"Before Columbus ever thought
Of Western World, with glory fraught;
Before the Northmen had been known
To wander from their native zone;
Before war raised a single mound,
The antiquarians to confound;
Indeed, so very long ago,
The time one can't exactly know,--
A giant Sachem, good as great,
Reigned in and over our Bay State.
So huge was he, his realm so small,
He could not exercise at all,
Except by taking to the sea.
[For which he had a ticket free,
Granted by Neptune, with the seal,
A salient clam, and couchant eel].
His pipe was many a mile in length,
His lungs proportionable in strength;
And his rich moccasins,--with the pair,
The seven-league boots would not compare.
Whene'er siestas he would take,
Cape Cod must help his couch to make;
And, being lowly, it was meet
He should prefer it for his feet.
Well, one day, after quite a doze,
A month or two in length, suppose,
He waked, and, as he'd often done,
Strolled forth to see the mid-day sun;
But while unconsciously he slept,
The sand within his moccasins crept;
At every step some pain he'd feel,
'Twas now the toe, now near the heel;
At length his Sachemship grew cross,
The pebbles to the sea he'd toss,
And with a moccasin in each hand,
He threw on either side the sand;
Then in an instant there appear
Two little isles, the Sachem near!
One as the Vineyard now is known,
The other we may call our own.
At ease, he freely breathed awhile,
Which sent the fogs to bless our isle;
And turning East, with quickened motion,
The chill, bleak winds came o'er the ocean.
Ill-judging Sachem! would that you
Had never shaken here that shoe.
Or, having done so, would again,
And join Nantucket to the main!"
Having had a peep within the nest, you sigh for the return of the bird, and we will on.
CHAPTER III THE VOICE OF CHILDHOOD
"Ah! Well may sages bow to thee,
Dear, loving, guileless Infancy!
And sigh beside their lofty lore
For one untaught delight of thine;
And feel they'd give their learning's store,
To know again thy truth divine."
MRS. OSGOOD
"And now behold him kneeling there,
By the child's side, in humble prayer;
While the same sun-beam shines upon
The guilty and the guiltless one;
And hymns of joy proclaim through heaven,
The triumph of a soul forgiven."
MOORE'S "LALLA ROOKH."
"Mother, why does every one pass poor old Quady by without giving him even a smile? Is not that the reason why he looks so sorrowful? He looked so sad when I met him this afternoon, that I could not help holding out the daisies which I had gathered for you, towards him; and when he did not take them, but stood looking at me without speaking a word, I asked him if he did not want the flowers to carry to his home, and put them into his hand; and when I had come up with the school-girls, who had run away when they saw him coming, I looked after him, and he was still standing by the road-side, with the flowers in his hand, watching us as we went up the street. Perhaps he was resting a little, for it is a long way to the low home over the commons."
"Quady, my dear, no doubt feels that he is alone in the world, for he is the only one that is left of a large tribe of Indians; all of his kind are gone, and are buried, no one but himself knows where. He does not look upon the pale faces as brothers, though they treat him kindly. He feels that wrong has been shown his ancestors at their hands. I am glad, my child, that you were kind to the Indian."
"Yes, mother, I love everybody; but I think I love those best who look as if no one cared for them. I suppose everybody loves poor Quady, only they forget to let him know it."
"You like dat old Ingin, Sea-flower? why, he almost as black as Bingo hesef."
"Do you think I do not love you, Vingo, because you are black? You are always good to me, and what would I do without you to take me to the shore, whenever I like to go?"