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A CHILD-WORLD, Part 3 A PROSPECTIVE VISIT
While any day was notable and dear
That gave the children Noey, history here
Records his advent emphasized indeed
With sharp italics, as he came to feed
The stock one special morning, fair and bright,
When Johnty and Bud met him, with delight
Unusual even as their extra dress-
Garbed as for holiday, with much excess
Of proud self-consciousness and vain conceit
In their new finery.-Far up the street
They called to Noey, as he came, that they,
As promised, both were going back that day
To his house with him!
And by time that each
Had one of Noey's hands-ceasing their speech
And coyly anxious, in their new attire,
To wake the comment of their mute desire,-
Noey seemed rendered voicless. Quite a while
They watched him furtively.-He seemed to smile
As though he would conceal it; and they saw
Him look away, and his lips purse and draw
In curious, twitching spasms, as though he might
Be whispering,-while in his eye the white
Predominated strangly.-Then the spell
Gave way, and his pent speech burst audible:
"They wuz two stylish little boys,
and they wuz mighty bold ones!"
Had two new pairs o' britches made
out o' their daddy's old ones!"
And at the insperational outbreak,
Both joker and his victims seemed to take
An equal share of laughter,-and all through
Their morning visit kept recurring to
The funny words and jingle of the rhyme
That just kept getting funnier all the time.
AT NOEY'S HOUSE
At Noey's house-when they arrived with him-
How snug seemed everything, and neat and trim:
The little picket-fence, and little gate-
It's little pulley, and its little weight,-
All glib as clock-work, as it clicked behind
Them, on the little red brick pathway, lined
With little paint-keg-vases and teapots
Of wee moss-blossoms and forgetmenots:
And in the windows, either side the door,
Were ranged as many little boxes more
Of like old-fashioned larkspurs, pinks and moss
And fern and phlox; while up and down across
Them rioted the morning-glory-vines
On taut-set cotton-strings, whose snowy lines
THE OWL, THE TERRAPIN AND BOLIVUR
Whipt in and out and under the bright green
Like basting-threads; and, here and there between,
A showy, shiny hollyhock would flare
Its pink among the white and purple there.-
And still behind the vines, the children saw
A strange, bleached, wistful face that seemed to draw
A vague, indefinite sypathy. A face
It was "Jason," as he turned and led
The little fellows 'round the house to show
Them his menagerie of pets. And so
For quite a time the face of the strange guest
Was partially forgotten, as they pressed
About the squirrel-cage and rousted both
The lazy inmates out, though wholly loath
To whirl the wheel for them.-And then with awe
They walked 'round Noey's big pet owl, and saw
Him film his great, clear, liquid eyes and stare
And turn and turn and turn his head 'round there
The same way they kept circling-as though he
Could turn it one way thus eternally.
Behind the kitchen, then, with special pride
Noey stirred up terrapin inside
The rain-barrel where he lived, with three of four
Little mud-turtles of a size not more
In neat circumfrence than the tiny toy
Dumb-watches worn by every little boy.
Then, back of the old shop, beneath the tree
Of "rusty coats," as Noey called them, he
Next took the boys, to show his favorite new
Pet 'coon - pulled rather coyly into view
Up through a square hole in the bottom of
An old inverted tub he bent above,
Yanking a little chain, with "Hey! you, sir!
Here's comp'ny come to see you, Bolivur!"
Explanatory, he went on to say,
"I named him 'Bolivur' jes thisaway, -
He looks so round and ovalish and fat,
'Peared like no other name 'ud fit but that."
Here Noey's father called and sent him on
Some errand. "Wait," he said - "I won't be gone
A half a' hour. - Take Bud, and go on in
Where Jason is, tel I git back agin."
JASON
Whoever Jason was, they found him there
Still at the front-room windows. - By his chair
Leaned a new pair of crutches; and from one
Knee down, a leg was bandaged. - "Jason done
That-air with one o'these-'ere tools we call
A 'shin-hoe' - but a foot-adz mostly all
Hardware-store-keepers calls 'em." (Noey made
This explanation later.)
Jason paid
But little notice to the boys as they
Came in the room: - An idle volume lay
Upon his lap - the only book in sight -
And Johnty read the title, - "Light, More Light,
There's Danger in the Dark," - though first and best-
In fact, the whole of Jason's interest
Seemed centered on a little dog - one pet
Of Noey's all uncelebrated yet -
Though Jason, certainly, avowed his worth,
And niched him over all the pets on earth -
As the observant Johnty would relate
The Jason-episode, and imitate
The all-enthusiastic speech and air
Of Noey's kinman and his tribute there:-
"That little dog'ud scratch at the door
And go on a-whinin' two hours before
He'd ever let up! There!-Jane: Let him in.-
(Hah, there, you little rat!) Look at him grim!
Come down off o' that!-
W'y, look at him! (Drat
You! you-rascal-you!)-bring me that hat!
Look out!-He'll snap you!- He wouldn't let
You take it away from him, now you kin bet!
That little rascal's jist natchurly mean.-
I tell you, I never (Git out!!) never seen
A spunkier little rip! (Scratch to git in,
And now yer a-scratchin' to git out agin!
Jane: Let him out!) Now, watch him from here
Out through the winder!-You notice one ear
Kindo' inside-out, like he holds it?-Well,
He's got a tick in it-I kin tell!
Yes, and he's cunnin'-
Jist watch him a-runnin',
Sidelin'-see!-like he ain't 'plum'd true'
And legs don't 'track' as they'd ort to do!-
Plowin' his nose through the weeds-I jing!
Ain't he jist cuter'n anything!
"W'y, that little dog's got grown-people's sense!-
See how he gits out under the fence?-
And watch him a-whettin' his hind-legs 'fore
His dead square run of a miled er more-
'Cause Noey's a-comin', and Trip allus knows
When Noey's a-comin'-and off he goes!-
Putts out to meet him and-There they come now!
Well-sir! it's raially singular how
That dog kin tell,-
But he knows as well
When Noey's a-comin' home!-Reckon his smell
'Ud carry two miled?-You needn't to smile-
He runs to meet him, ever'-once-n-a-while,
Two miled and over-when he's slipped away
And left him at home here, as he's done to-day-
'Thout ever knowin' where Noey wuz goin'-
But that little dog allus hits the right way!
Hear him a-whinin' and scratchin' agin?-
(Little tormentin' fice!) Jane: Let him in.
"-You say he ain't there?-
Well now, I declare!-
Lem me limp out and look!...I wunder where-
Heuh, Trip!-Heuh, Trip!-Hueh, Trip!...There-
There he is!-Little sneak!-What-a'-you-'bout?-
There he is-quiled up as meek as a mouse,
His tail turnt up like a teakettle-spout,
A-sunnun' hisse'f at the side o' the house!
Next time you scratch, sir, you'll haf to git in,
My fine little feller, the best way you kin!
-Noey he learns him sich capers!-And they-
Both of 'em's ornier every day!-
Both tantilizin' and meaner'n sin-
Allus a-(Listen there!)- Jane: Let him in.
"-O! yer so innocent! hangin' yer head!-
(Drat ye! you'd better git under the bed!)
-Listen at that
He's tackled the cat!-
Hah, there! you little rip! come out o' that!-
Git yer blame little eyes scratcheed out
'Fore you know what yer talkin' about!-
Here! come away from there!-(Let him alone_
He'll snap you, I tell ye, as quick as a bone!)
Hi, Trip!-Hey, here!-What-a'-you-'bout!-
Oo! ouch! 'Ll I'll be blamed!-Blast ye! GIT OUT!
...O, it ain't nothin'-jist scratched me, you see.-
Hadn't no idy he'd try to bite me!
Plague take him!-Bet he'll not try that again!-
Hear him yelp.-(Pore feller!) Jane: Let him in."
THE LOEHRS AND THE HAMMONDS
"Hey, Bud! O Bud!" rang out a gleeful call,-
"The Loehrs is come to your house!" And a small
But very much elated little chap,
In snowy linen-suit and tassled cap,
Leaped from the back-fence just across the street
From Bixlers', and came galloping to meet
His equally delighted little pair
Of playmates, hurrying out to join him there-
"The Loehrs is come!-The Loehrs is come!" his glee
Augmented to a pitch of ecstasy
Communicated wildly, till the cry
"The Loehrs is come!" in chorus quavered high
And thrilling as some paean of challenge or
Soul-stirring chant of armied conqueror.
And who this avant courier of "the Loehrs"?-
This happiest of all boys out-o'-doors-
Who but Will Pierson, with his heart's excess
Of summer-warmth and light and breeziness!
"From our front winder I 'uz first to see
'Em all a-drivin' into town!" bragged he-
"An' seen 'em turnin' up the alley where
Your folks lives at. An' John an' Jake wuz there
Both in the wagon;-yes, an' Willy, too;
An' Mary - Yes, an' Edith - with bran-new
An' purtiest-trimmed hats 'at ever wuz! -
An' Susan, an' Janey. - An' the Hammonds-uz
In their fine buggy 'at they're ridin' roun'
So muc, all over an' aroun' the town
An' ever'where, - them city-people who's
A-visutin' at Loehrs-uz!"
Glorious news! -
THE GIRL FRIEND
Even more glorious when verified
In the boys' welcoming eyes of love and pride,
As one by one they greted their old friends
And neighbors. - Nor until their earth-life ends
Will that bright memory become less bright
Or dimmed indeed.
..Again, at candle-light,
The faces all are gathered. And how glad
The Mother's features, knowing that she had
Her dear, sweet Mary Loehr back again.--
She always was so proud of her; and then
The dear girl, in return, was happy, too,
And with a heart as loving, kind and true
As that maturer one which seemed to blend
As one the love of mother and of friend.
From time to time, as hand-in-hand they sat,
The fair girl whispered something low, whereat
A tender, wistful look would gather in
The mother-eyes; and then there would begin
A sudden cheerier talk, directed to
The stranger guests - the man and woman who,
It was explained, were coming now to make
Their temporary home in town for sake
Of the wife's somewhat failing health. Yes, they
Were city-people, seeking rest this way,
The man said, answering a query made
By some well meaning neighbor - with a shade
Of apprehension in the answer.... no, -
They had no children. As he answered so,
The man's arm went about his wife, and she
Leant toward him, with her eyes lit prayerfully:
Then she arose - he following - and bent
Above the little sleeping innocent
Within the cradle at the mother's side --
He patting her, all silent, as she cried.--
Though, haply, in the silence that ensued,
His musings made melodious interlude.
THE SILENT POEM
In the warm, health-giving weather
My poor pale wife and I
Drive up and down the little town
And the pleasant roads thereby:
Out in the wholesome country
We wind, from the main highway,
In through the wood's green solitudes -
Fair as the Lord's own Day.
We have lived so long together,
And joyed and mourned as one,
That each with each, with a look for speech,
Or a touch, may talk as none
But Love's elect may comprehend--
Why, the touch of her hand on mine
Speaks volume-wise, and the smile of her eyes,
To me, is a song divine.
There are many places that lure us: -
"The Old Wood Bridge" just west
Of town we know - and the creek below,
And the banks the boys love best:
And "Beech Grove," too, on the hill-top;
And "The Haunted House" beyond,
With its roof half off, and its old pump-trough
Adrift in the roadside pond.
We find our way to "The Marshes" --
At least where they used to be;
And "The Old Camp Grounds"' and "The Indian Mounds,"
And the trunk of "The Council Tree:"
We have stayed the cup, half lifted up,
Hearing the redbird sing.
And then, there is "Wesley Chapel,"
With its little graveyard, lone
At the crossroads there, though the sun sets fair
On wild-rose, mound and stone...
A wee bed under the willows--
My wife's hand on my own
And our horse stops, too... And we hear the coo
Of a dove in undertone.
The dusk, the dew, and the silence!
"Old Charley" turns his head
Homeward then by the pike again,
Though never a word is said--
One more stop, and a lingering one--
After the field and farms,--
At the old Toll Gate, with the woman await
With a little girl in her arms.
A SUMMONS FROM FLORETTY
The silence sank - Floretty came to call
The children in the kitchen, where they all
Went helter-skeltering with shout and din
Enough to drown most sanguine silence in, --
For well indeed they knew that summons meant
Taffy and popcorn - so with cheers they went.
THE HIRED MAN AND FLORETTY
The Hired Man's supper, which he sat before,
In near reach of the wood-box, the stove-door
And one leaf of the kitchen-table, was
Somewhat belated, and in lifted pause
His dextrous knife was balancing a bit
Of fried mush near the port awaiting it.
At the glad children's advent - gladder still
To find him there- "Jest tickled fit to kill
To see ye all!" he said, with unctious cheer.--
"I'm tryin'-like to he'p Floretty here
To git things cleared away and give ye room
Accordin' to yer stren'th. But I p'sume
It's a pore boarder, as the poet says,
That quarrels with his victuals, so I guess
I'll take another wedge o'that-air cake,
Florett', that you're a-learnin' how to bake."
He winked and feigned to swallow painfully.--
"Jest 'fore ye all come in, Floretty she
Was boastin' 'bout her biscuits-and they air
As good-sometimes-as you'll find anywhere.--
But, women gits to braggin' on their bread,
I'm s'picious 'bout their pie- as Danty said."
This raillery Floretty strangely seemed
To take as compliment, and fairly beamed
With pleasure at it all.
-"Speakin' o' bread--
When she come here to live," The Hired Man said,--
"Never ben out o' Freeport 'fore she come
Up here,- of course she needed 'sperience some.--
So, one day, when yer Ma was goin' to set
The risin' fer some bread, she sent Florett'
To borry leaven, 'crost at Ryan's-So
She went and asked fer twelve.-She didn't know,
But thought, whatever 'twaz, that she could keep
One fer herse'f, she said. O she wuz deep!"
Some little evidence of favor hailed
The Hired Man's humor; but it wholly failed
To touch the serious Susan Loehr, whose air
And thought rebuked them all to listening there
To her brief history of the city-man
And his pale wife-"A sweeter woman than
She ever saw!"-So Susan testified,-
And so attested all the Loehrs beside.-
So entertaining was the history, that
The Hired Man, in the corner where he sat
In quiet sequestration, shelling corn,
Ceased wholly, listening, with a face forlorn
As Sorrow's own, while Susan, John and Jake
Told of these strangers who had come to make
Some weeks' stay in the town, in hopes to gain
Once more the health the wife had sought in vain:
Their doctor, in the city, used to know
The Loehrs-Dan and Rachel-years ago,-
And so had sent a letter and request
For them to take a kindly interest
In favoring the couple all they could-
To find some home-place for them, if they would,
Among their friends in town. He ended by
A dozen further lines, explaining why
His patient must have change of scene and air-
New faces, and the simple friendships there
With them, which might, in time, make her forget
A grief that kept her ever brooding yet
And wholly melancholy and depressed,-
Nor yet could she find sleep by night nor rest
By day, for thinking-thinking-thinking still
Upon grief beyond the doctor's skill,-
The death of her one little girl.
"Pore thing!"
Floretty sighed, and with the turkey-wing
Brushed off the stove-hearth softly, and peered in
The kettle of molasses, with her thin
Voice wandering into song unconsciously-
In purest, if most witless, sympathy.-
"'Then sleep no more
Around thy heart
Some ten-der dream may i-dlee play
But mid-night song,
With mad-jick art,
Will chase that dree muh-way!'"
"That-air besetment of Floretty's," said
The Hired Man,-"singin'-she inhairited,-
Her father wuz addicted-same as her-
To singin'-yes, and played the dulcimer!
But-gittin' back,-I s'pose yer talkin' 'bout
Then Hammondses. Well, Hammond he gits out
Pattents on things-inventions-like, I'm told-
And's got more money'n a house could hold!
And yit he can't git up no pattent-right
To do away with dyin'.-And he might
Be worth a million, but he couldn't find
Nobody sellin' health of any kind!...
But they's no thing onhandier fer me
To use than other people's misery.-
Floretty, hand me that-air skillet there
And lem me git 'er het up, so's them-air
Children kin have their popcorn."
It was good
To hear him now, and so the children stood
Closer about him, waiting.
"Things to eat,"
The Hired Man went on, "'s mighty hard to beat!
Now, when I wuz a boy, we was so pore,
My parunts couldn't 'ford popcorn no more
To pamper me with;-so, I hat to go
Without popcorn-sometimes a year er so!-
And suffer'n' saints! how hungery I would git
Fer jest one other chance-like this-at it!
Many and many a time I've dreamp', at might,
About popcorn,-all busted open white,
And hot, you know-and jest enough o' salt
And butter on it fer to find no fault-
Oomh!-Well! as I was goin' on say,-
After a-dreamin' of it thataway,
Then havin' to wake up and find it's all
A dream, and haint had none-I'd think,
'Well, where's the use!'
And jest lay back and sob the plaster'n' loose!
And I have prayed, whatever happened, it
'Ud eether be popcorn er death!....And yit
I've noticed-more'n likely so have you-
That things don't happen when you want 'em to."
And thus he ran on artlessly, with speech
And work in equal exercise, till each
Tureen and bowl brimmed white. And then he greased
The saucers ready for the wax, and siezed
The fragrant-steaming kettle, at a sign
Made by Floretty; and, each child line,
He led out to the pump-where, in the dim
New coolness of the night, quite near to him
He felt Floretty's presence, fresh and sweet
As....dewy night-air after kitchen-heat.
There, still, with loud delight of laugh and jest,
They plied their subtle alchemy with zest-
Till, sudden, high above their tumult, welled
Out of the sitting-room a song which held
Them stilled in some strange rapture, listening
To the sweet blur of voices chorusing:-
"'When twilight approaches the season
That ever is sacred to song,
Does some one repeat my name over.
And sigh that I tarry so long?
And is there a chord in the music
That's missed when my voice is away?-
And a chord in each heart that awakens
Regret at my wearisome stay-ay-
Regret at my wearisome stay.'"
All to himself, THe Hired Man thought-"Of course
They'll sing Floretty homesick!'
...O strange source
Of ecstasy! O mystery of Song!-
To hear the dear old utterance flow along:-
"'Do they set me a chair near the table
When evening's home-pleasures are nigh?-
When the candles are lit in the parlor,
And the stars in the calm azure sky.'"....
Just then the moonlight sliced the porch slantwise,
And flashed in misty spangles in the eyes
Floretty clenched-while through the dark-"I jing!"
A voice asked, "Where's that song 'you'd learn to sing
Ef I sebt you the ballat?'-which I done
Last I was home at Freeport.-S'pose you run
And git it-and we'll all go in to where
They'll know the notes and sing it fer ye there."
And up the darkness of the old stairway
Floretty fled, without a word to say-
Save to herself some whisper muffled by
Her apron, as she wiped her lashes dry.
Returning, with a letter, which she laid
Upon the kitchen-table while she made
A hasty crock of "float,"-poured thence into
A deep glass dish of iridescent hue
And glint and sparkle, with an overflow
Of froth to crown it, foaming white as snow.-
and then-poundcake, and jelly-cake as rare,
For its delicious complement,-with air
Of Hebe mortalized, she led her can
Of votaries, rounded by The Hired Man.
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