Though bolts and bars be on the door." "And I," another Brownie cried, "Will find the plums and currants dried; I'll have some here in half an hour To sprinkle thickly through the flour; So stir yourselves, and bear in mind That some must spice and sugar find."

"I know," cried one, "where hens have made
Their nest beneath the burdock shade—
I saw them stealing out with care
To lay their eggs in secret there.
The farmer's wife, through sun and rain,
Has sought to find that nest in vain:
They cackle by the wall of stones,
The hollow stump and pile of bones,

And by the ditch that lies below, Where yellow weeds and nettles grow; And draw her after everywhere Until she quits them in despair. The task be mine to thither lead A band of comrades now with speed, To help me bear a tender load Along the rough and rugged road." Away, away, on every side, At once the lively Brownies glide; Some after plums, more 'round the hill— The shortest way to reach the mill— While some on wings and some on legs Go darting off to find the eggs.

A few remained upon the spot
To build a fire beneath the pot;
Some gathered bark from trunks of trees,
While others, on their hands and knees,
Around the embers puffed and blew
Until the sparks to blazes grew;
And scarcely was the kindling burned
Before the absent ones returned.
All loaded down they came, in groups,
In couples, singly, and in troops.

Upon their shoulders, heads, and backs
They bore along the floury sacks;
With plums and currants others came,
Each bag and basket filled the same;

While those who gave the hens a call Had taken nest-egg, nest, and all; And more, a pressing want to meet,

From some one's line had hauled a sheet,
The monstrous pudding to infold
While in the boiling pot it rolled.
The rogues were flour from head to feet
Before the mixture was complete.
Like snow-birds in a drift of snow
They worked and elbowed in the dough,
Till every particle they brought
Was in the mass before them wrought.
And soon the sheet around the pile

Was wrapped in most artistic style. Then every plan and scheme was tried To hoist it o'er the caldron's side. At times, it seemed about to fall, Yet none forsook their post through fear, But harder worked with danger near. They pulled and hauled and orders gave, And pushed and pried with stick and stave,

Until, in spite of height and heat,
They had performed the trying feat.

To take the pudding from the pot They might have found as hard and hot. But water on the fire they threw, And then to work again they flew. And soon the steaming treasure sat Upon a stone both broad and flat, Which answered for a table grand, When nothing better was at hand.

Some think that Brownies never eat, But live on odors soft and sweet. That through the verdant woods proceed Or steal across the dewy mead; But those who could have gained a sight Of them, around their pudding white, Would have perceived that elves of air Can relish more substantial fare.

They clustered close, and delved and ate Without a knife, a spoon, or plate; Some picking out the plums with care, And leaving all the pastry there. While some let plums and currants go, But paid attention to the dough. The purpose of each Brownie's mind Was not to leave a crumb behind, That, when the morning sun should shine Through leafy tree and clinging vine,

No traces of their sumptuous feast

It might reveal to And well they gauged When they their For when the rich The rogues could —The miller never For Brownies wield a

man or beast; what all could bear, pudding did prepare; repast was done, neither fly nor run. missed his flour, mystic power;

Whate'er they take they can restore
In greater plenty than before.

---

THE BROWNIES TOBOGGANING One evening, when the snow lay white On level plain and mountain height, The Brownies mustered, one and all, In answer to a special call.

All clustered in a ring they stood Within the shelter of the wood, While earnest faces brighter grew At thought of enterprises new. Said one, "It seems that all the rage, With human kind of every age, Is on toboggans swift to slide Down steepest hill or mountain side. Our plans at once we must prepare,

And try, ourselves, that pleasure rare. We might enough toboggans find In town, perhaps, of every kind, If some one chanced to know where they Awaiting sale are stowed away." Another spoke: "Within us lies The power to make our own supplies; We'll not depend on other hands To satisfy these new demands; The merchants' wares we'll let alone And make toboggans of our own; A lumber-yard some miles from here Holds seasoned lumber all the year. There pine and cedar may be found, And oak and ash are piled around. Some boards are thick and some are thin, But all will bend like sheets of tin. At once we'll hasten to the spot, And, though a fence surrounds the lot, We'll skirmish 'round and persevere, And gain an entrance,—never fear."

This brought a smile to every face, For Brownies love to climb and race, And undertake such work as will Bring into play their wondrous skill. The pointers on the dial plate Could hardly mark a later date, Before they scampered o'er the miles That brought them to the lumber piles, And then they clambered, crept, and squeezed, And gained admittance where they pleased; For other ways than builders show To scale a wall the Brownies know. Some sought for birch, and some for pine, And some for cedar, soft and fine. With free selection well content Soon under heavy loads they bent. It chanced to be a windy night, Which made their labor far from light, But, though a heavy tax was laid On strength and patience, undismayed They worked their way by hook or crook, And reached at last a sheltered nook;

Then lively work the crowd began To make toboggans true to plan. The force was large, the rogues had skill, And hands were willing—better still; So here a twist, and there a bend, Soon brought their labors to an end.

Without the aid of steam or glue, They curved them like a war canoe; No little forethought some displayed, But wisely "double-enders" made, That should they turn, as turn they might, They'd keep the downward course aright; They fashioned some for three or four, And some to carry eight or more,

While some were made to take a crowd And room for half the band allowed. Before the middle watch of night, The Brownies sought the mountain height, And down the steepest grade it showed The band in wild procession rode; Some lay at length, some found a seat; Some bravely stood on bracing feet. But trouble, as you understand, Oft moves with pleasure, hand in hand,

And even Brownies were not free
From evil snag or stubborn tree
That split toboggans like a quill,
And scattered riders down the hill.

With pitch and toss and plunge they flew,—
Some skimmed the drifts, some tunneled through;
Then out across the frozen plain
At dizzy speed they shot amain,

Through splintered rails and flying gates Of half a dozen large estates; Until it seemed that ocean wide Alone could check the fearful ride. Some, growing dizzy with the speed, At times a friendly hand would need To help them keep their proper grip Through all the dangers of the trip. And thus until the stars had waned, The sport of coasting was maintained. Then, while they sought with lively race In deeper woods a hiding-place, "How strange," said one, "we never tried Till now the wild toboggan ride!

But since we've proved the pleasure fine That's found upon the steep incline, We'll often muster on the height, And make the most of every night, Until the rains of spring descend And bring such pleasures to an end." Another answered frank and free: "In all such musters count on me; For though my back is badly strained,

My elbow-joint and ankle sprained, I'll be the first upon the ground As long as patch of snow is found, And bravely do my part to steer Toboggans on their wild career." So every evening, foul or fair, The jovial Brownies gathered there, Till with the days of Spring, at last, Came drenching shower and melting blast, Which sent the mountain's ice and snow To fill the rivers miles below.

---