Chapter 2

ONE time, while Brownies passed around An honest farmer's piece of ground, They paused to view the garden fair And fields of grain that needed care. "My friends," said one who often spoke About the ways of human folk,

"Now here's a case in point, I claim, Where neighbors scarce deserve the name: This farmer on his back is laid With broken ribs and shoulder-blade, Received, I hear, some weeks ago; While at the village here below, He checked a running team, to save Some children from an early grave. Now overripe his harvest stands In waiting for the reaper's hands; The piece of wheat we lately passed Is shelling out at every blast.

Those pumpkins in that corner plot Begin to show the signs of rot; The mold has fastened on their skin, The ripest ones are caving in, And soon the pig in yonder sty With scornful grunt would pass them by. His Early Rose potatoes there Are much in need of light and air; The turnip withers where it lies, The beet and carrot want to rise. 'Oh, pull us up!' they seem to cry To every one that passes by; 'The frost will finish our repose, The grubs are working at our toes;

Unless you come and save us soon, We'll not be worth a picayune!' The corn is breaking from the stalk, The hens around the hill can walk, And with their ever ready bill May pick the kernels at their will. His neighbors are a sordid crowd, Who've such a shameful waste allowed So wrapped in self some men can be, Beyond their purse they seldom see; 'T is left for us to play the friend And here a helping hand extend. But as the wakeful chanticleer Is crowing in the stable near, Too little of the present night Is left to set the matter right.

"To-morrow eve, at that dark hour When birds grow still in leafy bower And bats forsake the ruined pile To exercise their wings awhile, In yonder shady grove we'll meet, With all our active force complete, Prepared to give this farmer aid With basket, barrel, hook, and spade.

But, ere we part, one caution more: Let some invade a druggist's store, And bring along a coated pill;

We'll dose the dog to keep him still. For barking dogs, however kind, Can oft disturb a Brownie's mind." --When next the bat of evening flew, And drowsy things of day withdrew, When beetles droned across the lea, And turkeys sought the safest tree To form aloft a social row And criticise the fox below,-- Then cunning Brownies might be seen Advancing from the forest green; Now jumping fences, as they ran, Now crawling through (a safer plan); Now keeping to the roads awhile, Now "cutting corners," country style; Some bearing hoes, and baskets more, Some pushing barrows on before, While others, swinging sickles bright, Seemed eager for the grain in sight. But in advance of all the throng Three daring Brownies moved along, Whose duty was to venture close And give the barking dog his dose.

Now soon the work was under way, Each chose the part he was to play: While some who handled hoes the best Brought "Early Roses" from their nest, To turnip-tops some laid their hands, More plied the hook, or twisted bands. And soon the sheaves lay piled around, Like heroes on disputed ground. Now let the eye turn where it might, A pleasing prospect was in sight; For garden ground or larger field Alike a busy crowd revealed: Some pulling carrots from their bed, Some bearing burdens on their head, Or working at a fever heat While prying out a monster beet. Now here two heavy loads have met, And there a barrow has upset,

While workers every effort strain The rolling pumpkins to regain;

And long before the stars withdrew, The crop was safe, the work was through. In shocks the corn, secure and good, Now like a Sioux encampment stood; The wheat was safely stowed away; In bins the "Early Roses" lay,

While carrots, turnips, beets, and all Received attention, great and small. When morning dawned, no sight or sound Of friendly Brownies could be found; And when at last old Towser broke The spell, and from his slumber woke, He rushed around, believing still Some mischief lay behind the pill. But though the field looked bare and strange, His mind could hardly grasp the change. And when the farmer learned at morn That safe from harm were wheat and corn, That all his barley, oats, and rye Were in the barn, secure and dry, That carrots, beets, and turnips round Were safely taken from the ground, The honest farmer thought, of course, His neighbors had turned out in force While helpless on the bed he lay, And kindly stowed his crop away.

But when he thanked them for their aid, And hoped they yet might be repaid For acting such a friendly part, His words appeared to pierce each heart. For well they knew that other hands Than theirs had laid his grain in bands, That other backs had bent in toil To save the products of the soil. And then they felt as such folk will Who fail to nobly act, until More earnest helpers, stepping in, Do all the praise and honor win.

THE BROWNIES AT THE GYMNASIUM.

THE Brownies once, while roaming 'round, By chance approached a college ground; And, as they skirmished every side, A large gymnasium they espied. Their eyes grew bright as they surveyed The means for exercise displayed. The club, the weight, the hanging ring, The horizontal bar, and swing,

The boxing-gloves that please the heart Of him who loves the manly art, All brought expressions of delight, As one by one they came in sight. The time was short, and words were few That named the work for each to do. Their mystic art, as may be found On pages now in volumes bound, Was quite enough to bear them in Through walls of wood and roofs of tin. No hasp can hold, no bolt can stand Before the Brownie's tiny hand; The sash will rise, the panel yield, And leave him master of the field.-- When safe they stood within the hall, A pleasant time was promised all.

Said one: "The clubs let me obtain That Indians use upon the plain, And here I'll stand to test my power, And swing them 'round my head an hour; Though not the largest in the band, I claim to own no infant hand; And muscle in this arm you'll meet That well might grace a trained athlete.

Two goats once blocked a mountain pass Contending o'er a tuft of grass. Important messages of state Forbade me there to stand and wait; Without a pause, the pair I neared And seized the larger by the beard; I dragged him from his panting foe And hurled him to the plain below."

"For clubs," a second answered there, "Or heavy weights I little care; Let those by generous nature planned At heavy lifting try their hand; But give me bar or give me ring, Where I can turn, contort, and swing, And I'll outdo, with movements fine, The monkey on his tropic vine."

Thus skill and strength and wind they tried By means they found on every side. Some claimed at once the high trapeze, And there performed with grace and ease; They turned and tumbled left and right, As though they held existence light. At times a finger-tip was all Between them and a fearful fall. On strength of toes they now depend, Or now on coat-tails of a friend-- And had that cloth been less than best That looms could furnish, east or west, Some members of the Brownie race Might now be missing from their place

But fear, we know, scarce ever finds A home within their active minds. And little danger they could see In what would trouble you or me. Some stood to prove their muscle strong, And swung the clubs both large and long That men who met to practice there Had often found no light affair.

A rope they found as 'round they ran, And then a "tug-of-war" began; First over benches, stools, and chairs, Then up and down the winding stairs, They pulled and hauled and tugged around, Now giving up, now gaining ground, Some lost their footing at the go, And on their backs slid to and fro Without a chance their state to mend Until the contest found an end.

Their coats from tail to collar rent Showed some through trying treatment went, And more, with usage much the same, All twisted out of shape, and lame, Had scarce a button to their name. The judge selected for the case Ran here and there about the place With warning cries and gesture wide And seemed unable to decide.

And there they might be tugging still, With equal strength and equal will-- But while they struggled, stars withdrew And hints of morning broader grew, Till arrows from the rising sun Soon made them drop the rope and run.

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, And overwhelm or bury all; 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 man or beast; And well they gauged what all could bear, When they their pudding did prepare; For when the rich repast was done, The rogues could neither fly nor run. --The miller never missed his flour, For Brownies wield a 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.

THE BROWNIES' BALLOON.

WHILE rambling through the forest shade, A sudden halt some Brownies made; For spread about on bush and ground An old balloon at rest they found, That while upon some flying trip Had given aeronauts the slip. And, falling here in foliage green, Through all the summer lay unseen. The Brownies gathered fast to stare Upon the monster lying there,

And when they learned the use and plan Of valves and ropes, the rogues began To lay their schemes and name a night When all could take an airy flight. "We want," said one, "no tame affair, Like some that rise with heated air, And hardly clear the chimney-top Before they lose their life and drop. The bag with gas must be supplied, That will insure a lengthy ride; When we set sail 't is not to fly Above a spire and call it high. The boat, or basket, must be strong, Designed to take the crowd along; For that which leaves a part behind Would hardly suit the Brownie mind.