Brownies: Their Book

<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</SPAN></span></p> <h2>THE BROWNIES' FRIENDLY TURN.</h2> <div class='poem'> <span class='smcap'>One</span> night while snow was lying deep<br/> On level plain and mountain steep,<br/> A sheltered nook the Brownies found,<br/> Where conversation might go 'round.<br/></div> <div class='center'> <table class="woodsupply" summary="woodsupply"> <tr><td align='left'><br/><br/> <div class='hang1'>Said one: "The people hereabout</div> <div class='hang1'>Their wood supply have taken out;</div> <div class='hang1'>But while they stripped the timber lot,</div> <div class='hang1'>The village parson they forgot.</div> <br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/></td></tr> </table></div> <div class='poem'> Now that good man, the story goes,<br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</SPAN></span>As best he can, must warm his toes."<br/> Another spoke: "The way is clear<br/> To show both skill and courage here.<br/> You're not the sort, I know, to shirk:<br/> And coward-like to flee from work.<br/> You act at once whene'er you find<br/> A chance to render service kind,<br/> Nor wait to see what others do<br/> In matters that appeal to you.<br/></div> <div class='poem5'><br/> "This task in waiting must be done<br/> Before another day has run.<br/> The signs of change are in the air;<br/> A storm is near though skies are fair;<br/></div> <div class='poem9'> As oft when smiles the broadest lie,<br/> The tears are nearest to the eye.<br/> To work let every Brownie bend,<br/> And prove to-night the parson's friend.<br/> We'll not take oxen from the stall,<br/> That through the day must pull and haul,<br/></div> <div class='poem5'> Nor horses from the manger lead;<br/> But let them take the rest they need.<br/> Since mystic power is at our call,<br/> By our own selves we'll do it all.<br/></div> <div class='poem9'> Our willing arms shall take the place<br/> Of clanking chain and leathern trace,<br/> And 'round the door the wood we'll strew<br/> Until we hide the house from view."<br/></div> <div class='poem'><br/> At once the Brownies sought the ground<br/> Where fuel could with ease be found,&mdash;<br/> A place where forest-fires had spread,<br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</SPAN></span>And left the timber scorched and dead.<br/> And there throughout the chilly night<br/> They tugged and tore with all their might;<br/> Some bearing branches as their load;<br/> With lengthy poles still others strode,<br/></div> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i128.png" width-obs="408" height-obs="500" alt="Tugged and tore" title="" /></div> <div class='poem'> Or struggled till they scarce could see,<br/> With logs that bent them like a V;<br/> While more from under drifts of snow<br/> Removed old trees, and made them go<br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</SPAN></span>Like plows along the icy street,<br/> With half their limbs and roots complete.<br/> Some found it hard to train their log<br/> To keep its place through jolt and jog,<br/> While some, mistaking ditch for road,<br/> Were almost buried with their load,<br/> And but for friends and promptest care,<br/> The morning light had found them there.<br/></div> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i129a.png" width-obs="317" height-obs="129" alt="Pulling" title="" /></div> <div class='center'> <table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="poem and drawing"> <tr><td align='left' valign='bottom'><ANTIMG src="images/i129b.png" width-obs="101" height-obs="80" alt="Holding him up" title="" /> </td><td align='left'>The wind that night was cold and keen,<br/> And frosted Brownies oft were seen.<br/> They clapped their hands and stamped their toes,<br/> They rubbed with snow each numbing nose,<br/> And drew the frost from every face<br/> Before it proved a painful case.</td><td align='left' valign='bottom'><ANTIMG src="images/i129c.png" width-obs="102" height-obs="94" alt="Holding his foot" title="" /> </td></tr> </table></div> <div class='poem'> And thus, in spite of every ill,<br/> The task was carried forward still.<br/> Some were by nature well designed<br/> For work of this laborious kind,<br/> And never felt so truly great,<br/> As when half crushed beneath a weight.<br/> While wondering comrades stood aghast,<br/> And thought each step must be the last.<br/></div> <div class='center'> <table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="drawing and poem"> <tr><td align='left'>But some were slight and ill could bear<br/> The heavy loads that proved their share,<br/> </td><td align='left'><ANTIMG src="images/i129d.png" width-obs="81" height-obs="87" alt="under a log" title="" /> </td></tr> </table></div> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</SPAN></span></p> <div class='poem'> Though at some sport or cunning plan<br/> They far beyond their comrades ran.<br/> <br/> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Around the house some staid to pile</span><br/> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">The gathered wood in proper style;</span><br/> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Which ever harder work they found</span><br/> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">As high and higher rose the mound.</span><br/> <br/> Above the window-sill it grew,<br/> And next, the cornice hid from view;<br/> And, ere the dawn had forced a stop,<br/> The pile o'erlooked the chimney-top.<br/> <br/></div> <div class='poem8'> Some hands were sore, some backs were blue,<br/> And legs were scraped with slipping through<br/> Where ice and snow had left their mark<br/> On rounded log and smoothest bark.<br/> <br/></div> <div class='poem'> That morning, when the parson rose,<br/> Against the pane he pressed his nose,<br/> And tried the outer world to scan<br/> To learn how signs of weather ran.<br/> <br/> But, 'round the house, behind, before,<br/> In front of window, shed, and door,<br/> The wood was piled to such a height<br/> But little sky was left in sight!<br/></div> <div class='center'> <table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="poem and drawing"> <tr><td align='left'><ANTIMG src="images/i130.png" width-obs="131" height-obs="113" alt="In the snow" title="" /> </td><td align='left'>When next he climbed his pulpit stair,<br/> He touched upon the strange affair,<br/> And asked a blessing rich to fall<br/> Upon the heads and homes of all<br/> Who through the night had worked so hard<br/> To heap the fuel 'round the yard.</td></tr> </table></div> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</SPAN></span></p> <div class='poem'>His hearers knew they had no claim<br/> To such a blessing if it came,<br/> But whispered: "We don't understand&mdash;<br/> It must have been the Brownie Band."<br/></div> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i131.png" width-obs="454" height-obs="502" alt="Hauling logs" title="" /></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />