[FARMER STEBBINS ON ROLLERS.]
Rochester, January 4.
Dear Cousin John:
We got here safe—my worthy wife an' me—
An' put up at James Sunnyhopes'—a pleasant place to be;
An' Isabel, his oldest girl, is home from school just now,
An' pets me with her manners all her young man will allow;
An' his good wife has monstrous sweet an' culinary ways:
It is a summery place to pass a few cold winter days.
Besides, I've various cast-iron friends in different parts o' town,
That's always glad to have me call whenever I come down;
But t'other day, when 'mongst the same I undertook to roam,
I could not find a single one that seemed to be to home!
An' when I asked their whereabouts, the answer was, "I think,
If you're a-goin' down that way, you'll find 'em at the Rink."
I asked what night the Lyceum folks would hold their next debate—
(I've sometimes gone an' helped 'em wield the cares of Church an' State),
An' if protracted meetin's now was holdin' anywhere
(I like to get my soul fed up with fresh celestial fare);
Or when the next church social was; they'd give a knowin' wink,
An' say, "I b'lieve there's nothin' now transpirin' but the Rink."
"What is this 'Rink?'" I innocent inquired, that night at tea.
"Oh, you must go," said Isabel, "this very night with me!
And Mrs. Stebbins she must go, an' skate there with us, too!"
My wife replied, "My dear, just please inform me when I do.
But you two go." An' so we went, an' saw a circus there,
With which few sights I've ever struck will anyways compare.
It seems a good-sized meetin'-house had given up its pews
(The church an' pastor had resigned, from spiritual blues),
An' several acres of the floor was made a skatin' ground,
Where folks of every shape an' size went skippin' round an' round;
An' in the midst a big brass band was helpin' on the fun,
An' everything was gay as sixteen weddin's joined in one.
I've seen small insects crazy-like go circlin' through the air,
An' wondered if they thought some time they'd maybe get somewhere;
I've seen a million river-bugs go scootin' round an' round,
An' wondered what 'twas all about, or what they'd lost or found;
But men an' women, boys an' girls, upon a hard-wood floor,
All whirlin' round like folks possessed, I never saw before.
An' then it straight came back to me, the things I'd read an' heard
About the rinks, an' how their ways was wicked an' absurd;
I'd learned somewhere that skatin' wasn't a healthy thing to do—
But there was Doctor Saddlebags—his fam'ly with him, too!
I'd heard that 'twasn't a proper place for Christian folks to seek—
Old Deacon Perseverance Jinks flew past me like a streak!