SWIMMIN' "The Pegassus of Woodstock stands forever waiting at the market place." "What, are you a poet?" " ' Ardly that, young sir, 'ardly that ! " said he, rubbing his chin. "No, 'ardly a poet, p'r'aps, but thereabouts. My verses rhyme and go wi' a swing, which is summat arter all, ain't it?" Perigrine's Progress, by Jeffery Farnol "Down river from the 'lower bridge'— say fifty rods or less Was the swimmin' place we called 'Dace Hole' same as now, I guess." the COIN' SWIMMIN' DAY BEFORE YESTERDAY KARL A. PEMBER ^ WOODSTOCK VERMONT 1892-1922 C^.wV V WHY IT'S DONE I mean, why these humble verses of the most modest of our modern poets appear again after they have once exposed themselves in the pages of the Vermont Standard. The reason is that I liked the stuff ; perhaps chiefly because I so much enjoyed the memories they called up of my own goin' swimmin' in days far back of '92, and called for their reappearance. There was another reason. I wished for a chance to prove to my native friends that I can do this sort of thing far better than the Author of These Verses. The proof lies in these two stanzas; which I wrote myself : / also can remember quite as well as Karl A. Pember The glories of the swimmin' holes of days of long ago. And I ask your kind attention while in verse I briefly mention Things older and far better than that youth K. P. can know. For example, prophylactics, certain sure and easy tactics To prevent that awful seizure by the cramp in water cold ; And the funny ceremonies, enforced by all their cronies. On boys who got their clothes off last— but some things can't he told! Is it not good stuff? I will dare to let the patient reader answer. Having exalted my horn I hasten to be modest, according to my nature, and to say that I wrote these stirring lines right after K. P's first sec- tion appeared ; that I intended to outdo K. P. and was sure I could; that it was my purpose to cover the ground thoroughly, omitting nothing ; that inspiration failed me straightway; that while I was spending hours counting out new and awful lines and rhymes on my fingers ( the only way I knew to get the meter right ) K. P. appeared again in the Stand- ard; and then I saw at once that while mine was the loftier flight, his was the more sustained and that his genius was putting fire to my rub- bish heap of detail. In conclusion : the Pegasus of Woodstock stands forever waiting at the market place; and all who will may mount and try to fly. Two natural born cloud piercers have shown how it is done. J. C. D. Newark N. J. October 1922 [5] COIN' SWIMMIN' "Backward, turn backward, O Time in your flight! Make me a boy again. Just for tonight." I In story books and magazines we very often see About the good old swimmin' hole there always used to be; Though most of us have visions — a dim and hazy crop From the second-hand department of Memory's dusty shop — And feel a thrill of pleasure while calling it to mind, Still, wouldn't that "ole swimmin' hole" be rather hard to find? Before we all forget it and lose the chance to see, I want to tell you young folks just where it used to be And how we used to get there and what we used to do When the fellers went in swimmin' back in eighteen ninety-two. There was more than one "ole swimmin' hole," like graded schools you know. Where little chaps and middle-sized and bigger boys could go: Our play was not yet organized — we hadn't any rights, And we didn't use the "Mill Pond" 'cause "you had to put on tights"; [7] "The Branch" was quite available and so was old "Dace Hole," And "The Bend" a place to thrill with joy most any swimmer's soul. The girls could go in wadin' by themselves or with their Mas But swimmin' then was done by just us boys — with- out our Pas, And we didn't have to ask our folks to buy us bath- in' togs. We just went in as naturally and bare as any frogs. II "The Branch" was where the little fellers mostly used to go (And that was part of what we call the Kedron now, you know) Without a house to bother us on either side the brook From Cross Street Bridge to Townsend's Farm, and people couldn't look Nor interefere with all the fun we had in that small pool That was thickly populated most the time we weren't in school. A narrow well-trod pathlet turned and twisted 'long the crest Of the bank just eastward of the stream to where we all undressed, And led us to a clear cold pool 'bout twenty-two feet wide And thirty long, with sandy bottom sloping from the side; [8] The depth was quite conveniently "just up to here on me" And the whole presided over by a leaning willow tree. Ill The Cross Street Bridge was wooden then and led to Tink Day's shop, And all was peaceful out beyond — hay was the only crop — And Townsend's Farm has now become the Country Club to you And Golf and Maple Streets and all have grown since ninety-two. To find the spot exactly where this small pool used to be Take forty paces southward from the present fourth hole tee, And though it won't look occupied just as it used to there With the ground around the edges all matted down and bare, Still you'll have seen an humble spot once known to boyish fame Quite worthy of this monument to memory — ^just the same. Down river from the "lower bridge" — say fifty rods or less Was the swimmin' place we called "Dace Hole" — the same as now, I guess, Behind the Tann'ry buildings where the South Branch empties in Was a first rate pool 'bout shoulder deep, but ston- ier than sin, [9] And though perhaps you'll know the place beyond the slightest doubt, It's back of Mass's greenhouse and the saw mill (just sold out) : I took my first few swimmin' strokes right there in that same pool, And a prouder kid you never saw inside or out of school. It wasn't the most sanitary place to swim 'twould seem For the outlet from the Tann'ry reached the river just upstream. And chance encounters now and then with horns and bits of hide Enlivened the engagements and enhanced the gentle tide: This place was very popular with all us kids because 'Twas a grade above "The Branch" hole and the handiest place there was, And 'twas plenty far away enough from folks a- passing by To save offence to e'en the passing tribute of an eye ; For mind you, as I said before, we weren't a lot of prudes, And fellers that wore "swimmin' trunks" were classified as dudes. IV Now let me just assure you that the very best of all By way of good old swimmin' holes that I can now recall Was "The Bend" — Ah, what a place that was to please the genus "boy" And fill his young aquatic soul with seven kinds of joy: [101 "The Bend", compared to all the other swimmin' holes around About the same as College does to Prep Schools, I have found; And after graduation from "The Branch" and "Old Dace Hole" The ultimate achievement of "The Bend" might thrill your soul. Where was "The Bend" you'd like to know? — Let's see if I can tell, It seems as if I might because I used to know it well : You went down to the depot and followed 'long the track And scrambled down th' embankment — on your feet or on your back — Then followed on by Washburn's Brook clear to the river bank Along a narrow little path through June grass thick and rank. Then down along the riverside beyond the upper end Of a row of ancient willows till at last you reach- ed — "The Bend"; You ducked between two willow stumps and there along the shore Were most commodious quarters for a dozen boys or more. V The ground all 'round about the place was very smoothly trod. The work of many pairs of feet a-pattering on the sod; [11] The willows made a perfect screen from grown-ups, I suppose, And also furnished hanging space for all the fellers' clothes ; The bank was high, the water deep and clear and fine and warm. And the plunge therein was dandy — if it wasn't in good form ; The pool was big and plenty deep for all the tricks we knew From soundin', treadin' water, and all the program through To swimmin' like a frog and under water, on your back. And divin' in so many ways I really can't keep track. But "The Bend" can never more be used for divers swimmin' joys By the present day contingent of the brotherhood of boys, For the sewer of the village now pollutes this fabled stream And the dump is just above it — so there's only mem'ries dream To preserve the old time glory of the things we used to do, And note the old traditions of the boys of ninety- two. VI I wonder if they're doing now the very same old stunts We used to do in ninety-two, when we were little runts, — [12] Most likely not, — ^they're probably much more efficient now Than in the days I speak of when we were learning how: The tall grass tied across the path to trip the hurrying tots, The arms and legs of shirts and drawers tied up in double knots. And after you'd persuaded some new kid to duck his head And try to hear some crazy thing upon the river bed To whack two stones together underneath the sur- face blue — He'd sure believe he'd heard it and his head was busted too ; And divin' in on top a kid you'd just shoved off the bank. The rising moon — the light-house — and many an- other prank, All ending up a-hurrying to get your cap on first And yelling "King" and all the rest down to the very worst : — Without a doubt the kids now'days have quite an- other lot; The trouble is there's nobody to tell us what is what. And doubtless too its just as hard to get your hair all dry Before you see your mother when you've "been in" on the sly. VII Say — any of you fellers know the old time swimmin' sign? A signal of the brotherhood the grown-ups couldn't "jine"; [13] Your first two fingers spread apart and held up in the air Meant "the gang is goin' swimmin' — you're invited to be there." 'Twas a summons unmistakable that any boy would know And join the aggregation if his folks would let him go. Gee whiz! but don't I wish that there was some- thing I could do To roll the years way back again to eighteen nine- ty-two, And through the eyes of boyhood as the youthful vision clears To get a glimpse of fellows that I haven't seen for years, And with the swimmin' signal a joyous message send To all the boys I used to know to meet me at "The Bend". [14] And furthermore . . . VIII Of course we all have heard about the game of "Three-ole- cat", Its elements consisting of us boys, a ball and bat. Well — we boys played it hereabouts in eighteen-ninety-two, But we called it by a better name, and, what is surely true, A shorter, quicker, cleaner one — we always called it "Scrub", Just why I cannot tell you — tho' I wish you'd tell me, bub. But never mind, "What's in a name", "The Play's the Thing", you know. And the modus operandi is the same where'er you go. Sometimes when five or six of us were "hangin' 'round", that's all. From some mysterious sources would appear a bat and ball; "Scrub One! !" would yell the first to think, and then, "Scrub Two! !"— "Three! !"— "Four! !", And on — a number to a boy until there were no more; Then, after hot adjustments of who'd yelled each number first By means of fists and arguments, for better or for worst, "Scrub One" would be first batter — ^tho' sometimes there'd be two — Then catcher, pitcher, basemen, in the order that they drew. With no limit to the fielders but the number of the boys That happened to be present to enjoy the fun and noise. The game progressed — you bet it did! — progression was its yield; When a kid got "out" he had to take the last place in the field And everybody moved up one — each had his little chance To pitch and catch and everything and 'round the bases dance. And that's the very reason why I liked the game of "Scrub", For as a base ball player I ranked as just a "dub", [15] And I heard the cry, "Let's choose up sides!" with very keen regret, Which happened when the crowd increased beyond the limit set; For well I knew the fellers that could play the game first rate Would get the good positions, while me they'd relegate To the harmless occupation of a passive, poor "right field", And a "Hey! let Smithy bat for you!", — Alas! my fate was sealed. We didn't have a play-ground the same as you boys do, 'Cept just around the school-house, back in eighteen ninety- two, The folks were pretty good to us and let us use the street, Bi.it when we got too thick or broke a window, we'd retreat To a place behind the Christian Church or back of Jones's Block, Or Hazen's lot, or Tribou Park or — Say! Now here's a shock! — When driven to extremities — the whole world out of tune — I've seen some ripping ball games on a Sunday afternoon In the small and peaceful valley just behind our old Mount Beg; But I'd hate to have you tell 'em that I told you. Don't I beg ! IX The carnivals and winter sports of nineteen twenty-two Are a wonderful improvement o'er what daddy used to do. Now skiis are quite magnificent — you buy 'em at the store All varnished up and painted in a hundred styles or more ; But in the early nineties if you yearned to slide on skiis You procured two worthless barrel staves and nailed two straps on these, And instead of what's referred to as a "ski-bob", so they say, We made a dandy "jumper" in a very simple way, [16] By nailing to a barrel-stave a stick of stove-wood small And then across the top of that a board — and tbat was all. These didn't show much speed or class, nor boasted trophies won, But provided entertainment and heaps and heaps of fun. When the snow was soft before the paths were beaten for our sleds And the traverses and double-runners kept us from our beds Those moonlight nights on Hartland Hill (where you could slide a mile), On Jaquith's and on Watkins' and on College for a while. And now and then on Billings', and the best of all the slides — Old Church Hill with its bumpers and the legendary rides Of fellers that had slid clear down to High Street — honest fact, When the hill was glare, the ruts just right, and the giant Town-sleds packed. We skated joyfully about on places now denied; The "Oil Pond" back of Sayward's dam so greatly raised the tide That we could skate way up the Branch, and many a little rink Dotted the meadows on each side where now you'd scarcely think Such things could possibly have been in eighteen ninety-two; But T assure you just the same that they are very true. Late in the Fall the Mill Pond furnished skating very nice, (I've been 'most up to Johnson's dam on good old thin black ice), Pogue HoJe and Perry's Eddies helped our jolly skating days And cheerful nights attended by a bon-fire's ruddy blaze. And that reminds me of the times we had to stay inside All gathered 'round the roaring stoves during the eventide. There weren't so many furnaces around here then as now And more of us burned wood than coal you'll certainly allow. Why — four-foot wood was five a cord delivered in your yard And you bucked it up yourself, by gum, and thought it mighty hard. [17] But anyway, what fun we had a-swapping postage stamps To put in our collections, beside the old oil lamps. And selling 'em from " 'proval sheets" and hunting through old chests, They do it now without a doubt — it's fun that stands the tests. Comparing Tewk's collection with Hal's, or maybe mine; And this applies to birds' eggs and tobacco tags so fine That we all collected ; some of us e'en cigarette cards chose Obtained from Sweet Cap smokers — sure, you just ask Dad, he knows. There were coin collections, wood collections, almost every- thing Collectable — obtainable — a-trundling home we'd bring, 'Till, I suppose, the patience of our parents was worn out By the various collections that we couldn't go without. Of course we'd go to parties where we'd have a lot of fun But generally speaking we were glad when they were done, While Dancing Schools and Parties that were given by the girls We wished that we could relegate to boys that still wore curls. But, speaking of society and such negotiables Say! didn't we have fun though at the "Congo" Sociables! 'Most all the games we used to play are 'bout the same as now. The underlying principles aren't different anyhow ; The game of "Henuary" has its counterpart today Though the details may be handled in a slightly altered way, "Hi-Spy" and "Hide and Coop" and "Hide and Seek" are all the same When played today or yesterday by whatsoever name ; Considerable excitement would attend "Duck-on-a-Rock'* And "Marbles"— "big" and Little Ring", "Plain", "Pug" -and "Chase" and "Clock"; [18] There was 'Tag" of all descriptions, "Plain", "Wood" and "Cross" and "Squat" And "Hare and Hounds" and "Prisoner's Base" we used to play