Chapter II: Part 2

When hungry bats came forth to wheel
'Round eaves and find their evening meal,
The cunning Brownies sought the store,
To work their way through sash and door.
And soon their beaming faces told
Success had crowned their efforts bold.
A goodly number of the throng
Took extra implements along,

In case of mishap on the way,
Or loss, or breakage during play.
The night was clear, the road was good,
And soon within the field they stood.

Then games were played without a pause,
According to the printed laws.
There, turn about, each took his place
At first or third or second base,

At left or right or center field.
To pitch, to catch, or bat to wield,
Or else as "short-stop" standing by
To catch a "grounder" or a "fly."

Soon every corner of the ground
Its separate set of players found.
A dozen games upon the green,
With ins and outs might there be seen;
The umpires noting all with care
To tell if hits were foul or fair,

The "strikes" and "balls" to plainly shout,
And say if men were "safe" or "out,"
And give decision just and wise
When knotty questions would arise.

But many Brownies thought it best
To leave the sport and watch the rest;
And from the seats or fences high
They viewed the scene with anxious eye
And never failed, the contest through,
To render praise when praise was due.

While others, freed from games on hand,
In merry groups aside would stand,
And pitch and catch with rarest skill
To keep themselves in practice still.

Now "double plays" and balls well curved
And "base hits" often were observed,
While "errors" were but seldom seen
Through all the games upon that green.
Before the flush of morn arose
To bring their contests to a close,
The balls and bats in every case
Were carried back and put in place;
And when the Brownies left the store,
All was in order as before.

THE BROWNIES AND THE BEES.

WHILE Brownies once were rambling through
A forest where tall timber grew,
The hum of bees above their head
To much remark and wonder led.
They gazed at branches in the air
And listened at the roots with care,
And soon a pine of giant size
Was found to hold the hidden prize.
Said one: "Some wild bees here have made
Their home within the forest shade,
Where neither fox nor prying bear
Can steal the treasure gathered there."
Another spoke: "You're quick and bright,
And as a rule judge matters right;
But here, my friend, you're all astray,
And like the blind mole grope your way.
I chance well to remember still,
How months ago, when up the hill,
A farmer near, with bell and horn,
Pursued a swarm one sunny morn.
The fearful din the town awoke,
The clapper from his bell he broke;
But still their queen's directing cry

The bees heard o'er the clamor high;
And held their bearing for this pine
As straight as runs the county line.
With taxes here, and failures there,
The man can ill such losses bear.
In view of this, our duty's clear:
To-morrow night we'll muster here,
And when we give this tree a fall,
In proper shape we'll hive them all,
And take the queen and working throng
And lazy drones where they belong."

Next evening, at the time they'd set,
Around the pine the Brownies met
With tools collected, as they sped
From mill and shop and farmer's shed;
While some, to all their wants alive,
With ready hands procured a hive.

Ere work began, said one: "I fear
But little sport awaits us here.
Be sure a trying task we'll find;
The bee is fuss and fire combined.
Let's take him in his drowsy hour,
Or when palavering to the flower.
For bees, however wild or tame,
In all lands are about the same;
And those will rue it who neglect
To treat the buzzer with respect."

Ere long, by steady grasp and blow,
The towering tree was leveled low;
And then the hive was made to rest
In proper style above the nest,
Until the queen and all her train
Did full and fair possession gain.

Then 'round the hive a sheet was tied,
That some were thoughtful to provide,
And off on poles, as best they could,
They bore the burden from the wood.

But trouble, as one may divine,
Occurred at points along the line.

'Twas bad enough on level ground,
Where, now and then, _one_ exit found;

But when the Brownies lacked a road,
Or climbed the fences with their load,--
Then numbers of the prisoners there
Came trooping out to take the air,
And managed straight enough to fly
To keep excitement running high.

With branches broken off to suit,
And grass uplifted by the root,
In vain some daring Brownies tried
To brush the buzzing plagues aside.
Said one, whose features proved to all
That bees had paid his face a call:
"I'd rather dare the raging main
Than meddle with such things again."
"The noble voice," another cried,
"Of duty still must rule and guide,--
Or in the ditch the sun would see
The tumbled hive for all of me."

And when at last the fence they found
That girt the farmer's orchard 'round,
And laid the hive upon the stand,
There hardly was, in all the band,
A single Brownie who was free
From some reminders of the bee.

But thoughts of what a great surprise
Ere long would light the farmer's eyes
Soon drove away from every brain
The slightest thought of toil or pain.

THE BROWNIES ON ROLLER SKATES.

THE Brownies planned at close of day
To reach a town some miles away,
Where roller skating, so 'twas said,
Of all amusements kept ahead.
Said one: "When deeper shadows fall,
We'll cross the river, find the hall,

And learn the nature of the sport
Of which we hear such good report."

To reach the bridge that led to town,
With eager steps they hastened down;
But recent rains had caused a rise--
The stream was now a fearful size;
The bridge was nearly swept away,
Submerged in parts, and wet with spray.

But when the cunning Brownies get
Their mind on some maneuver set,
Nor wind nor flood, nor frost nor fire
Can ever make the rogues retire.

Some walked the dripping logs with ease,
While others crept on hands and knees
With movements rather safe than fast,
And inch by inch the danger passed.

Now, guided by the rumbling sound
That told where skaters circled 'round,
Through dimly lighted streets they flew,
And close about the building drew.

Without delay the active band,
By spouts and other means at hand,
Of skill and daring furnished proof
And gained possession of the roof;
Then through the skylight viewed the show
Presented by the crowds below.

Said one: "While I survey that floor
I'm filled with longing more and more,

And discontent with me will bide
Till 'round the rink I smoothly glide.
At night I've ridden through the air,
Where bats abide, and owls repair;
I've rolled in surf of ocean wide,
And coasted down the mountain-side;
And now to sweep around a hall
On roller skates would crown it all."

"My plans," the leader answer made,
"Are in my mind already laid.
Within an hour the folk below
Will quit their sport and homeward go;

Then will the time be ripe, indeed,
For us to leave this roof with speed,
And prove how well our toes and heels
We may command when set on wheels."

When came the closing hour at last,
And people from the rink had passed,
The Brownies hurried down to find
The roller skates they'd left behind.

Then such a scene was there as few
May ever have a chance to view.
Some hardly circled 'round the place,
Before they moved with ease and grace,
And skated freely to and fro,
Upon a single heel or toe.
Some coats were torn beyond repair,
By catches here and clutches there,
When those who felt their faith give way,
Groped right and left without delay;

While some who strove their friends to aid,
Upon the floor themselves were laid,
To spread confusion there awhile,
As large and larger grew the pile.

Some rose with fingers out of joint,
Or black and blue at every point;

And few but felt some portion sore,
From introductions to the floor.
But such mishaps were lost to sight,
Amid the common wild delight,--
For little plaint do Brownies make
O'er bump or bruise or even break.

But stars at length began to wane,
And dawn came creeping through the pane;
And much against the will of all,
The rogues were forced to leave the hall.

THE BROWNIES AT THE SEASIDE.

WITHIN a forest dark and wide,
Some distance from the ocean side,
A band of Brownies played around
On mossy stone or grassy mound,
Or, climbing through the branching tree,
Performed their antics wild and free.

When one, arising in his place
With sparkling eyes and beaming face
Soon won attention from the rest,
And thus the listening throng addressed:
"For years and years, through heat and cold,
Our home has been this forest old;
The saplings which we used to bend
Now like a schooner's masts ascend.

Yet here we live, content to ride
A springing bough with childish pride,
Content to bathe in brook or bog
Along with lizard, leech, and frog;
We're far behind the age you'll find
If once you note the human kind.

The modern youths no longer lave
Their limbs beneath the muddy wave
Of meadow pool or village pond,
But seek the ocean far beyond.
If pleasure in the sea is found
Not offered by the streams around,
The Brownie band at once should haste

These unfamiliar joys to taste;
No torch nor lantern's ray we'll need
To show our path o'er dewy mead,
The ponds and pitfalls in the swale,
The open ditch, the slivered rail,
The poison vine and thistle high
Show clear before the Brownie's eye."
--Next evening, as their plan they'd laid,
The band soon gathered in the shade.
All clustered like a swarm of bees
They darted from the sheltering trees;
And straight across the country wide
Began their journey to the tide.
And when they neared the beach at last,--
The stout, the lean, the slow, the fast,--
'T was hard to say, of all the lot,
Who foremost reached the famous spot.
"And now," said one with active mind.
"What proper garments can we find?
In bathing costume, as you know,
The people in the ocean go."

Another spoke, "For such demands,
The building large that yonder stands,

As one can see on passing by,
Is full of garments clean and dry.
There every fashion, loose or tight,
We may secure with labor light."

Though Brownies never carry keys,
They find an entrance where they please;
And never do they chuckle more
Than when some miser bars his door;
For well they know that, spite of locks,
Of rings and staples, bolts and blocks,
Were they inclined to play such prank
He'd find at morn an empty bank.
So now the crafty Brownie crew
Soon brought the bathing-suits to view;
Some, working on the inner side,
The waiting throng without supplied.--

'Twas busy work, as may be guessed,
Before the band was fully dressed;
Some still had cloth enough to lend,
Though shortened up at either end;
Sortie ran about to find a pin,
While others rolled, and puckered in,

And made the best of what they found,
However strange it hung around.

Then, when a boat was manned with care
To watch for daring swimmers there,--

Lest some should venture, over-bold,
And fall a prey to cramp and cold,--
A few began from piers to leap
And plunge at once in water deep,
But more to shiver, shrink, and shout
As step by step they ventured out;
While others were content to stay
In shallow surf, to duck and play
Along the lines that people laid
To give the weak and timid aid.

It was a sight one should behold,
When o'er the crowd the breakers rolled;--
One took a header through the wave,
One floated like a chip or stave,
While others there, at every plunge,
Were taking water like a sponge.

But while the surf they tumbled through,
They reckoned moments as they flew,
And kept in mind their homeward race
Before the sun should show his face.

For sad and painful is the fate
Of those who roam abroad too late;
And well may Brownies bear in mind
The hills and vales they leave behind,
When far from native haunts they run,
As oft they do, in quest of fun.
But, ere they turned to leave the strand,
They made a vow with lifted hand
That every year, when summer's glow
Had warmed the ocean spread below,
They'd journey far from grove and glen
To sport in rolling surf again.

THE BROWNIES AND THE SPINNING-WHEEL.

ONE evening, with the falling dew,
Some Brownies 'round a cottage drew.
Said one: "I've learned the reason why
We miss the 'Biddy, Biddy!' cry,
That every morning brought a score
Of fowls around this cottage door;
'T is rheumatism most severe
That keeps the widow prisoned here.
Her sheep go bleating through the field,
In quest of salt no herb can yield,
To early roost the fowls withdraw
While each bewails an empty craw.
And sore neglect you may discern
On every side, where'er you turn.
If aid come to the widow's need,
From Brownies' hands it must proceed."
Another said: "The wool, I know,
Went through the mill a month ago.
I saw them when they bore the sack
Tip yonder hill, a wondrous pack
That caught the branches overhead,
And round their heels the gravel spread.
Her spinning-wheel is lying there
In fragments quite beyond repair.
A passing goat, with manners bold,
Mistook it for a rival old,

And knocked it 'round for half an hour
With all his noted butting power.
They say it was a striking scene,
That twilight conflict on the green;
The wheel was resting on the shed,
The frame around the garden spread,
Before the goat had gained his sight,
And judged the article aright."

A third remarked: "I call to mind
Another wheel that we may find.
Though somewhat worn by use and time,
It seems to be in order prime;
Now, night is but a babe as yet,
The dew has scarce the clover wet;
By running fast and working hard
We soon can bring it to the yard;
Then stationed here in open air
The widow's wool shall be our care."

This suited all, and soon with zeal
They started off to find the wheel;
Their course across the country lay
Where great obstructions barred the way;
But Brownies seldom go around
However rough or wild the ground.

O'er rocky slope and marshy bed,
With one accord they pushed ahead,Across
the tail-race of a mill,
And through a churchyard on the hill.

They found the wheel, with head and feet,
And band and fixtures, all complete;

And soon beneath the trying load
Were struggling on the homeward road.

They had some trouble, toil, and care,
Some hoisting here, and hauling there;

At times, the wheel upon a fence
Defied them all to drag it thence,
As though determined to remain
And serve the farmer, guarding grain.
But patient head and willing hand
Can wonders work in every land;
And cunning Brownies never yield,
But aye as victors leave the field.

Some ran for sticks, and some for pries,
And more for blocks on which to rise,
That every hand or shoulder there,
In such a pinch might do its share.

Before the door they set the wheel,
And near at hand the winding reel,
That some might wind while others spun,
And thus the task be quickly done.

No time was wasted, now, to find
What best would suit each hand or mind.
Some through the cottage crept about
To find the wool and pass it out;
With some to turn, and some to pull,
And some to shout, "The spindle's full!"
The wheel gave out a droning song,--
The work in hand was pushed along.

Their mode of action and their skill
With wonder might a spinster fill;
For out across the yard entire
They spun the yarn like endless wire,--
Beyond the well with steady haul,
Across the patch of beans and all,
Until the walls, or ditches wide,
A greater stretch of wool denied.

The widow's yarn was quickly wound
In tidy balls, quite large and round.

And ere the night began to fade,
The borrowed wheel at home was laid;
And none the worse for rack or wear,
Except a blemish here and there,
A spindle bent, a broken band,--
'T was ready for the owner's hand.

THE BROWNIES' VOYAGE.

ONE night, a restless Brownie band
Resolved to leave their native strand,
And visit islands fair and green,
That in the distance might be seen.

In answer to a summons wide,
The Brownies came from every side--
A novel spectacle they made,
All mustered in the forest shade.
With working implements they came,
Of every fashion, use, and name.

Said one, "How many times have we
Surveyed those islands in the sea,
And longed for means to thither sail
And ramble over hill and vale!

That pleasure rare we may command,
Without the aid of human hand.
And ere the faintest streak of gray
Has advertised the coming day,
A sturdy craft, both tough and tall,
With masts and halyards, shrouds and all,
With sails to spread, and helm to guide,
Completed from the ways shall glide.
So exercise your mystic power
And make the most of every hour!"

With axes, hammers, saws, and rules,
Dividers, squares, and boring tools,
The active Brownies scattered 'round,
And every one his labor found.
Some fell to chopping down the trees,
And some to hewing ribs and knees;
While more the ponderous keelson made,
And fast the shapely hull was laid.
Then over all they clambered soon,
Like bees around their hive in June.
'T was hammer, hammer, here and there,
And rip and racket everywhere,

While some were spiking planks and beams,
The calkers stuffed the yawning seams,
And poured the resin left and right,
To make her stanch and water-tight.
Some busily were bringing nails,
And bolts of canvas for the sails,
And coils of rope of every size
To make the ratlines, shrouds, and guys.
It mattered little whence it came,
Or who a loss of stock might claim;
Supply kept even with demand,
Convenient to the rigger's hand.

'T was marvelous to see how fast
The vessel was together cast;
Until, with all its rigs and stays,
It sat prepared to leave the ways.
It but remained to name it now,
And break a bottle on the bow,
To knock the wedges from the side,
And from the keel, and let it slide.

And when it rode upon the sea,
The Brownies thronged the deck with glee,
And veering 'round in proper style,
They bore away for nearest isle.

But those who will the ocean brave
Should be prepared for wind and wave
For storms will rise, as many know,
When least we look for squall or blow
And soon the sky was overcast,
And waves were running high and fast;

Then some were sick and some were filled
With fears that all their ardor chilled;
But, as when dangers do assail
The humankind, though some may quail,
There will be found a few to face
The danger, and redeem the race,--

So, some brave Brownies nobly stood
And manned the ship as best they could.
Some staid on deck to sound for bars;
Some went aloft to watch for stars;
And some around the rudder hung,
And here and there the vessel swung,
While, others, strung on yard and mast,
Kept shifting sails to suit the blast.

At times, the bow was high in air,
And next the stern was lifted there.

So thus it tumbled, tossed, and rolled,
And shipped enough to fill the hold,
Till more than once it seemed as though
To feed the fish they all must go.

But still they bravely tacked and veered,
And hauled, and reefed, and onward steered;
While screaming birds around them wheeled,
As if to say: "Your doom is sealed";
And hungry gar and hopeful shark
In shoals pursued the creaking bark,
Still wondering how it braved a gale
That might have made Columbus pale.

The rugged island, near them now,
Was looming on their starboard bow;
But knowing not the proper way
Of entering its sheltered bay,
They simply kept their canvas spread,
And steered the vessel straight ahead.
The birds were distanced in the race;
The gar and shark gave up the chase,
And turning back, forsook the keel,
And lost their chances of a meal.

For now the ship to ruin flew,
As though it felt its work was through,
And soon it stranded, "pitch and toss,"
Upon the rocks, a total loss.
The masts and spars went by the board--
The hull was shivered like a gourd!
But yet, on broken plank and rail,
On splintered spars and bits of sail
That strewed for miles the rugged strand,
The Brownies safely reached the land.

Now, Brownies lack the power, 'tis said,
Of making twice what once they've made;
So all their efforts were in vain
To build and launch the ship again;--
And on that island, roaming 'round,
That Brownie band for years was found.

THE BROWNIES' RETURN.

ONCE while the Brownies lay at ease
About the roots of rugged trees,
And listened to the dreary moan
Of tides around their island lone
Said one: "My friends, unhappy here,
We spend our days from year to year
We're cornered in, and hardly boast
A run of twenty leagues at most
You all remember well, I ween,
The night we reached this island green,
When flocks of fowl around us wailed,
And followed till their pinions failed.
And still our ship at every wave
To sharks a creaking promise gave,
Then spilled us out in breakers white,
To gain the land as best we might.
Since then how oft we've tried in vain
To reach our native haunts again,
Where roaming freely, unconfined,
Would better suit our roving mind.

"To-night, while wandering by the sea
A novel scheme occurred to me,
As I beheld in groups and rows
The weary fowl in deep repose.
They sat as motionless as though
The life had left them years ago.
The albatross and crane are there,
The loon, the gull, and gannet rare.
An easy task for us to creep
Around the fowl, while fast asleep.
And at a given signal spring
Aboard, before they spread a wing,
And trust to them to bear us o'er.
In safety to our native shore."

Another spoke: "I never yet
Have shunned a risk that others met,
But here uncommon dangers lie,
Suppose the fowl should seaward fly,
And never landing, course about,
And drop us, when their wings gave out?"

To shallow schemes that will not bring
A modest risk, let cowards cling!
The first replied. "A Brownie shows
The best where dangers thickest close.
But, hear me out: by sea and land,
Their habits well I understand.
When rising first they circle wide,
As though the strength of wings they tried,
Then steering straight across the bay,
To yonder coast a visit pay.
But granting they for once should be
Inclined to strike for open sea,
The breeze that now is rising fast,
Will freshen to a whistling blast,
And landward sweeping, stronger still,
Will drive the fowl against their will."

Now at his heels, with willing feet,
They followed to the fowls' retreat.
'Twas hard to scale the rugged breast
Of crags, where birds took nightly rest.
But some on hands, and some on knees,
And more by vines or roots of trees,
From shelf to shelf untiring strained,
And soon the windy summit gained.
With bated breath, they gathered round;
They crawled with care along the ground.
By this, one paused; or that, one eyed;
Each chose the bird he wished to ride.

When all had done the best they could,
And waiting for the signal stood,
It hardly took a moment's space
For each to scramble to his place.

Some seized a neck and some a head,
And some a wing, and some a shred
Of tail, or aught that nearest lay,
To help them mount without delay.
Then rose wild flaps and piercing screams,
As sudden starting from their dreams
The wondering fowl in sore dismay
Brought wings and muscles into play.
Some felt the need of longer sleep,
And hardly had the strength to "cheep;"
While others seemed to find a store
Of screams they'd never found before
--But off like leaves or flakes of snow
Before the gale the Brownies go,
Away, away, through spray or cloud
As fancy led, or load allowed.
Some birds to poor advantage showed,
As, with an oddly balanced load,
Now right or left at random cast,

They flew, the sport of every blast;
While fish below had aching eyes
With gazing upward at the prize.
They followed still from mile to mile,
Believing fortune yet would smile;
While plainer to the Brownies grew
The hills and vales that well they knew.
"I see," said one, who, from his post
Between the wings, could view the coast,
"The lofty peaks we used to climb

To gaze upon the scene sublime."
A second cried: "And there's the bay
From which our vessel bore away!"
"And I," another cried, "can see
The shady grove, the very tree
We met beneath the night we planned
To build a ship and leave the land!"

All in confusion now at last,
The birds upon the shore were cast.
Some, tumbling through thick branches, fell
And spilled the load that clung so well.
Some, "topsy-turvy" to the ground,
Dispersed their riders all around;
And others still could barely get
To shores where land and water met.

Congratulations then began,
As here and there the Brownies ran,

To learn if all had held their grip
And kept aboard throughout the trip.
"And now," said one, "that all are o'er
In safety to our native shore,
You see, so wasted is the night,
Orion's belt is out of sight;
And ere the lamp of Venus fades
We all must reach the forest shades.

THE BROWNIES' SINGING-SCHOOL.

AS mists of evening deeper grew,
The Brownies 'round a comrade drew,
An interesting tale to hear
About a village lying near.
"Last night," said he, "I heard arise
From many throats discordant cries.
At once I followed up the sound,
And soon, to my amazement, found
It issued from a building small
That answered for the county hall.

"I listened there around the door,
By village time, an hour or more;
Until I learned beyond a doubt
A singing-school caused all the rout.
Some, like the hound, would keep ahead,
And others seemed to lag instead.
Some singers, struggling with the tune,
Outscreamed the frightened northern loon.
Some mocked the pinched or wheezing cry
Of locusts when the wheat is nigh,
While grumbling bassos shamed the strain
Of bull-frogs calling down the rain."

The Brownies labor heart and hand
All mysteries to understand;
And if you think those Brownies bold
Received the news so plainly told,
And thought no more about the place,
You're not familiar with the race.

When scholars next their voices tried,
The Brownies came from every side;
With ears to knot-holes in the wall,
To door-jambs, thresholds, blinds, and all,
They listened to the jarring din
Proceeding from the room within.

Said one at length, "It seems to me
The master here will earn his fee,
If he from such a crowd can bring
A single person trained to sing."
Another said, "We'll let them try
Their voices till their throats are dry,
And when for home they all depart,
We'll not be slow to test our art."

That night the Brownies cheered to find
The music had been left behind;
And when they stood within the hall,
And books were handed 'round to all,
They pitched their voices, weak or strong,
At solemn verse and lighter song.

Some sought a good old hymn to try;
Some grappled with a lullaby;
A few a painful effort made
To struggle through a serenade;
While more preferred the lively air
That, hinting less of love or care,
Possessed a chorus kind and bright
In which they all could well unite.
At times some member tried to rule,
And took control of all the school;
But soon, despairing, was content
To let them follow out their bent.

They sung both high and low, the same,
As fancy led or courage came.

Some droned the tune through teeth or nose,
Some piped like quail, or cawed like crows
That, hungry, wait the noonday horn
To call the farmer from his corn.
By turns at windows some would stay
To note the signs of coming day.
At length the morning, rising, spread
Along the coast her streaks of red,
And drove the Brownies from the place
To undertake the homeward race.

But many members of the band
Still kept their singing-books in hand,
Determined not with those to part
Till they were perfect in the art.
And oft in leafy forest shade,
In after times, a ring they made,
To pitch the tune, and raise the voice,
To sing the verses of their choice,
And scare from branches overhead
The speckled thrush and robin red,
And make them feel the time had come
When singing birds might well be dumb.

THE BROWNIES' FRIENDLY TURN.

ONE night while snow was lying deep
On level plain and mountain steep,
A sheltered nook the Brownies found,
Where conversation might go 'round.
Said one: "The people hereabout
Their wood supply have taken out;
But while they stripped the timber lot,
The village parson they forgot.

Now that good man, the story goes,
As best he can, must warm his toes."
Another spoke: "The way is clear
To show both skill and courage here.
You're not the sort, I know, to shirk:
And coward-like to flee from work.
You act at once whene'er you find
A chance to render service kind,
Nor wait to see what others do
In matters that appeal to you.

"This task in waiting must be done
Before another day has run.
The signs of change are in the air;
A storm is near though skies are fair;
As oft when smiles the broadest lie,
The tears are nearest to the eye.
To work let every Brownie bend,
And prove to-night the parson's friend.
We'll not take oxen from the stall,
That through the day must pull and haul,
Nor horses from the manger lead;
But let them take the rest they need.
Since mystic power is at our call,
By our own selves we'll do it all.
Our willing arms shall take the place
Of clanking chain and leathern trace,
And 'round the door the wood we'll strew
Until we hide the house from view."

At once the Brownies sought the ground
Where fuel could with ease be found,--
A place where forest-fires had spread,
And left the timber scorched and dead.
And there throughout the chilly night
They tugged and tore with all their might;
Some bearing branches as their load;
With lengthy poles still others strode,

Or struggled till they scarce could see,
With logs that bent them like a V;
While more from under drifts of snow
Removed old trees, and made them go
Like plows along the icy street,
With half their limbs and roots complete.
Some found it hard to train their log
To keep its place through jolt and jog,
While some, mistaking ditch for road,
Were almost buried with their load,
And but for friends and promptest care,
The morning light had found them there.

The wind that night was cold and keen,
And frosted Brownies oft were seen.
They clapped their hands and stamped their toes,
They rubbed with snow each numbing nose,
And drew the frost from every face
Before it proved a painful case.

And thus, in spite of every ill,
The task was carried forward still.
Some were by nature well designed
For work of this laborious kind,
And never felt so truly great,
As when half crushed beneath a weight.
While wondering comrades stood aghast,
And thought each step must be the last.

But some were slight and ill could bear
The heavy loads that proved their share,

Though at some sport or cunning plan
They far beyond their comrades ran.

Around the house some staid to pile
The gathered wood in proper style;
Which ever harder work they found
As high and higher rose the mound.

Above the window-sill it grew,
And next, the cornice hid from view;
And, ere the dawn had forced a stop,
The pile o'erlooked the chimney-top.

Some hands were sore, some backs were blue,
And legs were scraped with slipping through
Where ice and snow had left their mark
On rounded log and smoothest bark.

That morning, when the parson rose,
Against the pane he pressed his nose,
And tried the outer world to scan
To learn how signs of weather ran.

But, 'round the house, behind, before,
In front of window, shed, and door,
The wood was piled to such a height
But little sky was left in sight!

When next he climbed his pulpit stair,
He touched upon the strange affair,
And asked a blessing rich to fall
Upon the heads and homes of all
Who through the night had worked so hard
To heap the fuel 'round the yard.
His hearers knew they had no claim
To such a blessing if it came,
But whispered: "We don't understand--
It must have been the Brownie Band."

THE BROWNIES' FOURTH OF JULY.

WHEN Independence Day was nigh,
And children laid their pennies by,
Arranging plans how every cent
Should celebrate the grand event,
The Brownies in their earnest way
Expressed themselves about the day.
Said one: "The time is drawing near--
To every freeman's heart so dear--
When citizens throughout the land,
From Western slope to Eastern strand,

Will celebrate with booming gun
Their liberties so dearly won!"

"A fitting time," another cried,
"For us, who many sports have tried,

To introduce our mystic art
And in some manner play a part."
A third replied, with beaming face:
"Trust me to lead you to a place
Where fireworks of every kind
Are made to suit the loyal mind.

"There, Roman candles are in store,
And bombs that like a cannon roar;
While 'round the room one may behold
Designs of every size and mold,--
The wheels that turn, when all ablaze,
And scatter sparks a thousand ways;
The eagle bird, with pinions spread;
The busts of statesmen ages dead;
And him who led his tattered band
Against invaders of the land
Until he shook the country free
From grasp of kings beyond the sea.

"We may, from this supply, with ease
Secure a share whene'er we please;
And on these hills behind the town
That to the plain go sloping down,

We'll take position, come what may,
And celebrate the Nation's Day."

That eve, when stars began to shine,
The eager band was formed in line,
And, acting on the plans well laid,
A journey to the town was made.

The Brownies never go astray,
However puzzling is the way;
With guides before and guards behind,
They cut through every turn and wind,
Until a halt was made at last
Before a building bolted fast.
But those who think they'd turn around
And leave because no keys are found
Should entertain the thought no more,
But study up the Brownie lore.

They rummaged boxes piled around
And helped themselves to what they found,
Some eager to secure the wheel
That would so many sparks reveal.
Some active members of the band
To bombs and crackers turned their hand,
While more those emblems sought to find
That call the Nation's birth to mind,
And bring from every side the shout
When all their meaning blazes out.

Ere long, upon the homeward road
They hastened with their novel load:
And when the bell in chapel tower
Gave notice of the midnight hour,
The ruddy flame, the turning wheel,
The showering sparks and deafening peal
Showed Brownies in the proper way
Gave welcome to the glorious day.

The lighted eagles, through the night,
Looked down like constellations bright;
The rockets, whizzing to and fro,
Lit up the slumbering town below;
While, towering there with eyes of fire,
As when he made his foes retire,
Above all emblems duly raised,
The Father of his Country blazed.

But ere the Brownies' large supply
Had gone to light the summer sky,
Some plasters would have served the band
Much better than the goods on hand;
For there were cases all about
Where Brownies thought the fuse was out,
Till with a sudden fizz and flare
It caught the jokers unaware.

At times, in spite of warning cries,
Some proved too slow at closing eyes;
Some ears were stunned, some noses got
Too close to something quick and hot,
And fingers bore for days and weeks
The trace of hasty powder's freaks.

Some dodging 'round would get a share
Of splendor meant for upper air,
And with a black or speckled face
They ran about from place to place,
To find new dangers blaze and burn
On every side where'er they'd turn.

But few were there who felt afraid
Of bursting bomb or fusillade,
And to the prize they'd stick and hang
Until it vanished with a "bang,"
Or darting upward seemed to fly
On special business to the sky.

But there, while darkness wrapped the hill,
The Brownies celebrated still;
For, pleasures such as this they found
But seldom in their roaming 'round;
And with reluctant feet they fled
When morning tinged the sky with red.

THE BROWNIES IN THE TOY-SHOP.

AS shades of evening settled down,
The Brownies rambled through the town,
To pry at this, to pause at that;
By something else to hold a chat,
And in their free and easy vein
Express themselves in language plain.
At length before a store, their eyes
Were fixed with wonder and surprise
On toys of wood, and wax, and tin,
And toys of rubber piled within.

Said one, "In all our wandering 'round,
A sight like this we never found.
When such a passing glimpse we gain,
What marvels must the shelves contain!"

Another said, "It must be here
Old Santa Claus comes every year
To gather up his large supply,
When Christmas Eve is drawing nigh,
That children through the land may find
They still are treasured in his mind."

A third remarked, "Ere long he may
Again his yearly visit pay;
Before he comes to strip the place,
We'll rummage shelf, and box, and case,
Until the building we explore
From attic roof to basement floor,
And prove what pleasure may be found
In all the wonders stowed around."

Not long were they content to view
Through dusty panes those wonders new:
And, in a manner quite their own,
They made their way through wood and stone.

And then surprises met the band
In odd conceits from every land.
Well might the Brownies stand and stare
At all the objects crowded there!
Here, things of gentle nature lay
In safety, midst the beasts of prey;
The goose and fox, a friendly pair,
Reposed beside the lamb and bear;
There horses stood for boys to ride;
Here boats were waiting for the tide,

While ships of war, with every sail
Unfurled, were anchored to a nail;
There soldiers stood in warlike bands;
And naked dolls held out their hands,
As though to urge the passers-by
To take them from the public eye.
This way and that, the Brownies ran;
To try the toys they soon began.

The Jack-in-box, so quick and strong,
With staring eyes and whiskers long,
Now o'er and o'er was set and sprung
Until the scalp was from it flung
And then they crammed him in his case,
With wig and night-cap in their place,
To give some customer a start
When next the jumper flew apart.
The trumpets, drums, and weapons bright
Soon filled them all with great delight.
Like troops preparing for their foes,
In single ranks and double rows,

They learned the arts of war, as told
By printed books and veterans old;
With swords of tin and guns of wood,
They wheeled about, and marched or stood,

And went through skirmish drill and all,
From room to room by bugle-call;
There Marathon and Waterloo
And Bunker Hill were fought anew;
And most of those in war array
At last went limping from the fray.
The music-box poured forth an air
That charmed the dullest spirits there,
Till, yielding to the pleasing sound,
They danced with dolls a lively round.

There fish were working tail and fin
In seas confined by wood and tin;
The canvas shark and rubber whale
Seemed ill content in dish or pail,
And leaping all obstructions o'er
Performed their antics on the floor.

Some found at marbles greatest fun,
And still they played, and still they won,
Until they claimed as winners, all
The shop could furnish, large and small.

More gave the singing tops no rest--
But kept them spinning at their best
Until some wonder strange and new
To other points attention drew.

The rocking-horse that wildly rose,
Now on its heels, now on its nose,

Was forced to bear so great a load
It seemed to founder on the road,
Then tumble feebly to the floor,
Never to lift a rocker more.

No building in the country wide
With more attractions was supplied.
No shop or store throughout the land
Could better suit the Brownie band.
For when some flimsy toy gave way
And 'round the room in pieces lay

'Twas hardly missed in such a store,
With wonders fairly running o'er:
To something else about the place
The happy Brownie turned his face,
And only feared the sun would call
Before he'd had his sport with all.

Thus, through the shop in greatest glee,
They rattled 'round, the sights to see,
Till stars began to dwindle down,
And morning crept into the town.
And then, with all the speed they knew,
Away to forest shades they flew.