Boarding the chaise
The morning came, the chaise was brought,But yet was not allowedTo drive up to the door, lest allShould say that she was proud.So three doors off the chaise was stayed,Where they did all get in,—Six precious souls, and all agogTo dash through thick and thin.Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,Were never folks so glad!The stones did rattle underneath,As if Cheapside were mad.John Gilpin at his horse’s side,Seized fast the flowing mane,And up he got, in haste to ride,But soon came down again:—For saddletree scarce reached had he,His journey to begin,When, turning round his head, he sawThree customers come in.So down he came; for loss of time,Although it grieved him sore,Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,Would trouble him much more.’Twas long before the customersWere suited to their mind,When Betty, screaming, came downstairs,“The wine is left behind!”“Good-lack!” quoth he, “yet bring it me,My leathern belt likewise,In which I bear my trusty sword,When I do exercise.”Now, Mrs. Gilpin (careful soul!)Had two stone bottles found,To hold the liquor that she loved,And keep it safe and sound.Each bottle had a curling ear,Through which the belt he drewAnd hung a bottle on each side,To make his balance true.Then over all, that he might beEquipped from top to toe,His long red cloak, well-brushed and neat,He manfully did throw.Now see him mounted once againUpon his nimble steed,Full slowly pacing o’er the stones,With caution and good heed.But finding soon a smoother roadBeneath his well-shod feet,The snorting beast began to trot,Which galled him in his seat.So, “Fair and softly!” John he cried,But John he cried in vain;That trot became a gallop soon,In spite of curb and rein.So stooping down, as needs he mustWho cannot sit upright,He grasped the mane with both his hands,And eke with all his might.His horse, who never in that sortHad handled been before,What thing upon his back had gotDid wonder more and more.Away went Gilpin, neck or nought;Away went hat and wig;He little dreamt, when he set out,Of running such a rig.
The morning came, the chaise was brought,But yet was not allowedTo drive up to the door, lest allShould say that she was proud.So three doors off the chaise was stayed,Where they did all get in,—Six precious souls, and all agogTo dash through thick and thin.Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,Were never folks so glad!The stones did rattle underneath,As if Cheapside were mad.John Gilpin at his horse’s side,Seized fast the flowing mane,And up he got, in haste to ride,But soon came down again:—For saddletree scarce reached had he,His journey to begin,When, turning round his head, he sawThree customers come in.So down he came; for loss of time,Although it grieved him sore,Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,Would trouble him much more.’Twas long before the customersWere suited to their mind,When Betty, screaming, came downstairs,“The wine is left behind!”“Good-lack!” quoth he, “yet bring it me,My leathern belt likewise,In which I bear my trusty sword,When I do exercise.”Now, Mrs. Gilpin (careful soul!)Had two stone bottles found,To hold the liquor that she loved,And keep it safe and sound.Each bottle had a curling ear,Through which the belt he drewAnd hung a bottle on each side,To make his balance true.Then over all, that he might beEquipped from top to toe,His long red cloak, well-brushed and neat,He manfully did throw.Now see him mounted once againUpon his nimble steed,Full slowly pacing o’er the stones,With caution and good heed.But finding soon a smoother roadBeneath his well-shod feet,The snorting beast began to trot,Which galled him in his seat.So, “Fair and softly!” John he cried,But John he cried in vain;That trot became a gallop soon,In spite of curb and rein.So stooping down, as needs he mustWho cannot sit upright,He grasped the mane with both his hands,And eke with all his might.His horse, who never in that sortHad handled been before,What thing upon his back had gotDid wonder more and more.Away went Gilpin, neck or nought;Away went hat and wig;He little dreamt, when he set out,Of running such a rig.
The morning came, the chaise was brought,But yet was not allowedTo drive up to the door, lest allShould say that she was proud.
The morning came, the chaise was brought,
But yet was not allowed
To drive up to the door, lest all
Should say that she was proud.
So three doors off the chaise was stayed,Where they did all get in,—Six precious souls, and all agogTo dash through thick and thin.
So three doors off the chaise was stayed,
Where they did all get in,—
Six precious souls, and all agog
To dash through thick and thin.
Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,Were never folks so glad!The stones did rattle underneath,As if Cheapside were mad.
Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,
Were never folks so glad!
The stones did rattle underneath,
As if Cheapside were mad.
John Gilpin at his horse’s side,Seized fast the flowing mane,And up he got, in haste to ride,But soon came down again:—
John Gilpin at his horse’s side,
Seized fast the flowing mane,
And up he got, in haste to ride,
But soon came down again:—
For saddletree scarce reached had he,His journey to begin,When, turning round his head, he sawThree customers come in.
For saddletree scarce reached had he,
His journey to begin,
When, turning round his head, he saw
Three customers come in.
So down he came; for loss of time,Although it grieved him sore,Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,Would trouble him much more.
So down he came; for loss of time,
Although it grieved him sore,
Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,
Would trouble him much more.
’Twas long before the customersWere suited to their mind,When Betty, screaming, came downstairs,“The wine is left behind!”
’Twas long before the customers
Were suited to their mind,
When Betty, screaming, came downstairs,
“The wine is left behind!”
“Good-lack!” quoth he, “yet bring it me,My leathern belt likewise,In which I bear my trusty sword,When I do exercise.”
“Good-lack!” quoth he, “yet bring it me,
My leathern belt likewise,
In which I bear my trusty sword,
When I do exercise.”
Now, Mrs. Gilpin (careful soul!)Had two stone bottles found,To hold the liquor that she loved,And keep it safe and sound.
Now, Mrs. Gilpin (careful soul!)
Had two stone bottles found,
To hold the liquor that she loved,
And keep it safe and sound.
Each bottle had a curling ear,Through which the belt he drewAnd hung a bottle on each side,To make his balance true.
Each bottle had a curling ear,
Through which the belt he drew
And hung a bottle on each side,
To make his balance true.
Then over all, that he might beEquipped from top to toe,His long red cloak, well-brushed and neat,He manfully did throw.
Then over all, that he might be
Equipped from top to toe,
His long red cloak, well-brushed and neat,
He manfully did throw.
Now see him mounted once againUpon his nimble steed,Full slowly pacing o’er the stones,With caution and good heed.
Now see him mounted once again
Upon his nimble steed,
Full slowly pacing o’er the stones,
With caution and good heed.
But finding soon a smoother roadBeneath his well-shod feet,The snorting beast began to trot,Which galled him in his seat.
But finding soon a smoother road
Beneath his well-shod feet,
The snorting beast began to trot,
Which galled him in his seat.
So, “Fair and softly!” John he cried,But John he cried in vain;That trot became a gallop soon,In spite of curb and rein.
So, “Fair and softly!” John he cried,
But John he cried in vain;
That trot became a gallop soon,
In spite of curb and rein.
So stooping down, as needs he mustWho cannot sit upright,He grasped the mane with both his hands,And eke with all his might.
So stooping down, as needs he must
Who cannot sit upright,
He grasped the mane with both his hands,
And eke with all his might.
His horse, who never in that sortHad handled been before,What thing upon his back had gotDid wonder more and more.
His horse, who never in that sort
Had handled been before,
What thing upon his back had got
Did wonder more and more.
Away went Gilpin, neck or nought;Away went hat and wig;He little dreamt, when he set out,Of running such a rig.
Away went Gilpin, neck or nought;
Away went hat and wig;
He little dreamt, when he set out,
Of running such a rig.
Away went Gilpin
The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,Like streamer long and gay,Till, loop and button, failing both,At last it flew away.Then might all people well discernThe bottles he had slung,—A bottle swinging at each side,As hath been said or sung.The dogs did bark, the children screamed,Up flew the windows all;And every soul cried out, “Well done!”As loud as he could bawl.Away went Gilpin—who but he?His fame soon spread around:“He carries weight! he rides a race!’Tis for a thousand pound!”And still, as fast as he drew near,’Twas wonderful to view,How in a trice the turnpike-menTheir gates wide open threw.And now, as he went bowing downHis reeking head full low,The bottles twain behind his backWere shattered at a blow.Down ran the wine into the road,Most piteous to be seen,Which made his horse’s flanks to smokeAs they had basted been.But still he seemed to carry weight,With leathern girdle braced;For all might see the bottle-necksStill dangling at his waist.Thus all through merry IslingtonThese gambols did he play,Until he came unto the WashOf Edmonton so gay;And there he threw the Wash aboutOn both sides of the way,Just like unto a trundling mop,Or a wild goose at play.At Edmonton, his loving wifeFrom the balcony espiedHer tender husband, wondering muchTo see how he did ride.“Stop, stop, John Gilpin!—Here’s the house!”They all at once did cry;“The dinner waits, and we are tired.”Said Gilpin,—”So am I!”But yet his horse was not a whitInclined to tarry there!For why?—his owner had a houseFull ten miles off, at Ware.So like an arrow swift he flew,Shot by an archer strong;So did he fly—which brings me toThe middle of my song.Away went Gilpin, out of breath,And sore against his will,Till at his friend the calender’sHis horse at last stood still.
The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,Like streamer long and gay,Till, loop and button, failing both,At last it flew away.Then might all people well discernThe bottles he had slung,—A bottle swinging at each side,As hath been said or sung.The dogs did bark, the children screamed,Up flew the windows all;And every soul cried out, “Well done!”As loud as he could bawl.Away went Gilpin—who but he?His fame soon spread around:“He carries weight! he rides a race!’Tis for a thousand pound!”And still, as fast as he drew near,’Twas wonderful to view,How in a trice the turnpike-menTheir gates wide open threw.And now, as he went bowing downHis reeking head full low,The bottles twain behind his backWere shattered at a blow.Down ran the wine into the road,Most piteous to be seen,Which made his horse’s flanks to smokeAs they had basted been.But still he seemed to carry weight,With leathern girdle braced;For all might see the bottle-necksStill dangling at his waist.Thus all through merry IslingtonThese gambols did he play,Until he came unto the WashOf Edmonton so gay;And there he threw the Wash aboutOn both sides of the way,Just like unto a trundling mop,Or a wild goose at play.At Edmonton, his loving wifeFrom the balcony espiedHer tender husband, wondering muchTo see how he did ride.“Stop, stop, John Gilpin!—Here’s the house!”They all at once did cry;“The dinner waits, and we are tired.”Said Gilpin,—”So am I!”But yet his horse was not a whitInclined to tarry there!For why?—his owner had a houseFull ten miles off, at Ware.So like an arrow swift he flew,Shot by an archer strong;So did he fly—which brings me toThe middle of my song.Away went Gilpin, out of breath,And sore against his will,Till at his friend the calender’sHis horse at last stood still.
The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,Like streamer long and gay,Till, loop and button, failing both,At last it flew away.
The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
Like streamer long and gay,
Till, loop and button, failing both,
At last it flew away.
Then might all people well discernThe bottles he had slung,—A bottle swinging at each side,As hath been said or sung.
Then might all people well discern
The bottles he had slung,—
A bottle swinging at each side,
As hath been said or sung.
The dogs did bark, the children screamed,Up flew the windows all;And every soul cried out, “Well done!”As loud as he could bawl.
The dogs did bark, the children screamed,
Up flew the windows all;
And every soul cried out, “Well done!”
As loud as he could bawl.
Away went Gilpin—who but he?His fame soon spread around:“He carries weight! he rides a race!’Tis for a thousand pound!”
Away went Gilpin—who but he?
His fame soon spread around:
“He carries weight! he rides a race!
’Tis for a thousand pound!”
And still, as fast as he drew near,’Twas wonderful to view,How in a trice the turnpike-menTheir gates wide open threw.
And still, as fast as he drew near,
’Twas wonderful to view,
How in a trice the turnpike-men
Their gates wide open threw.
And now, as he went bowing downHis reeking head full low,The bottles twain behind his backWere shattered at a blow.
And now, as he went bowing down
His reeking head full low,
The bottles twain behind his back
Were shattered at a blow.
Down ran the wine into the road,Most piteous to be seen,Which made his horse’s flanks to smokeAs they had basted been.
Down ran the wine into the road,
Most piteous to be seen,
Which made his horse’s flanks to smoke
As they had basted been.
But still he seemed to carry weight,With leathern girdle braced;For all might see the bottle-necksStill dangling at his waist.
But still he seemed to carry weight,
With leathern girdle braced;
For all might see the bottle-necks
Still dangling at his waist.
Thus all through merry IslingtonThese gambols did he play,Until he came unto the WashOf Edmonton so gay;
Thus all through merry Islington
These gambols did he play,
Until he came unto the Wash
Of Edmonton so gay;
And there he threw the Wash aboutOn both sides of the way,Just like unto a trundling mop,Or a wild goose at play.
And there he threw the Wash about
On both sides of the way,
Just like unto a trundling mop,
Or a wild goose at play.
At Edmonton, his loving wifeFrom the balcony espiedHer tender husband, wondering muchTo see how he did ride.
At Edmonton, his loving wife
From the balcony espied
Her tender husband, wondering much
To see how he did ride.
“Stop, stop, John Gilpin!—Here’s the house!”They all at once did cry;“The dinner waits, and we are tired.”Said Gilpin,—”So am I!”
“Stop, stop, John Gilpin!—Here’s the house!”
They all at once did cry;
“The dinner waits, and we are tired.”
Said Gilpin,—”So am I!”
But yet his horse was not a whitInclined to tarry there!For why?—his owner had a houseFull ten miles off, at Ware.
But yet his horse was not a whit
Inclined to tarry there!
For why?—his owner had a house
Full ten miles off, at Ware.
So like an arrow swift he flew,Shot by an archer strong;So did he fly—which brings me toThe middle of my song.
So like an arrow swift he flew,
Shot by an archer strong;
So did he fly—which brings me to
The middle of my song.
Away went Gilpin, out of breath,And sore against his will,Till at his friend the calender’sHis horse at last stood still.
Away went Gilpin, out of breath,
And sore against his will,
Till at his friend the calender’s
His horse at last stood still.
His horse at last stood still
The calender, amazed to seeHis neighbor in such trim,Laid down his pipe, flew to the gateAnd thus accosted him:“What news? what news? your tidings tell;Tell me you must and shall;Say, why bareheaded you are come,Or why you come at all!”Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,And loved a timely joke;And thus unto the calenderIn merry guise he spoke:“I came because your horse would come;And, if I well forbode,My hat and wig will soon be here,They are upon the road.”The calender, right glad to findHis friend in merry pin,Returned him not a single wordBut to the house went in;Whence straight he came with hat and wig,A wig that flowed behind,A hat not much the worse for wear,Each comely in its kind.He held them up, and in his turn,Thus showed his ready wit:“My head is twice as big as yours,They therefore needs must fit.“But let me scrape the dirt away,That hangs upon your face;And stop and eat, for well you mayBe in a hungry case.”Said John, “It is my wedding-day,And all the world would stare,If wife would dine at Edmonton,And I should dine at Ware.”So turning to his horse, he said—“I am in haste to dine:’Twas for your pleasure you came here,You shall go back for mine.”Ah! luckless speech, and bootless boast,For which he paid full dear;For, while he spake, a braying assDid sing most loud and clear:Whereat his horse did snort, as heHad heard a lion roar,And galloped off with all his might,As he had done before.Away went Gilpin, and awayWent Gilpin’s hat and wig;He lost them sooner than at first;For why?—they were too big.Now, mistress Gilpin, when she sawHer husband posting downInto the country—far away,She pulled out half-a-crown;And thus unto the youth, she said,That drove them to the Bell,“This shall be yours when you bring backMy husband, safe and well.”The youth did ride and soon did meetJohn coming back amain;Whom in a trice he tried to stop,By catching at his rein;But, not performing what he meant,And gladly would have done,The frighted steed he frighted more,And made him faster run.Away went Gilpin, and awayWent postboy at his heels,—The postboy’s horse right glad to missThe lumbering of the wheels.Six gentlemen upon the road,Thus seeing Gilpin fly,With postboy scampering in the rear,They raised the hue and cry:“Stop, thief! stop, thief!—a highwayman!”Not one of them was mute;And all and each that passed that wayDid join in the pursuit.And now the turnpike-gates againFlew open in short space;The toll-men thinking as before,That Gilpin rode a race.And so he did, and won it too,For he got first to town;Nor stopped till where he had got upHe did again get down.Now let us sing, long live the king,And Gilpin, long live he;And when he next doth ride abroad,May I be there to see!—William Cowper.
The calender, amazed to seeHis neighbor in such trim,Laid down his pipe, flew to the gateAnd thus accosted him:“What news? what news? your tidings tell;Tell me you must and shall;Say, why bareheaded you are come,Or why you come at all!”Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,And loved a timely joke;And thus unto the calenderIn merry guise he spoke:“I came because your horse would come;And, if I well forbode,My hat and wig will soon be here,They are upon the road.”The calender, right glad to findHis friend in merry pin,Returned him not a single wordBut to the house went in;Whence straight he came with hat and wig,A wig that flowed behind,A hat not much the worse for wear,Each comely in its kind.He held them up, and in his turn,Thus showed his ready wit:“My head is twice as big as yours,They therefore needs must fit.“But let me scrape the dirt away,That hangs upon your face;And stop and eat, for well you mayBe in a hungry case.”Said John, “It is my wedding-day,And all the world would stare,If wife would dine at Edmonton,And I should dine at Ware.”So turning to his horse, he said—“I am in haste to dine:’Twas for your pleasure you came here,You shall go back for mine.”Ah! luckless speech, and bootless boast,For which he paid full dear;For, while he spake, a braying assDid sing most loud and clear:Whereat his horse did snort, as heHad heard a lion roar,And galloped off with all his might,As he had done before.Away went Gilpin, and awayWent Gilpin’s hat and wig;He lost them sooner than at first;For why?—they were too big.Now, mistress Gilpin, when she sawHer husband posting downInto the country—far away,She pulled out half-a-crown;And thus unto the youth, she said,That drove them to the Bell,“This shall be yours when you bring backMy husband, safe and well.”The youth did ride and soon did meetJohn coming back amain;Whom in a trice he tried to stop,By catching at his rein;But, not performing what he meant,And gladly would have done,The frighted steed he frighted more,And made him faster run.Away went Gilpin, and awayWent postboy at his heels,—The postboy’s horse right glad to missThe lumbering of the wheels.Six gentlemen upon the road,Thus seeing Gilpin fly,With postboy scampering in the rear,They raised the hue and cry:“Stop, thief! stop, thief!—a highwayman!”Not one of them was mute;And all and each that passed that wayDid join in the pursuit.And now the turnpike-gates againFlew open in short space;The toll-men thinking as before,That Gilpin rode a race.And so he did, and won it too,For he got first to town;Nor stopped till where he had got upHe did again get down.Now let us sing, long live the king,And Gilpin, long live he;And when he next doth ride abroad,May I be there to see!—William Cowper.
The calender, amazed to seeHis neighbor in such trim,Laid down his pipe, flew to the gateAnd thus accosted him:
The calender, amazed to see
His neighbor in such trim,
Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate
And thus accosted him:
“What news? what news? your tidings tell;Tell me you must and shall;Say, why bareheaded you are come,Or why you come at all!”
“What news? what news? your tidings tell;
Tell me you must and shall;
Say, why bareheaded you are come,
Or why you come at all!”
Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,And loved a timely joke;And thus unto the calenderIn merry guise he spoke:
Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,
And loved a timely joke;
And thus unto the calender
In merry guise he spoke:
“I came because your horse would come;And, if I well forbode,My hat and wig will soon be here,They are upon the road.”
“I came because your horse would come;
And, if I well forbode,
My hat and wig will soon be here,
They are upon the road.”
The calender, right glad to findHis friend in merry pin,Returned him not a single wordBut to the house went in;
The calender, right glad to find
His friend in merry pin,
Returned him not a single word
But to the house went in;
Whence straight he came with hat and wig,A wig that flowed behind,A hat not much the worse for wear,Each comely in its kind.
Whence straight he came with hat and wig,
A wig that flowed behind,
A hat not much the worse for wear,
Each comely in its kind.
He held them up, and in his turn,Thus showed his ready wit:“My head is twice as big as yours,They therefore needs must fit.
He held them up, and in his turn,
Thus showed his ready wit:
“My head is twice as big as yours,
They therefore needs must fit.
“But let me scrape the dirt away,That hangs upon your face;And stop and eat, for well you mayBe in a hungry case.”
“But let me scrape the dirt away,
That hangs upon your face;
And stop and eat, for well you may
Be in a hungry case.”
Said John, “It is my wedding-day,And all the world would stare,If wife would dine at Edmonton,And I should dine at Ware.”
Said John, “It is my wedding-day,
And all the world would stare,
If wife would dine at Edmonton,
And I should dine at Ware.”
So turning to his horse, he said—“I am in haste to dine:’Twas for your pleasure you came here,You shall go back for mine.”
So turning to his horse, he said—
“I am in haste to dine:
’Twas for your pleasure you came here,
You shall go back for mine.”
Ah! luckless speech, and bootless boast,For which he paid full dear;For, while he spake, a braying assDid sing most loud and clear:
Ah! luckless speech, and bootless boast,
For which he paid full dear;
For, while he spake, a braying ass
Did sing most loud and clear:
Whereat his horse did snort, as heHad heard a lion roar,And galloped off with all his might,As he had done before.
Whereat his horse did snort, as he
Had heard a lion roar,
And galloped off with all his might,
As he had done before.
Away went Gilpin, and awayWent Gilpin’s hat and wig;He lost them sooner than at first;For why?—they were too big.
Away went Gilpin, and away
Went Gilpin’s hat and wig;
He lost them sooner than at first;
For why?—they were too big.
Now, mistress Gilpin, when she sawHer husband posting downInto the country—far away,She pulled out half-a-crown;
Now, mistress Gilpin, when she saw
Her husband posting down
Into the country—far away,
She pulled out half-a-crown;
And thus unto the youth, she said,That drove them to the Bell,“This shall be yours when you bring backMy husband, safe and well.”
And thus unto the youth, she said,
That drove them to the Bell,
“This shall be yours when you bring back
My husband, safe and well.”
The youth did ride and soon did meetJohn coming back amain;Whom in a trice he tried to stop,By catching at his rein;
The youth did ride and soon did meet
John coming back amain;
Whom in a trice he tried to stop,
By catching at his rein;
But, not performing what he meant,And gladly would have done,The frighted steed he frighted more,And made him faster run.
But, not performing what he meant,
And gladly would have done,
The frighted steed he frighted more,
And made him faster run.
Away went Gilpin, and awayWent postboy at his heels,—The postboy’s horse right glad to missThe lumbering of the wheels.
Away went Gilpin, and away
Went postboy at his heels,—
The postboy’s horse right glad to miss
The lumbering of the wheels.
Six gentlemen upon the road,Thus seeing Gilpin fly,With postboy scampering in the rear,They raised the hue and cry:
Six gentlemen upon the road,
Thus seeing Gilpin fly,
With postboy scampering in the rear,
They raised the hue and cry:
“Stop, thief! stop, thief!—a highwayman!”Not one of them was mute;And all and each that passed that wayDid join in the pursuit.
“Stop, thief! stop, thief!—a highwayman!”
Not one of them was mute;
And all and each that passed that way
Did join in the pursuit.
And now the turnpike-gates againFlew open in short space;The toll-men thinking as before,That Gilpin rode a race.
And now the turnpike-gates again
Flew open in short space;
The toll-men thinking as before,
That Gilpin rode a race.
And so he did, and won it too,For he got first to town;Nor stopped till where he had got upHe did again get down.
And so he did, and won it too,
For he got first to town;
Nor stopped till where he had got up
He did again get down.
Now let us sing, long live the king,And Gilpin, long live he;And when he next doth ride abroad,May I be there to see!—William Cowper.
Now let us sing, long live the king,
And Gilpin, long live he;
And when he next doth ride abroad,
May I be there to see!
—William Cowper.
The day was sultry, and towards noon a strong wind sprang up that roared in the pine tops like the dashing of distant billows, but without in the least degree abating the heat. The children were lying listlessly upon the floor, and the girl and I were finishing sunbonnets, when Mary suddenly exclaimed, “Bless us, mistress, what a smoke!”
I ran immediately to the door, but was not able to distinguish ten yards before me. The swamp immediately below us was on fire, and the heavy wind was driving a dense black cloud of smoke directly towards us.
“What can this mean?” I cried. “Who can have set fire to the fallow?” As I ceased speaking, John Thomas stood pale and trembling before me. “John, what is the meaning of this fire?”
“Oh, ma’am, I hope you will forgive me; it was I set fire to it, and I would give all I have in the world if I had not done it.”
“What is the danger?”
“Oh, I’m afraid that we shall all be burnt up,” said John, beginning to whimper. “What shall we do?”
“Why, we must get out of it as fast as we can, and leave the house to its fate.”
“We can’t get out,” said the man, in a low, hollow tone, which seemed the concentration of fear; “I would have got out of it if I could; but just step to the back door, ma’am, and see.”
Behind, before, on every side, we were surrounded by a wall of fire, burning furiously within a hundred yards of us, and cutting off all possibility of retreat; for, could we have found an opening through the burning heaps, we could not have seen our way through the dense canopy of smoke, and, buried as we were in the heart of the forest, no one could discover our situation till we were beyond the reach of help.
I closed the door, and went back to the parlor. Fear was knocking loudly at my heart, for our utter helplessness destroyed all hope of our being able to effect our escape. The girl sat upon the floor by the children, who, unconscious of the peril that hung over them, had both fallen asleep. She was silently weeping; while the boy who had caused the mischief was crying aloud.
A strange calm succeeded my first alarm. I sat down upon the step of the door, and watched the awful scene in silence. The fire was raging in the cedar swamp immediately below the ridge on which the house stood, and it presented a spectacle truly appalling.
From out of the dense folds of a canopy of black smoke—the blackest I ever saw—leaped up red forks of lurid flame as high as the tree-tops, igniting the branches of a group of tall pines that had been left for saw logs. A deep gloom blotted out the heavens from our sight. The air was filled with fiery particles, which floated even to the doorstep—while the crackling and roaring of the flames might have been heard at a great distance.
To reach the shore of the lake, we must pass through the burning swamp, and not a bird could pass over it with unscorched wings. The fierce wind drove the flames at the sides and back of the house up the clearing; and our passage to the road or to the forest, on the right and left, was entirely obstructed by a sea of flames. Our only ark of safety was the house, so long as it remained untouched by the fire.
I turned to young Thomas, and asked him how long he thought that would be. “When the fire clears this little ridge in front, ma’am. The Lord have mercy on us then, or we must all go.”
The heat soon became suffocating. We were parched with thirst, and there was not a drop of water in the house, and none to be procured nearer than the lake. I turned once more to the door, hoping that a passage might have been burnt through to the water. I saw nothing but a dense cloud of fire and smoke—could hear nothing but the crackling and roaring of flames, which were gaining so fast upon us that I felt their scorching breath in my face.
“Ah,” thought I—and it was a most bitter thought—”what will my beloved husband say when he returns and finds that his poor wife and his dear girls have perished in this miserable manner? But God can save us yet.”
The thought had scarcely found a voice in my heart before the wind rose to a hurricane, scattering the flames on all sides into a tempest of burning billows. I buried my head in my apron, for I thought that all was lost, when a most terrific crash of thunder burst over our heads, and, like the breaking of a waterspout, down came the rushing torrent of rain which had been pent up for so many weeks.
In a few minutes the chip yard was all afloat, and the fire effectually checked. The storm which, unnoticed by us, had been gathering all day, and which was the only one of any note we had that summer, continued to rage all night, and before morning had quite subdued the cruel enemy whose approach we had viewed with such dread.
—Susannah Moodie.
Hot was the battle, and bloody the fight,Cool was the evening and peaceful the night.From the camp in the wood where the valley lies lone,Three times the signalling trumpet has blown.Loud and ringing its clear notes fall,Over wood and field they hear the “Recall.”In troops and by knots, by three and by two,Back they straggle, the valiant few.Ah! not all are returning back;Full many a man doth the regiment lack.They were there in their places at reveillé,At night they lie cold, and pallid to see.And horses whose saddles are empty to-nightAre galloping wildly to left and to right.But the bray of the trumpet that sounds the recall,For the third time summoneth one and all.See the black stallion is pricking his ear,And neighs at the sound he is wont to hear.Look, how the brown ranges up to his side,It was ever his place when the trumpet cried.And next the blood-flecked dapple-grayLimps up to his place in the ranks to-day.By troops, by knots, by three and by two,Come riderless horses, to signal true.For horses and riders both know the “Recall,”And the trumpet-blast it is summoning all.And over three hundred came back that day,With empty saddles from that fierce fray.Over three hundred! How bloody the fightThat emptied so many saddles that night!Over three hundred! The struggle was sore:One man had fallen out of every four.Over three hundred! When trumpets blew,The riderless steeds to the flag were true.When ye talk of Gravelotte’s noble dead,Praise the horses that answered in their stead.—Gerok.
Hot was the battle, and bloody the fight,Cool was the evening and peaceful the night.From the camp in the wood where the valley lies lone,Three times the signalling trumpet has blown.Loud and ringing its clear notes fall,Over wood and field they hear the “Recall.”In troops and by knots, by three and by two,Back they straggle, the valiant few.Ah! not all are returning back;Full many a man doth the regiment lack.They were there in their places at reveillé,At night they lie cold, and pallid to see.And horses whose saddles are empty to-nightAre galloping wildly to left and to right.But the bray of the trumpet that sounds the recall,For the third time summoneth one and all.See the black stallion is pricking his ear,And neighs at the sound he is wont to hear.Look, how the brown ranges up to his side,It was ever his place when the trumpet cried.And next the blood-flecked dapple-grayLimps up to his place in the ranks to-day.By troops, by knots, by three and by two,Come riderless horses, to signal true.For horses and riders both know the “Recall,”And the trumpet-blast it is summoning all.And over three hundred came back that day,With empty saddles from that fierce fray.Over three hundred! How bloody the fightThat emptied so many saddles that night!Over three hundred! The struggle was sore:One man had fallen out of every four.Over three hundred! When trumpets blew,The riderless steeds to the flag were true.When ye talk of Gravelotte’s noble dead,Praise the horses that answered in their stead.—Gerok.
Hot was the battle, and bloody the fight,Cool was the evening and peaceful the night.
Hot was the battle, and bloody the fight,
Cool was the evening and peaceful the night.
From the camp in the wood where the valley lies lone,Three times the signalling trumpet has blown.
From the camp in the wood where the valley lies lone,
Three times the signalling trumpet has blown.
Loud and ringing its clear notes fall,Over wood and field they hear the “Recall.”
Loud and ringing its clear notes fall,
Over wood and field they hear the “Recall.”
In troops and by knots, by three and by two,Back they straggle, the valiant few.
In troops and by knots, by three and by two,
Back they straggle, the valiant few.
Ah! not all are returning back;Full many a man doth the regiment lack.
Ah! not all are returning back;
Full many a man doth the regiment lack.
They were there in their places at reveillé,At night they lie cold, and pallid to see.
They were there in their places at reveillé,
At night they lie cold, and pallid to see.
And horses whose saddles are empty to-nightAre galloping wildly to left and to right.
And horses whose saddles are empty to-night
Are galloping wildly to left and to right.
But the bray of the trumpet that sounds the recall,For the third time summoneth one and all.
But the bray of the trumpet that sounds the recall,
For the third time summoneth one and all.
See the black stallion is pricking his ear,And neighs at the sound he is wont to hear.
See the black stallion is pricking his ear,
And neighs at the sound he is wont to hear.
Look, how the brown ranges up to his side,It was ever his place when the trumpet cried.
Look, how the brown ranges up to his side,
It was ever his place when the trumpet cried.
And next the blood-flecked dapple-grayLimps up to his place in the ranks to-day.
And next the blood-flecked dapple-gray
Limps up to his place in the ranks to-day.
By troops, by knots, by three and by two,Come riderless horses, to signal true.
By troops, by knots, by three and by two,
Come riderless horses, to signal true.
For horses and riders both know the “Recall,”And the trumpet-blast it is summoning all.
For horses and riders both know the “Recall,”
And the trumpet-blast it is summoning all.
And over three hundred came back that day,With empty saddles from that fierce fray.
And over three hundred came back that day,
With empty saddles from that fierce fray.
Over three hundred! How bloody the fightThat emptied so many saddles that night!
Over three hundred! How bloody the fight
That emptied so many saddles that night!
Over three hundred! The struggle was sore:One man had fallen out of every four.
Over three hundred! The struggle was sore:
One man had fallen out of every four.
Over three hundred! When trumpets blew,The riderless steeds to the flag were true.
Over three hundred! When trumpets blew,
The riderless steeds to the flag were true.
When ye talk of Gravelotte’s noble dead,Praise the horses that answered in their stead.—Gerok.
When ye talk of Gravelotte’s noble dead,
Praise the horses that answered in their stead.
—Gerok.
From “German Ballads,” translated by Elizabeth Craigmyle, by permission of Walter Scott & Co. Limited.
I know a place where the sun is like gold,And the cherry-blooms burst with snow;And down underneath is the loveliest nook,Where the four-leaf clovers grow.One leaf is for hope, and one is for faith,And one is for love, you know,But God put another in for luck—If you search, you will find where they grow.But you must have hope, and you must have faith,You must love and be strong, and so,If you work, if you wait, you will find the placeWhere the four-leaf clovers grow.—Ella Higginson.
I know a place where the sun is like gold,And the cherry-blooms burst with snow;And down underneath is the loveliest nook,Where the four-leaf clovers grow.One leaf is for hope, and one is for faith,And one is for love, you know,But God put another in for luck—If you search, you will find where they grow.But you must have hope, and you must have faith,You must love and be strong, and so,If you work, if you wait, you will find the placeWhere the four-leaf clovers grow.—Ella Higginson.
I know a place where the sun is like gold,And the cherry-blooms burst with snow;And down underneath is the loveliest nook,Where the four-leaf clovers grow.
I know a place where the sun is like gold,
And the cherry-blooms burst with snow;
And down underneath is the loveliest nook,
Where the four-leaf clovers grow.
One leaf is for hope, and one is for faith,And one is for love, you know,But God put another in for luck—If you search, you will find where they grow.
One leaf is for hope, and one is for faith,
And one is for love, you know,
But God put another in for luck—
If you search, you will find where they grow.
But you must have hope, and you must have faith,You must love and be strong, and so,If you work, if you wait, you will find the placeWhere the four-leaf clovers grow.—Ella Higginson.
But you must have hope, and you must have faith,
You must love and be strong, and so,
If you work, if you wait, you will find the place
Where the four-leaf clovers grow.
—Ella Higginson.
One day, in one of the rich provinces of China, an African magician stopped to watch some boys at play. Being a magician, he knew that one of them was called Aladdin, that his father was dead, that he and his mother lived alone, and that he was a careless, idle fellow, just such a boy as would be helpful to him, and one out of whom he could make a tool.
The stranger, going up to Aladdin, touched him on the shoulder, and said, “My lad, are you not the son of Mustapha, the tailor?”
“Yes,” answered the boy, “but my father has been dead for some time.” On hearing this, the magician grieved greatly, and, embracing Aladdin, said, “I am your father’s brother; go tell your mother I shall come and sup with her to-night.” He then gave a handful of money to the boy, who hastened home to relate to his mother all that had happened.
That night the stranger came. At the evening meal he expressed great admiration for Aladdin, saying: “He must be very like what his father was at his age; though it is forty years since I left my native country, my love for my brother has kept his features in my mind, and I recollected them the moment I saw the boy.”
When he asked Aladdin what trade he had chosen, thelad hung his head in shame at not being able to give an answer to that question. His mother replied that he was a worthless fellow, who cared only to loiter in the streets. The magician reproved him for his idleness, and offered to make a merchant of him, if he would but apply himself to business. This Aladdin promised to do. His pretended uncle provided him with fine clothing, and with many favors, won the confidence of the boy and his mother.
One morning the magician set out with Aladdin to show him something very wonderful. At length they came to a valley which separated two mountains. Aladdin was directed to gather dry sticks and kindle a fire. When this was done, the magician, pronouncing certain magical words, cast a perfume into the blaze. Immediately a great smoke arose, the earth trembled and opened, showing a large, flat stone. Then he said to the frightened boy, “There is hidden under that stone an immense treasure, which you may possess if you will carefully follow my instructions.” Aladdin promised exact obedience. The magician then embraced him, and putting a ring which would protect him from danger upon his finger, bade him pronounce the names of his father and his grandfather and raise the stone. Aladdin obeyed, and discovered a hole several feet deep, and steps to descend lower.
“Observe,” said the magician, “what I am about to tell you. Not only the possession of the treasure, but your lifeitself depends on your careful attention. I have opened the cave, but am forbidden to enter it. That honor is for you alone. Go down boldly, then. At the bottom of the steps you will find three great halls, but touch nothing in them. At the end of the halls you will come to a garden; at the farther end of it you will find a lamp, burning in a niche. Take that lamp down, throw away the wick, pour out the liquid, and put the lamp into your bosom to bring to me.”
Aladdin secured the treasure and stopped to admire the trees, which were loaded with fruits of many colors. He knew nothing of the value of these fruits, but was so pleased with their beauty that he filled his pockets. Then he returned to the entrance and called to his uncle to assist him in getting out.
Through his magic, the magician had learned that if he could possess a lamp hidden somewhere underground, it would make him more powerful than any prince in the world, and he had resolved to have some friendless boy bring him the wonderful talisman and then shut him up in the cave. When Aladdin called for help, the magician refused to assist him until he should give him the lamp, but this the boy would not do until he was out of the cave. The dispute lasted a long time, when the magician became so angry that he pronounced two magical words, which replaced the stone and closed the earth. By this means he lost all hope of obtaining the lamp; it was forever out of his power to open the cave again. He set off immediately for his own country.
In vain did the terrified boy call upon his uncle to let him out. He was in great despair. In this state he continued for two days, but on the third day, in distress, he happened to clasp his hands together, and in doing so rubbed the ring which the magician had put upon his finger, and in his haste had forgotten to take away. Immediately an enormous genie rose out of the earth, and said, “What wouldst thou? I am ready to obey thee as thy slave whilst thou wearest that ring, I and the other slaves of the ring.” Aladdin answered, “I charge thee, by the ring, if thou art able, to release me from this place.” He had no sooner spoken than the earth opened and the genie lifted him up to the surface, and immediately disappeared.
Aladdin hastened home and related all to his mother, who was overjoyed to see him, but distressed that she had no money with which to buy food for him. They agreed to sell the lamp he had brought home, but to clean it first, thinking if it were clean, it would bring a greater price. As the mother began to rub it with sand and water, a genie of gigantic size stood before her and said, “What wouldst thou? I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, the slave of all those who hold that lamp in their hands.”
The poor woman, overcome with fear, let the lamp fall, but Aladdin caught it, and said, “I am hungry; bring mesomething to eat at once.” The genie disappeared and returned with a large silver basin, containing twelve covered plates of the same metal, all full of the choicest dainties. When the provisions were all gone, Aladdin sold the plates one by one for the support of himself and his mother.
One day Aladdin saw the beautiful daughter of the sultan. He was so impressed with her beauty, that he requested his mother to go to the sultan and to ask for him the hand of the princess in marriage. The poor woman objected, saying, “How can I go to the sultan with such a message? What extravagant madness! Besides, no one approaches the sovereign to ask a favor without a gift. What have you to offer the sultan, even for his smallest favor, much less for the highest he can bestow?”
“I own,” replied Aladdin, “my wishes are extravagant, but you should not think I can send no gift to the sultan. I am able to furnish you with one I am sure he will accept.”
Then Aladdin arranged the fruits he had brought from the cavern, but which in reality were magnificent jewels, in a vessel of fine porcelain, and persuaded his mother to carry them to the monarch. “Depend upon it, my son,” she said, “your present will be thrown away. The sultan will either laugh at me, or be in so great a rage that he will make us both the victims of his fury.”
The following day Aladdin’s mother appeared before the sultan and with great fear made known her son’s desire.The instant the sultan heard it, he burst into laughter, but when he saw the marvellous jewels, his amusement gave place to amazement. He said, “My good woman, return to your son and tell him he shall marry the princess when he sends to me forty basins of gold, each filled with the same kind of stones, each basin to be carried by a black slave, led by a young and handsome white slave, all handsomely dressed.”
Full of disappointment the mother returned, but Aladdin received her message with great pleasure. He rubbed his wonderful lamp. The genie instantly appeared. Aladdin told him of the sultan’s demand, and ordered him to provide all that was required. In a very short time the house was filled with the forty black slaves, each carrying a large gold basin filled with precious stones, and covered with a silver cloth embroidered in gold. Each black slave was led by a white one. Aladdin requested his mother to take this gift to the sultan.
All the passers-by stopped to gaze at the procession on its way to the palace. The astonishment of the sultan himself was great. He turned to Aladdin’s mother and said, “Go, my good woman, tell your son I am waiting with open arms to receive him.”
The joy with which Aladdin received the message Was unutterable. When he arrived at court, the sultan came from his throne to meet him, and ordered the marriage totake place at once. But Aladdin begged that he might have time to build a palace for the charming princess, and asked the sultan to select a suitable place for it.
“My son,” said the sultan, “take the large open space before my palace; that may suit your purpose.”
Aladdin returned home, summoned the genie, and ordered him to build a magnificent palace opposite that of the sultan. The next morning at daybreak the genie appeared and said, “Sir, your palace is finished; come, see if it is as you desire.” The sultan was astonished; the princess delighted. The marriage took place that day. For months they lived in great happiness, and Aladdin won the love of the people by his generosity.
About this time the wicked magician learned that Aladdin had been very fortunate. He determined to destroy him, and immediately set off for China. On his arrival, he mingled with the people at the inns, and from them learned that the prince had gone on a hunting expedition, and would not return for several days.
His next step was to obtain the lamp. He bought a dozen shining new ones, placed them in a basket, then went to the palace, crying out, “Who will change old lamps for new?” He drew a crowd of idle people about him, so that the noise they made attracted the princess. One of the women in waiting said, “Let us try if this man is as silly as he pretends to be. There is an old copper lamp on a cornice;if the princess pleases, we shall see if he will give a new one for the old.”
The princess consented, and the exchange was made. Alas, poor princess! The magician had obtained the very prize he sought. At midnight he rubbed the lamp. The genie appeared, saying, “What wouldst thou? I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, the slave of all those who possess the lamp.” “I command thee,” said the magician, “to transport the palace which thou hast built, and all who are within, to a place in Africa.” The genie obeyed.
The next morning the grief and anger of the sultan were terrible when he found that both his daughter and the palace had disappeared. He blamed Aladdin. He exclaimed, “Where is that impostor? Let his head pay the price of his wickedness!”
Soldiers were sent in search of Aladdin, whom they met on his return from hunting. He was dragged before the sultan as a criminal and ordered to be instantly beheaded. But the people of the province, who loved him very much, burst into the palace, and so alarmed the sultan that he ordered the executioner to set him at liberty.
Then Aladdin said, “Oh, sire, let me know my crime.”
“You should know where your palace stood. Look and tell me what has become of it.”
Aladdin was overcome with grief and despair. This angered the sultan still more, and he exclaimed, “Bringback my daughter, whom I value a thousand times beyond that palace; fail to do so, and nothing shall prevent me from putting you to death.” Aladdin said: “Give me forty days to search for my dear princess. If I am unsuccessful, I shall return and deliver myself into your hands.”
“I give you forty days,” said the sultan.
Aladdin, wretched and downfallen, left the palace. As he wandered by the bank of the river his foot slipped, and catching hold of a piece of rock to save himself, he pressed the magician’s ring that he wore on his finger. The genie of the ring appeared, saying, “What wouldst thou have?” Aladdin cried out, “Oh, genie, bring back my palace to where it stood.” “I cannot do what you command,” replied the genie; “you must ask the slave of the lamp.” “At least,” begged Aladdin, “convey me to the place where it now stands, and set me under the princess’s window.” Instantly he found himself beside his palace.
The princess was walking in her chamber and weeping for him. Happening to draw near the window, she saw Aladdin, and at once sent one of her slaves to bring him into the palace by a private gate. When the joy of their meeting had subsided, the princess told him they were in Africa. Then Aladdin knew it was the wicked magician who had caused all his trouble, and he asked his wife what had become of the old lamp he had left on the cornice of the hall. The princess told him that her woman had exchanged it for a newone, and that the tyrant in whose power she was, carried that very lamp in his bosom, and that every day he paid her a visit. They at last laid a plan by which they hoped to regain possession of the talisman.
Aladdin went to the city in disguise as a slave; and bought a powder which, if swallowed, would cause instant death. In the evening the magician waited upon the princess, who received him very graciously. After supper, when the wine was placed before them, the princess gave a signal to the servant, who placed a golden goblet before each of them. In that of the princess was the powder Aladdin had given her. Wine being poured, the princess told the magician that in China it was customary to exchange cups, and at the same time held her goblet out to him. He eagerly made the exchange, and, drinking it all at one draught, fell senseless on the floor.
When the magician fell, Aladdin, who had been watching, ran to him, hastily snatched the lamp and rubbed it. When the genie appeared, he commanded him to transport the palace and all it contained to the place from which he had brought it.
The sultan had continued to grieve for his daughter, and every day went to his window to look at the spot where the palace had stood. As usual, the morning after the return of the palace, he went to the window, expecting to see the spot still vacant, but, to his unspeakable joy, there he sawthe glorious palace standing. He hastened to greet his daughter and her husband, and he and Aladdin at once forgave each other. The whole city rejoiced at the safe return of their beloved prince and his princess. After the death of the sultan, Aladdin and the princess ascended the throne. They ruled wisely and well for many years, and left noble sons and daughters to mourn their death.
—The Arabian Nights’ Entertainment.
All peacefully gliding, the waters dividing,The indolent bateau moved slowly along;The rowers, light-hearted, from sorrow long parted,Beguiled the dull moments with laughter and song:“Hurrah for the Rapid! that merrily, merrilyGambols and leaps on its tortuous way;Soon we shall enter it, cheerily, cheerily,Pleased with its freshness, and wet with its spray.”More swiftly careering, the wild Rapid nearing,They dashed down the stream like a terrified steed;The surges delight them, no terrors affright them,Their voices keep pace with their quickening speed;“Hurrah for the Rapid! that merrily, merrilyShivers its arrows against us in play;Now we have entered it, cheerily, cheerily,Our spirits as light as its feathery spray.”Fast downwards they’re dashing, each fearless eye flashing,Though danger awaits them on every side;Yon rock—see it frowning! they strike—they are drowning!But downwards they speed with the merciless tide.No voice cheers the Rapid, that angrily, angrilyShivers their bark in its maddening play;Gayly they entered it—heedlessly, recklessly,Mingling their lives with its treacherous spray!—Charles Sangster.
All peacefully gliding, the waters dividing,The indolent bateau moved slowly along;The rowers, light-hearted, from sorrow long parted,Beguiled the dull moments with laughter and song:“Hurrah for the Rapid! that merrily, merrilyGambols and leaps on its tortuous way;Soon we shall enter it, cheerily, cheerily,Pleased with its freshness, and wet with its spray.”More swiftly careering, the wild Rapid nearing,They dashed down the stream like a terrified steed;The surges delight them, no terrors affright them,Their voices keep pace with their quickening speed;“Hurrah for the Rapid! that merrily, merrilyShivers its arrows against us in play;Now we have entered it, cheerily, cheerily,Our spirits as light as its feathery spray.”Fast downwards they’re dashing, each fearless eye flashing,Though danger awaits them on every side;Yon rock—see it frowning! they strike—they are drowning!But downwards they speed with the merciless tide.No voice cheers the Rapid, that angrily, angrilyShivers their bark in its maddening play;Gayly they entered it—heedlessly, recklessly,Mingling their lives with its treacherous spray!—Charles Sangster.
All peacefully gliding, the waters dividing,The indolent bateau moved slowly along;The rowers, light-hearted, from sorrow long parted,Beguiled the dull moments with laughter and song:“Hurrah for the Rapid! that merrily, merrilyGambols and leaps on its tortuous way;Soon we shall enter it, cheerily, cheerily,Pleased with its freshness, and wet with its spray.”
All peacefully gliding, the waters dividing,
The indolent bateau moved slowly along;
The rowers, light-hearted, from sorrow long parted,
Beguiled the dull moments with laughter and song:
“Hurrah for the Rapid! that merrily, merrily
Gambols and leaps on its tortuous way;
Soon we shall enter it, cheerily, cheerily,
Pleased with its freshness, and wet with its spray.”
More swiftly careering, the wild Rapid nearing,They dashed down the stream like a terrified steed;The surges delight them, no terrors affright them,Their voices keep pace with their quickening speed;“Hurrah for the Rapid! that merrily, merrilyShivers its arrows against us in play;Now we have entered it, cheerily, cheerily,Our spirits as light as its feathery spray.”
More swiftly careering, the wild Rapid nearing,
They dashed down the stream like a terrified steed;
The surges delight them, no terrors affright them,
Their voices keep pace with their quickening speed;
“Hurrah for the Rapid! that merrily, merrily
Shivers its arrows against us in play;
Now we have entered it, cheerily, cheerily,
Our spirits as light as its feathery spray.”
Fast downwards they’re dashing, each fearless eye flashing,Though danger awaits them on every side;Yon rock—see it frowning! they strike—they are drowning!But downwards they speed with the merciless tide.No voice cheers the Rapid, that angrily, angrilyShivers their bark in its maddening play;Gayly they entered it—heedlessly, recklessly,Mingling their lives with its treacherous spray!—Charles Sangster.
Fast downwards they’re dashing, each fearless eye flashing,
Though danger awaits them on every side;
Yon rock—see it frowning! they strike—they are drowning!
But downwards they speed with the merciless tide.
No voice cheers the Rapid, that angrily, angrily
Shivers their bark in its maddening play;
Gayly they entered it—heedlessly, recklessly,
Mingling their lives with its treacherous spray!
—Charles Sangster.
He liveth long who liveth well;All else is life but flung away;He liveth longest who can tellOf true things truly done each day.Then fill each hour with what will last;Buy up the moments as they go;The life above, when this is past,Is the ripe fruit of life below.—Horatio Bonar.
He liveth long who liveth well;All else is life but flung away;He liveth longest who can tellOf true things truly done each day.Then fill each hour with what will last;Buy up the moments as they go;The life above, when this is past,Is the ripe fruit of life below.—Horatio Bonar.
He liveth long who liveth well;All else is life but flung away;He liveth longest who can tellOf true things truly done each day.
He liveth long who liveth well;
All else is life but flung away;
He liveth longest who can tell
Of true things truly done each day.
Then fill each hour with what will last;Buy up the moments as they go;The life above, when this is past,Is the ripe fruit of life below.—Horatio Bonar.
Then fill each hour with what will last;
Buy up the moments as they go;
The life above, when this is past,
Is the ripe fruit of life below.
—Horatio Bonar.
Daffydowndilly was so called because in his nature he resembled a flower, and loved to do only what was beautiful and agreeable, and took no delight in labor of any kind. But while Daffydowndilly was yet a little boy, his mother sent him away from his pleasant home, and put him under the care of a very strict schoolmaster, who went by the name of Mr. Toil. Those who knew him best affirmed that this Mr. Toil was a very worthy character; and that he had done more good, both to children and grown people, than anybody else in the world. Certainly he had lived long enough to do a great deal of good; for, if all stories be true, he had dwelt upon earth ever since Adam was driven from the garden of Eden.
Nevertheless, Mr. Toil had a severe and ugly countenance, especially for such little boys or big men as were inclined to be idle; his voice, too, was harsh; and all his ways and customs seemed very disagreeable to our friend Daffydowndilly. The whole day long this terrible old schoolmaster sat at his desk overlooking the scholars, or stalked about the schoolroom with a certain awful birch-rod in his hand. Now came a rap over the shoulders of a boy whom Mr. Toil had caught at play, now he punished a whole class who were behindhand with their lessons; and, in short, unless a lad chose to attend quietly and constantly to his book, he had no chance of enjoying a quiet moment in the schoolroom of Mr. Toil.
“This will never do for me,” thought Daffydowndilly.
Now the whole of Daffydowndilly’s life had hitherto been passed with his dear mother, who had a much sweeter face than old Mr. Toil, and who had always been very indulgent to her little boy. No wonder, therefore, that poor Daffydowndilly found it a woful change to be sent away from the good lady’s side, and put under the care of this ugly-visaged schoolmaster, who never gave him any apples or cakes, and seemed to think that little boys were created only to get lessons.
“I can’t bear it any longer,” said Daffydowndilly to himself, when he had been at school about a week. “I’ll run away and try to find my dear mother; and, at any rate, I shall never find anybody half so disagreeable as this old Mr. Toil!”
So, the very next morning, off started poor Daffydowndilly, and began his rambles about the world, with only some bread and cheese for his breakfast, and very little pocket-money to pay his expenses. But he had gone only a short distance when he overtook a man of grave and sedate appearance, who was trudging at a moderate pace along the road.
Mr. Toil
Mr. Toil
“Good morning, my fine lad,” said the stranger; and his voice seemed hard and severe, but yet had a sort ofkindness in it. “Whence do you come so early, and whither are you going?”