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 A SUMMER IDYL, 
 
 AX IDLE TALE, AS A MERE TRIFLE FOR AN IDLE 
 DINNER WRIT, 
 
 IDLE SINNER, 
 
 at forestdale, where each tale, however stale, was a sure 
 winner; now printed, privately. HY 
 
 W K S T <J ( ) T T C U M F A N Y . 
 
 John S!rcff. 
 
 NEW YOI'.A ' . , 
 C 
 
 c>%W3 
 
 ^ 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 
 
 C. S. WESTCOTT & CO. , 
 
 the Clerk's Office of the District Com-t for the Southern District of New- 
 York. 
 
 ^ 
 
A^ 
 
 
 ill ii'imiU^ ifi?^0iBe, 
 
 'Tis well to scan before the 2ilay. 
 
 First on the list, A Royal Queen : 
 
 A LoED AND Lady next are seen. 
 
 Then comes A Hive of Liitle Bs, 
 
 And then An Oeatoe, to please; 
 
 And aftericards, A Donkey, ichite, 
 
 (The Orator to keep all right ;) 
 
 And then A Majoe eeom the Town : 
 
 A CouNTEY Majoe next is shown. 
 
 A Majoeess then claims attention — 
 
 (Staff-officer to Major of first mention. ) 
 
 Then next A Beace of Beams, icell say, 
 
 (By lady o\\Tied, her name Miss J — 
 
 Which stands for Juno, by the wa3% ) 
 
 The Voice of Beakesaian, very hold, 
 
 A Round Red Moon, now grown qxdte old : 
 
 Also Distuebees of the Night, 
 
 And Haunted Church, each, dreadful sight. 
 
 Xext comes The Dell, the Majo7''s friend — 
 
 (He from the town, you understand ;) 
 
 A lot of Witches, too, appear. 
 
And Bkimstone, making great uproar. 
 To celebrate The Gloeious Day 
 (From whicli all Christians flee away. ) 
 Of Faieies, Elves, and "Gixgee Pop," 
 And other Spieits quite a crop. 
 
 The Scene — at Forestdale is laid, 
 Up in Vermont, in mountain shade. 
 
 The Time — "the heated term" it was, 
 When happened these things, marvellous, 
 In country all around : — 
 
 The trees are brown, the grass is red , 
 
 The birds no longer fly, 
 For when they do their wings are scorched, 
 
 And down they fall and die ; 
 
 Which folks have sworn, 'till all was blue, 
 Is every word quite gospel true, 
 As surely true they sound. 
 
 A Peologue ought to liave been writ, 
 To say, — Aye, stranger! slop a bit; 
 At least it should have hinted : — 
 These idle rhymes, for public ear. 
 Are not now meant ; and now, to hear, 
 
 All privileges are stinted, — 
 Except to those whose ear and eye 
 Pteceived them first, all laughingly, 
 (But never, never critically) 
 And for whom now, mysteriously. 
 
 And privately, they're printed. 
 
A WEEK AT FORESTDALE. 
 
 In the fairest street of New York town, one hundred eighty - 
 
 two, 
 Lives a kindly man, a gentleman, an honest man and true ; 
 He's something turned of thirty, and he's handsome, gay, and 
 
 bold. 
 And his name (well, go ask it, and surely you'll be told.) 
 
 Xow this kindly man, this gentle-man, goes out of town some- 
 times, 
 
 And when he goes he thinks about some other people's lives ; 
 
 "See here," says he, "just come along, you'r looking might}' 
 pale, 
 
 The city don't agree with yovi, we'll go to Forestdale. " 
 
 Xow Forestdale is in Vermont, among the mountains green. 
 And search the earth from pole to pole its like can ne'er be 
 
 seen ; 
 The mountain breezes, fresh and fair, come roaring throuoJi 
 
 the trees, 
 The mountain streams, all musical, are (anything 3'ou 
 
 please.) 
 
The mountain pines, with perfumed breath, are sighing in the 
 
 wind, 
 And the hemlocks keep them company, through ages out of 
 
 mind ; 
 The mountain trout are in the streams, the deer are on the 
 
 hills. 
 The birds are singing all around, " God save you from all ills."' 
 
 'Twas thus of Forestdale I sang, 
 And of its noble lord ; 
 
 (For he has lordly acres, 
 As well as lordly word), 
 
 From this heat-oppressed place, 
 And singing thus I started 
 On a Hudson river race. 
 
 I mean in cars, as they are called. 
 
 That go upon a rail, 
 Beside the Hudson river 
 
 Where a commodore doth sail. 
 
 And, in safety from all danger. 
 On his jaunty little yacht, 
 
 Doth watch the trains all rushing 
 To the devil — or what not. 
 
And while they rush the price of " stocks" 
 
 Is going up and down, 
 And the commodore he chuckles 
 
 As he says to Briggs & Brown : — 
 
 " We'll make our ' pile' you see, my boys, 
 
 We'll have a little sport. 
 Knock up some cars, knock down the stocks, 
 
 And all of us sell ' short.' " 
 
 But ours was not the train for him. 
 
 He'd had his little fun ; 
 We passed beyond his eagle eye, 
 
 And so the race was won. 
 
 '• The moon was shining silver bright, 
 
 The stars with glory crowned the night," 
 
 When, rattling on upon the train. 
 
 The brakesman shrieked with might and main — 
 
 And with a voice that seemed to be 
 
 A warning from eternity, 
 
 Or bray of donkey in a fright. 
 
 The screech of owlet in the night. 
 
 The screaming of ring-tailed raccoon. 
 
 The doleful notes of cracked bassoon — 
 
 '• Brandon, Brandon, be lively there ; 
 
 Aboard!" — the train moved off, and there we were. 
 
8 
 
 " The moon was sliining silver bright, 
 The stars with glory crowned the night," 
 AVhen, rolling on upon the sand, 
 '^lid dust and shadowy trees so grand, 
 Behind a span of splendid steeds, 
 Such as Green Mountain only breeds, 
 Blodgett cried out, " You see that light V 
 I saw it, yes, all sparkling bright. 
 And peeping out among the trees. 
 Suggested hcr/ne and quiet ease. 
 
 A moment more and we are there ; 
 A moment more, two ladies fair, 
 
 With flickering tapers, raised on high. 
 With smiling face and beaming eye. 
 Came out beneath the sheltering green, 
 (A fairy sight as e'er was seen). 
 To give us greetings to their home, 
 (Dear, lovely home), "Welcome, welcome."' 
 
 One was the mistress of this forest home ; 
 
 And sure no dame of song, of feudal race 
 Ancient and lordly, generations come. 
 
 In Hall barronial bred, did e'er grace. 
 
 And, over entertainment gay, leave trace 
 Of such sweet gentleness, such winning way. 
 
 Such kindly smile, which, nestling on the face, 
 As moonlight o'er the shadowy glade doth play. 
 Sheds glow of happiness where'er her graceful step doth stay 
 
Another day brought other folks, 
 
 Uncles, cousins, and all that ; 
 They came all merry and full of jokes. 
 Giving as good as they got. 
 
 But the B ams, good Lord ! 
 
 I pledge you my word 
 
 Such people never were seen ; 
 They came in the night 
 And gave us a fright : 
 
 Disturbed our sweet slumbers had been 
 Xot an hour before, 
 By the awfulest roar. 
 
 That was ever set going. Good zounds 1 
 They took cannon and bells, 
 Which at midnight sent yells 
 
 Discordant beyond any bounds, 
 To keep sleep fi'om our eyes 
 'Till the B ams arise. 
 
 And creep stealthily into the grounds. 
 But no, no, Mrs. B., 
 Oh no, loveliest B., 
 Oh no, no, I foresee 
 
 I make a most terrible row, 
 Mrs. B. came in time, 
 (That's good for my rhyme), 
 
 Mr. B. came lingering — how ? 
 
 Then came the Fourth, that glorious time 
 
 For the grave and gay, 
 When people burn powder and talk sublime,- 
 
 About the great day. 
 
10 
 
 eB3lt0 tlU llftft. 
 
 The Day it was hot, 
 The question was what 
 
 Should we ever do for the day ? 
 Says Nell on the spot, 
 '•' No matter for hot 
 
 On the ' Fourth,'' why sure, we will play. 
 
 The Day, 'twas so hot, 
 There wasn't a spot 
 
 At all fit, I said, for the play ; 
 But Miss Josie said, 
 " Now, dull stupid head, 
 
 Why, it's just the time for croquet." 
 
 Now this little speech 
 (My ear quick to reach) 
 
 Delighted me much, you must know ; 
 For the lady herself 
 Is sprightly as elf. 
 
 And, in carriage, another Juno. 
 
 So after Josie I went, 
 On pleasure full bent ; 
 
 I cold (I an iceberg, you know), 
 Never caring a pin, 
 If I could but win 
 
 A brace of bright beams from said Joe. 
 
11 
 
 But, couldn't do ihat^ 
 And that was as pat 
 
 As the fact that this was the day 
 For patriots all, 
 Big, little, and small. 
 
 To glorify once and alway. 
 
 Then dishearten'd quite, 
 A pipe, in despite, 
 
 I took, and went on on my wa}^ ; 
 And, sauntering around. 
 In a little while found. 
 
 Consolation, and thus did I say : — 
 
 " Now this is the place 
 To come to for grace. 
 
 In the patriot line, and so forth ;" 
 But as I began. 
 Both William and Dan 
 
 (Being patriots, both, of great worth) 
 
 Came in for a draft. 
 
 Which was instantly quaffed 
 
 " To the folks, big, little, and small, 
 Who, at sweet Forestdale, 
 Live hearty and hale, 
 
 As God meant them to live — growing tall." 
 
 Then, looking around, 
 I saw Josie bound 
 
 Up and down in a tropical net ; 
 
12 
 
 So over I went, 
 
 Past the hospital tent, 
 
 To see if the beams were there yet. 
 
 But no ! — all was sun, 
 As hot as a bun, — 
 
 That is, as hot as — ah well ! 
 We'll not mention the name, 
 For it rhymes with the same 
 
 As the place where old Lucifer fell. 
 
 But what of the day ? 
 After all, did we play ? 
 
 Ay, bless you, what rollicking time ! 
 Will, got a big gun 
 And some crackers ; the sun 
 
 Never once interrupting the rhyme 
 They did make and did keep. 
 Giving us all a fair peep 
 
 At Inferno and blazes you'd say; 
 For Carroll had punk, 
 And Pussie had spunk ; 
 
 And then Mrs. (the aunt by the way). 
 
 Went roaming around 
 Like a Queen, lately found. 
 
 And "ruling the roast" all the day. 
 
 While Mrs. H ing. 
 
 The ever charming, 
 
 Sometimes grave, though oftener gay. 
 All the men, even Dan, 
 E'en myself, harmless man, 
 
 Were nowhere (except in her way). 
 
13 
 
 Then, the sun going down, 
 We turned to the crown 
 
 Of a hill that was lying hard by, 
 And there on the ground, 
 From the country around. 
 
 Stood the patriots, grouped on the sly. 
 
 Then a Major came up 
 From Brandon, to sup, 
 
 And have a good time on the day ; 
 And when it grew dark, 
 As spry as a lark 
 
 He went to the hill o'er the way. 
 
 And he set it ablaze, 
 To the patriots' amaze, 
 
 And wreathed it in fiery smoke 
 From all sorts of things. 
 Such as rockets and rings, 
 
 That the Major with match soon awoke 
 
 And then such a fiz, 
 And banging and whiz 
 
 As the Major kept up, to be sure ; 
 Blue lights and red. 
 As big as your head, 
 
 And whirligig-wheels by the score. 
 
 An Orator came, 
 (A speech very lame 
 
 He managed to make, by the way) 
 Who said of the Fourth, 
 
14 
 
 " God gave it a birtli 
 
 That is worthy the palmiest day 
 Which ever was known 
 Since the Babel key-stone, 
 
 Did something (the Lord only can say), 
 
 Big, little, and small, 
 
 And send us all roaming around, 
 As bewildered as seals. 
 And happy as eels, 
 
 Or squirrels that go in the ground." 
 
 We drank to the Fourth, — 
 " If told at its worth. 
 
 Would live the longest of all 
 Days little or big." 
 (Says the Orator trig. 
 Looking sweet as a fig), 
 " Let's put on a wig 
 
 And be ' big-wigs' in Forestdale hall. 
 
 " For nothing's so grand 
 
 As think well of the hand 
 
 You have in your country's affairs ; 
 
 The country is large, 
 
 Each man is a barge- 
 Load of ' moral ideas' — unawares." 
 
15 
 
 The Fourth it was done, 
 The week was begun, 
 
 And it ran along 'till it closed ; 
 And never a day 
 Passed wholly away 
 
 Without being newlj disposed. 
 
 One evening we sat 
 Round the tables to chat, 
 
 When occurred a most singular sight — 
 The Major rushed in, 
 Not caring a pin, 
 
 But clearly was in a great fright. 
 
 Says the Major, " Look here, 
 It seems very queer 
 
 The moon should behave in this way ; 
 By Jove it's ablaze, 
 Or I'm in a haze, 
 
 And don't know what's what, as they say." 
 
 The Major looked pale, 
 (He'd been drinking no ale. 
 
 That's true, to make him look red) 
 But he ran in and out, 
 And all round about 
 
 Like a bear with a very sore head. 
 
16 
 
 Now the Major's a man, 
 (His t'other name's Dan), 
 
 That never playeth a trick ; 
 So we all stood aghast 
 'Till a thundering blast 
 
 Came from Blodgett, " Come quick." 
 
 Now Blodgett's Dan's son, 
 (So the story doth run), 
 
 And you'd believe it, too, if you saw 
 The two there that night 
 In a most sorry plight. 
 
 Like plaintiffs just quit of the law. 
 
 But no matter for that, 
 If we're to get at 
 
 The tale of The Round Red Moon, 
 Which the Major declared, 
 Flashed, flickered, and flared 
 
 Like a beacon fire lit up in June. 
 
 So off we all ran 
 (This Forestdale clan), 
 
 Thinking the very old Harry's to pay. 
 When two — each a man — 
 (That's William and Dan) 
 
 Behave in so fearful a way. 
 
 And reaching the green, 
 (That is what had been), 
 
 What a sight did we see, to be sure. 
 
The moon was as red 
 As a turkey cock's head. 
 
 Or the lips of a big blackamoor. 
 
 The grass was red too. 
 The hill, that was blue 
 The other week through, 
 "Was gleaming, also, 
 
 Like some great volcano in ire : 
 The bark on the trees 
 Was all in a "blaze : 
 The great fleeting haze 
 Struck us dumb with amaze. 
 
 For it seemed like a curtain of fire- 
 All tumbling down 
 To light on the crown 
 
 Of our hatlesc and bonnetless head- 
 To bum us all up 
 As clean as a top 
 
 And leave not a grease spot besides 
 
 So all in a fright 
 We set off in despite 
 
 Of our great leader and ran. 
 And never on earth 
 Did people of worth 
 
 E'er follow a leader like Dan. 
 
 Our speed was so great. 
 Before we couM halt 
 
 A church opened out of the wood, 
 3 
 
18 
 
 And behind it the ground, 
 With red tombstones around, 
 
 Erought us up all standing ; we stood 
 
 Shrieking loud, very loud, 
 For never, I'm vowed. 
 
 Did such sight before ever hail 
 From heaven or earth, 
 Or ever have birth, 
 
 Except at this same Forestdale. 
 
 But why do I essay such lofty flight ? 
 
 My muse stands speechless in so great a sight : 
 
 Such scene would tax the genius of Burns, 
 
 And to that ghostly counsellor it turns. 
 
 Instinctively it turns, as moon to sun, 
 
 To borrow light which never could be won, 
 
 Nor honestly acquired by honest ways : 
 
 Though Pistol says, " Base is the slave who pays. 
 
 Near by, a stream poured down its floods, 
 Silence profound reigned in the woods ; 
 The red tires gleamed from pole to pole, 
 Near and more near they seem to roll, — 
 When glimmering through the forest trees, 
 The little church seem'd all ablaze ; 
 Through every crack the beams were glancing. 
 And loud resounded mirth and dancing. 
 
 "Warlocks and witches there were plenty. 
 With hoods of owls and dresses scanty ; 
 With horns as long as steepled church. 
 
19 
 
 rted libe tlie iHidk ; 
 _ me entirined, 
 
 \\ li^z d:a3iLg"t-is tir'jo eaii5i tp.s]*:^ he sc-an I! 
 
 WiHi '"'ii^er pap^ we'd &oe e'oi Xkl^ 
 So off ve mdbed to se^ l&e Queen, 
 Jknd oswe lier paidon far tine am 
 Of iian^ inee her fvedkiiB Dame, 
 To tnni a jest Itowewer tune. 
 
 AH in m tzice I^Be l^hts went out, 
 
 TIms dniRiigrew daik, tlie witdies" slMRit 
 
 Xo longer isngthFoa^ Ibnest^ade, 
 
 And an w^ aknee in the shade. 
 
 When wailock czi^ ceased "kieafli the roci^ 
 
 And Slick hK heels had coaled enofii^ 
 
20 
 
 The rattling stream once more rang clear 
 
 Its pleasant sound to human ear ; 
 
 And now there's nothing more to fear. 
 
 The Round Red Moon again has paled, 
 
 The flaming curtain off has sailed, 
 
 No longer red the grass in hue, 
 
 The mountain top again is blue, 
 
 And to the sky it seems to say, 
 
 Like love-sick maiden in the play, 
 
 " Come now, I'll meet thee half the way.'' 
 
 So now we laughed and turned away, 
 All wondering what there was to pay. 
 And strided up to where we came, 
 To seek our seats at forest home, 
 Which Major Dan had made us quit 
 To make such sorry night of it. 
 
 The " ginger pop" we did not need, 
 So Major Dan took up the lead ; 
 And off we started, one and all, 
 Merry as maskers from a ball 5 
 Content to give the Queen her way. 
 And never have a word to say 
 About the jest 'till other day- 
 Well knowing that her queenly heart 
 Is but a very tender part 
 Of her great self, so good, so fair. 
 So everything that one could e'er 
 Dream that his precious Queen should be. 
 Upon the land or on the sea. 
 
21 
 
 Ah ! queen of hearts, — but here I stop. 
 Long, long may wave thy " ginger pop/' 
 
 Now thinking thus about the Queen, 
 As I have said, and you have seen. 
 And thinking too that in the p]ay 
 They have a song, which is to say. 
 That he who fights and runs away, 
 May live to fight another day, 
 We lost no further time I vow. 
 And off we started, easy now. 
 
 But some one says, with wisdom too. 
 That men and mice may ofttimes do 
 AYhat they desire for pleasure's sake ; 
 But that, alas ! 'tis great mistake 
 To think Dame Fortune does not take 
 Revenge sometimes, and mischief make ; 
 For " pleasures are like poppies spread, 
 You seize the flower, its bloom is shed ; 
 Or like the snowflake in the river. 
 One moment white, then melt forever ; 
 Or like the Borealis race 
 That flits e'er you can point the place." 
 
 So now it was — the Deil had seen 
 The Major in the night's red sheen ; 
 And silvering o'er The Bound Bed Moon, 
 He douced the glim and stopped the tune 
 And from the church he flew around, 
 His rattling bones, most awful sound, 
 
22 
 
 Like harsh rough stones, put up on slide, 
 
 And, while descending, shaken well. 
 
 For managers' sensation sell, 
 
 AVhen they would play at noises loud, 
 
 Upon the stage to please a crowd, 
 
 And imitate the thunder's roar. 
 
 While fearful lightnings round them pour. 
 
 The Major caught a glimpse of Nick, 
 His bunch of bones, all cool and slick, 
 And Laving learned the fellow's slight, 
 Tipped him a wink and took to flight. 
 
 The Major knew full well his pace, 
 The Deil was distanced in the race. 
 
 The Deil paused at the wicker gate, 
 
 And thus the Major did berate : — 
 
 " Dan ! Dan ! thou 'It get thy fairing, 
 
 Thou 'It ne'er get cool while I am spering ; 
 
 The Round Red Moon will last the weak ; 
 
 Across the hills thou 'It solace seek. 
 
 And scorched and sweltered thou shalt be, 
 
 And, in that drive's eternity. 
 
 Thou 'It wish many a time, like me, 
 
 To strip the flesh from off" thy bones, 
 
 And cool thyself upon the stones." 
 
 The Deil skipped to the public road, 
 And off" he bounded to the wood ; 
 The Major shook his fist and swore, 
 
23 
 
 While thus the Majoress did outpour : — 
 •• Dan ! Dan ! what do you mean, 
 Bringing disgrace upon your name, 
 With bony friend li^e that to chiim ? 
 Go hide yourself, for very shame." 
 
 Xow say we of the Majoress, — 
 
 More truly beautiful she is 
 
 Than any fabled-story Princess. 
 
 You'd smile to see a lock of gray, 
 
 On her fair head, peep out to say, 
 
 •• Old, think you ? That will never be 1" 
 
 But years enough she had to know 
 
 The Major's ways, — he her's, I vow. 
 
 Off shot the Major, smart as elf, 
 
 And 'twixt the sheets did hide himself. 
 
 The week sped on, 
 
 The hours went and came : 
 The week sped on, 
 
 The week sped on, 
 
 We drove through shady nooks ; 
 The week sped on, 
 
 We tished the mountain brooks :- 
 
24 
 
 That is, the country Major, took a lot of us to see 
 How they take the trout upon the hook in that wild country ; 
 And now, while I am thinking, let me say it, once for all. 
 That a nobler, braver soldier never faced the cannon ball ; 
 And a finer hearted fellow, never friend in need hath stood. 
 And never cooked such hundred trout 'neath thunderbolt and 
 flood. 
 
 But the Mg fish wouldn't nibble, and they'd no mind to bite, 
 
 'Till the city Major joined us, looking round to left and right; 
 
 " Come boys," says he, " come help me, come help me if you 
 please, — 
 
 I want some mice, quite juvenile, and some white-faced bum- 
 blebees ; 
 
 With these we'll catch, I wager you, the biggest trout this 
 year;"— 
 
 Says the country Major, " Daniel, are we tom-cats, Major 
 dear?" 
 
 But, nothing daunted by this sneer, he roamed about the 
 
 brooks. 
 And he found the bait he wanted, and in he cast his hooks ; 
 And ! such sight, among big fish, was never seen before, 
 They came from every quarter, by the dozen and the score ; 
 
 Some darted at the little mice, some at the bumblebee, 
 And on, and on, the Major fished, as long as he could see ; 
 And when he stopped the fish were strewn for miles and miles 
 
 around ; 
 We gathered them in wagon loads, — full fifty thousand 
 
 pound. 
 
25 
 
 The week sped on, 
 
 We fished the lake ; 
 The week sped on, 
 
 A fete champetre. 
 
 The week sped on, 
 
 To horse ! — a run ; 
 The week sped on, 
 
 The " buck-board" — done. 
 
 Yes, done ! 0, Forestdale 
 
 The end is near, the end is near ; 
 Feign would I stay and sing a tale 
 
 That e'en the little birds would hear:— 
 A tale, a song of earthly bliss, 
 A song, divine, of happiness. 
 
 I stand beneath thy noble shades. 
 The sun is sinking in the west ; 
 Softly the light plays o'er the glades. 
 Brightly it gleams on mountain crest : — 
 A crown of glory resting there, 
 A crown of splendor past compare. 
 
 And far away in blue doth lie 
 
 Great waves, high rolling there, as when 
 You see them 'gainst the evening sky. 
 Heaved up by storm upon the main : — 
 The Adirondacks, mighty child 
 Of Earth's convulsions, fierce and wild. 
 4 
 
26 
 
 While here embower'd, and girdled round 
 
 By forests vast, that moan aloud 
 When tempest roars, is spot of ground. 
 
 Fresh as a sunbeam through the cloud ; 
 And on it stands, through years long gone, 
 
 The granite home that's called " the Hall," 
 Deep buried in the trees, alone. 
 
 And shadowed by the mountain wall : — 
 
 A " dove cot" some one said in play, 
 An eyre we might rather say. 
 
 Yet not alone, for there I see 
 Another nest, — aye, hive of bee ; 
 For from it comes, with gladsome grace, 
 Of Bs a swarm, of queens a brace. 
 Here tripping light comes Nina gay. 
 Who's speaking eyes have much to say 
 If tongue is quiet all the day : 
 And Katie, fresh as any breeze, 
 And Twins, as like as any peas. 
 And all as happy as you please, — 
 The prettiest of all pretty Bs. 
 Now here they come to meet Miss Nell, 
 Another B, I see full well ; 
 Nor dove, nor eaglet, I declare, — 
 A5^e, surely, maiden, fresh and fair, 
 Is this Nell B. with golden hair ; 
 And golden heart she has beside. 
 And graceful figure for a ride 
 On Lady Gay, the " mountain bride ;'' 
 And Will., her brother, on his bay. 
 Makes valiant escort, truth to say. 
 
27 
 
 For well doth ride this Willie B ; 
 A fearless fellow, too, and bold 
 On horse he is, when all is told. 
 But Carroll likes the donkey white, 
 Which beast is trained, in all despite. 
 To stop when least expected quite. 
 Now mounted on this ancient steed, 
 Bold Carroll rides and rides indeed, 
 'Till donkey bobs his grizzly head, 
 And off goes hero in the mud ; 
 And Pussie laughs and follows up, 
 As full of tricks as juggler's cup. 
 And rides, and rides, and rides away, 
 More fearless than you'd ever see 
 Another girl of eight to be ; 
 And now of Pussie, what is more, 
 Her like was never seen before, 
 And never will again, I'm sure. 
 And thus we'll end this B. B. song. 
 Thus end this Canto, dreadful longr. 
 
 i5ait0 tine Siglrilu 
 
 The word must be spoken, the parting must come. 
 
 The horses are harnessed, the carriages wait ; 
 One and all we must leave this Forestdale home, 
 And go our own ways — we must n't be late — 
 For the train will not linger, 
 The moment not slumber, 
 The word must be spoken — Farewell. 
 
28 
 
 Farewell to our host, farewell to our hostess, 
 Farewell to you all companions most dear ; 
 To these Forestdale shades and Forestdale pleasures, 
 Farewell to you all ! — (forever I fear) ; 
 Oh ! no, not forever, 
 Xo not thus to,- sever 
 Forever, forever, but still 'tis — Farewell. 
 
 We've parted full oft from the loved and the loving, 
 
 The word I have uttered has lingered full oft 
 On lips that would crave as a blessing, a blessing, 
 Xevermore to have said it, be it never so soft — 
 The word that I've uttered. 
 Though scarcely have muttered, 
 That word of such meaning — Farewell. 
 
 Ah ! once it was easier, much easier than now, 
 
 But noiD never said without pain ; 
 It meaneth a blessing, but we know full well how 
 Our hopes are not meeted, I ween. 
 And so we would linger, 
 The moment pray slumber, 
 And not force us to say it — Farewell. 
 
 But the horses are harnessed, we've warning to go ; 
 
 So here now, your hands, one and all ! 
 The children, God bless them ! their tutor also, 
 TThen we've turned from sweet Forestdale hall. 
 The word it is spoken ! 
 The link it is broken ! 
 Alas ! for a token, — 
 Yes ! yes ! here I have it ! — Fare-well ! 
 
29 
 
 For that word, rightly spoken, 
 Is itself a bright token — 
 Heart to heart a bright token. 
 Nevermore to be broken — Fare- well ! 
 
 Once more upon the train we go. 
 Our backs to Forestdale, also 
 
 Our faces to New York ; 
 The dust is flying everywhere, 
 The sun is in a tropic stare, 
 
 And this is sorry work. 
 
 At Rutland town we part again, 
 
 " Aboard, aboard," with might and main, 
 
 Shrieks out the brakesman bold ; 
 And on we rush upon our way, 
 Too sad for any sort of day, 
 
 (Unless 'twas very cold.) 
 
 For we are in the melting mood. 
 
 As on we rush through field and wood, 
 
 The cinders flying round ; 
 The dust and smoke and ashes hot, 
 A sunstroke bred in every spot 
 
 Of the heat o'erburdened ground. 
 
 But on we rush through thin and thick, 
 Past Adirondacks (mighty sick 
 By this time growing now) ; 
 
30 
 
 And on we go beyond Champlain, 
 On whose bright waters, years, amainj 
 MacDonough, in a row, 
 
 Did spill the British in the lake, 
 And from them he did boldly take 
 
 A schooner and a scow ; 
 And something more I think it was, 
 But little cared we, not a cuss, ' 
 
 For history, just now. 
 
 Two hours past noon, exhausted quite. 
 We sought and found in all despite 
 
 Of heat and dust and sun, 
 What Mrs. B. did see full well 
 Would save the life and save the soul 
 
 Of travellers more than one. 
 
 Cold tea in jugs of jolly weight, 
 Cold bourbon not forgotten quite. 
 
 Cold turkey. Lord, how fine ! 
 And pickles, ham, and crackers rare. 
 And cheese from Cheshire, I declare, 
 
 And cake and claret wine. 
 
 And with this consolation now, 
 We got resigned, not caring how 
 
 The dust and sun behaved ; 
 And down we rushed through burning Troy, 
 And down the Hudson 'till, ahoy ! 
 
 The smells came on the wind. 
 
31 
 
 And then we knevr that we were borne, 
 A happy week had come and gone, 
 
 And in the town by rail, 
 AVe'd come to sigh and say, alas ! 
 Life's come, I swear, to a pretty pass, 
 
 Without a Forestdale. 
 
Hi. 
 
 II