P s 35 1912 J t..-!?^-- I V / Hrcher Class T^S Book qS B^ Copight}I°_ (m COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER • J. D. ARCHER Copyright, 1912 J. D. Archer, Chicago ' Contents i *^ -o 'x. .1^5 ft 1^ A Hoosier 'Coon Hunt . . . . . . 5 Sugar Makin' Time . . . . . . . . 7 When We Was Boys . . . . 11 Sentiment Versus Improvement . . . . ..15 The Old Foot Log .. .. .. 18 Eli . . . . . . . . . . 20 To a Violinist . . . . . . . . 21 Evening on the Farm . . . . . . . . 22 Sherwood's Pond . . . . . . . . 24 June . . . . . . . . . . 26 To a Pink Petaled Rose . . . . . . 28 To the Toiler . . . . . . . . 30 The Family Fireside . . . . . . 32 Dame Nature's Caprice . . . . . . 34 A Boy is a Boy . . . . . . . . 36 At Rocky-Faced Ridge . . . . . . 39 The Song of the Spirit Primeval . . . . 46 The \^''ood Path's Challenge . . . . . . 48 Pressler's Band . . . . . . . . 30 Telling Them Over . . . . . . ..51 Love, a Problem . . . . . . . . 34 The Lost Rose . . . . . . . . 36 Laugh Instead of Swearin' . . . . . . 57 The Messenger to Garcia . . . . . . 38 A Winter Evening . . . . . . 60 When " Bub " Comes to Our House . . . . 63 CCU30972S Lovingly Inscribed to My Mother T^HE grandest thing God ever made, — And he made many that were good,- Sublimest pattern e*er portrayed. Your own sweet type of womanhood. " You see 'im Bub ? Jist show me ! Oh, yes, on that big Hmb, I see." BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER A Hoosier 'Coon Hunt T T EAR the frost a crackin' in th' trees ^ ^ In th' wood-lot. Law, it'll freeze Tonight. Crisp an' still as the light O' a full moon. Hummin' night Fer coon. Bill, load th' old shotgun. If you're a goin' along. Bub, run Git th' lantern an' th' ax right quick. Pete, you loose old Sail an' Trick An' start 'em out. Hi ! Aye ! Hear 'em tear an' beller. They're a gitten close ont' that old feller. Come along, boys, foller me. They'll soon have him up a tree. Hi ! There ! They've got 'im now. Golly! Don't they raise a row? On a basswood saplin', too, I jing. Bring th' ax. Bub, fell th' thing. See! It's kindo' swayin' some. In a minute down it'll come. Bill, hold Trick. Pete, you ketch Sail. Hold 'em, mind now, tight as whale. Keep 'em back there in a row An' when it falls jist let 'em go. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER Thoc it goes! Let 'cm loose. Nofir JHt waidi diat oooB Hip! Wkiop! HearHsqaalL That *are oaam aia*! jiit so wmaJL Sc! Sic mS^ Bfe BTikL Latw. diat oooB 6^ Eke Ke^ bac^ BoK aa* give Thcyll sooB se^ Ubi to Us Grab hays, pot oa dieir nBgs Am bnig di* coGDs an* odicr Akgs Am' well go BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER Sugar Makin' Time VVTHEN you hear th' March winds blowin' ^^ An' the wheat begins a kindo' growin', A lookin' green along th' hillsides far an' near. You know that sugar makin' time is here. Th' snow's all gone 'cept now an' then Deep drifts in some secluded glen; In the trees with branches wide A sugar bird sometimes is spied. When th' farmer sees all these 'ere things Hears a robin, first come, as it sings; Sees th' woodland thaw today an' freeze Tomorrow, he goes an' taps th' sugar-trees. At night while th' tired farmer sleeps Jack Frost through th' moonlight creeps, An' tinkers in th' camp alone awhile A hangin' little icicles onto every spile. He freezes sap that's in th' pails Hung to th' trees with hooks an' nails. He'd come out there on mischief bent An' didn't realize how fast time went. But soon th' moon drops out o' sight. An' Frost steals off when streaks o' light Begin to kindo' push up in th' east An' keep on risin' jist like yeast. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER An' then th' sun, a rosy ball o' fire Appears an' keeps a risin' higher Till o'er th' old farm-house it shows. Lights th' outline o' th' river where it flows. Soon in th' camp th' sun's begun To undo all that Frost has done. He draws th' ice-plugs from th' wooden spiles. For he is mos' familiar with Frost's wiles. An' now at last th' sap begins to run. Big drops that sparkle in th' sun. Th' farmer comes out with his team An* leads 'em down to water at th' stream. Then next th' boys come with th' dogs A chasin' chipmunks 'round th' logs. They hitch th' team up to th' wooden sled An' bring th' sugar barrels from th' shed. Then with th' dogs an' team an' all Drive here an' there 'mid bark an' call An' pour th' sap from pails unhung An' fill th' barrels to th' bung. Then they drive back with their load Along th' wiggly, giggly, windin' road An' stop at last before th' boilin' place Where th' kettles hang in space. r do" o c 5' n 3 o BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER Under these they build a roarin' fire An* pile th* back-logs up a little higher. Until th' old log-house is bright An' rosy with th' glowin' firelight. Th' kettles then with sap are filled An' while th' boys a hotter fire build. The farmer skims th' boilin' sheet An' leaves th' liquid only, pure an' sweet. And while he at the sugar camp remains To kindo' poke th' fire when it wanes. The youngsters drive off through th' camp agin An' haul another load o' sugar-water in. When all th' sap's been gathered for th' day They unhitch an' put th' team away Or else haul sugar-wood from far an' nigh. An' pile it up agin th' shed to dry. Then as long as there's any sun in sight. An' sometimes far into th' night, They watch th' sugar-water boil an' foam, — Watch th' smoke rings curl an' roam High up in th' chilly evenin' air An' like th' silent fairies, vanish there; An' when th' darkness settles all around Watch th' shadders playin' on th' ground; 10 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER Or watch th' shadders up among th' trees A flittin', ghost-like, anywhere they please. While th' dogs that should watch most Are seen sleepin' at their post. After a while th' sap boils kindo' low And its color changes to a golden glow And a savor sweet an' good falls 'round That nowhere else on earth is found. Then there is hurryin' 'round about. The syrup's taken off an' th' fire is put out, And all then homeward wend their way Glad th' work is ended for th' day. And thus they work day after day Till th' season wears itself away And the grasses start to growin' in th' spring. An' frogs in th' catswamps begin to sing. When th' buds on th' trees begin to swell It's mighty easy for the farmer then to tell That another run, maybe two, th' last And th' sugar makin' season will be past. Pretty soon th' flies come buzzin' 'round An' daisies peep up from th' ground And now it's time th' pails th' boys must gather Before th' hoops is loosened by th' weather. And thus it ends, the work as well as fun. For both in this are kindo' mixed in one. Here Labor is Fun's sober brother; You can't know one and not the other. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER " When We Wat Boys T VE got three brothers big as me. An' say what sport there ust to be When we was boys. On rainy days we stayed indoors. Run an' jumped, went on all-fours, — Made awful noise. Then Ma come in an' scolded us; Said we'd made a horrid muss. It was a raft O' fun. We'd look scared an' pout While she was there; when she went out We all jist laughed. We played War an' horse an' bear Pretended there was Indians there, — Out in th' hall. Earl would put on Ma's fur cape An' growl an' scratch an' snarl an' scrape An' fight us all. Then we played Waterloo one day: Charged an' banged an' slashed away Till Father called. But we fought on as we'd begun Till he come in, — spanked ever' one, — Then we all bawled. 12 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER We never cared when Ma would scold But Father's voice would turn us cold Most, when he spoke. When Ma would call us up at dawn We'd lay still an' sleep right on. But we soon 'woke When Father came towards the stair An' said, "You boys climb out o' there." We'd up an' dress An' Bill would rub his eyes an' say, "Lordy ! Could jist sleep all day. Short nights, I guess." And Oh, them drowsy summer days When the sun poured down its rays Most like profusion spilt. When the birds jist couldn't sing Fer breathin', and ever'thing Seemed like, would wilt. Then those evenin's when the day Jist like sweet music died away When you didn't want it to. The breezes softened down someway Kindo' zif they'd like to stay The whole night through. One day Father went away 'Specting to be gone all day. That's what he said. Said we should stay an' chore around An' cut weeds in the new corn ground. Sooner been dead BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER is Than to cut weeds. Sun hot an' bright. Eve said he thought the fish would bite. We thought they might An' got our poles, us three an' Bill Slipped down the crick beyond the hill Clear out o' sight. Gee ! but we caught fish that day. An' such ole whoppers, I should say! Jist seemed to wait Fer us to put bait on the hook Then in about a wink they took Their dose o' fate. Had quite a string o' fish by noon But Father come about that soon And found us there. Bill held up the string we'd caught. Said that we'd done well, he thought. Short time we's there. Father's face when he first come Was awful stern, but softened some When Bill said that. Bill's way of sayin' things, seemed like Most always somehow 'peared to strike The spot jist pat. Well, we got scolded quite a bit An' promised what we'd prob'ly git Another time. Bill gethered up the string of fish And said them suckers in a dish Would look sublime. 1^ BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER Us other boys all said "You bet" Picked up the poles that we'd jist set An' follered Bill. Father looked up at the sky And said if he could profisy Them clouds would spill Some water down that afternoon And then them weeds would soon Drownd that com out. But Earl said, "Oh, mebby not In jist that little time it's got. Corn's pritt}^ stout'* Well, we went to school some, too. When there was nothin' else to do Out on the farm. Stand it all right up to June When we could go barefoot at noon. Gee! What a charm The ole crick had fer us. So still, Ripplin' lazy-like at ^vill On Magley's place. Where we could wade an' chase green frogs; Watch turtles ka-plunk off the logs Along the race. Jist seems like but yisterday That I heard "Bub" Magley say, "Now fer a swim," When off we started, ever' soul Makin' fer the swinmiin' hole In the growin' dim Of evenin' while the whip-por-will Somehow kindo' haunted Bill With its song. And an old owl yelled out "Who-o-o'* And jist as if he thought he knew Laughed loud an' long. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 15 Sentiment Versus Improvement A CUR'OUS feelin' comes a-tuggin' at my heart That ends up in a kind o' half-hke shiver When I reflect that they're goin' to start Next spring an' dredge down ole Blue River. Of course it will redeem some land Which as it is ain't wuth a Continental ; But, Lor' a' Mighty ! You don't seem to un'erstand — It ain't no question o' jist cost an' rental. Maybe you never played along that stream In blouse an' bluejeans when you was a boy; Or cast a line athwart th' sunshine's gleam An' watched th' cork bob up an' down fer joy. Maybe you never slipped away at noon With Sam an' Bub an' Jud an' Bill An gladder'n a brown thrush's tune. Spent hours in th' swimmin' hole beyont th' hill. 16 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER It does a feller jist a heap o' good To saunter down that hooky-crooky path agin That winds through flags an* dense brushwood That your fish-Kne ust to git all tangled in. Most ever' nook an' turn in that old stream Has a warm place in my recollection spot. But that 'are tarnalation dredgin' scheme '11 up an' spoil it all, jis' like as not. Picturesqueness is th' life o' Art, An' old Blue River surely had her share An' Bub an' Jud an' us jist knew by heart Ever' nook an' crook 'round anywhere. But then I s'pose it's got to go, — Th' neighbor's all got their heads set. Yet deep down in their hearts, I know They're smotherin' down some huge regret. It won't seem like th' same old place When they git th' stream-bed all dug out. An' drain th' water from th' old mill-race, — Spoil all th' beauty of it, jist about. Th' Deep-hole will be all filled in, Th' knotty foot-logs all be cut away. Gee Whiz ! Th' old creek won't begin To have th' beauty of that gone-by day. Won't be no fishin' grounds no more With drifts cut out an' deep-holes gone; No hidin' places like they had before. An' like a grasspike's always countin' on. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER i^ Seems like thwartin' Natur', sure. To up an' twist her plans around Jist to make improvements and insure Redeemin' of a foot or two o' ground. Oom! Jist give me one more fleetin' chance At childhood down on them old banks; Let us do jist one more Indian dance While that 'are red-bird whis'les thanks. Or dive off in "old Deepy" 'nother time, A startin' 'way up there above th' bend. An' hold my breath till my ears chime — Come sputterin' up down at th' other end. Hide all our clothes, as them boys did. An' let th' deerflies bite like sin; Mud me up from head to foot till I'm mos' hid, N'en up an' douse me in head first agin. I'd like another chance about last o' September To go a nuttin' with th' boys awhile, — Takin' th' path they all would remember, Jist go along old-fashioned, Indian style. Start a rabbit somewhere in th' swamp An' see 'm skite off through th' brush. An' see old Shep yelp out an' jump, An' scare th' daylights out o' some brown thrush. But then folks says th' dredgin' will be done. An' true, I s'pose it mos' jist must. So give me one more look, jist one. Long — lingerin' then let 'em do their wust. Oh well, th' boys ain't there no more. Time's bound to change things more or less. While dollars shines so th' world o'er. Sentiment don't count fer much, I guess. w BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER The Old Foot Log T IKE Ae lustre that peers fondly Tliroagh the portals of a dream Of long ago, looms a YisioD glad Of a great tree f alkn o'er a stream Where in childhood's gusty moments We oft loitered at noonday; In the crystal dqpths beneath os ^ atched the shining minnows play. whirled away beneath us Bearing moments all imseen; And in ^cmous oblivion Of the sonbeams homing sheen Did we watch die armored fishes 0*er the pd)bly bottom ^Ue Showing at each dart and ang^ A clear, tuning, silver side. Hats hmig high up on a limb ; Bare feet pending o'w die tide; Cheek to cheek with glad ^oyment Saw the rq)ples hither ^ide. Hour after hour drifted 'Neath Aat old foot-log each day. Hurried onward o'er the surface All nnhpfdpd on its way. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 19 Drift and sparkle, Recollection, With the sheen of each past day When we hugged Dame Nature fondly In our own untroubled way. The future then all expectation Told no surer Life's next trend Then told it when the next swift eddy Would whirl from above the bend. » BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER EU 1VJ OW, Eli was a rugged pioneer ^ ^ That ust to live in our neighborhood. He fished an' fished th' live-long year, — Jist in his glory when th' fish bit good. And then he liked to hunt some, too. Law me! Oft-times he'd take his houn's an' old shotgun. An' any quail or cottontails he'd see. He'd up, — off hand, — an' two or one. Somehow Eli would git 'em. Jist lots o' times I've seed him stand Somewhere out in our woodlot, while th' rain Come pourin' down, an' unconcerned like, scanned Some dead tree-top, when it seemed mighty plain To me that there was nothin' there, an' yet. First thing I knowed up went his gun, an — bang ! 'I Jing, jist Hke th' whole world was upset. And then I'd see a fox squirrel hang Then drop an' Eli'd git 'im. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 21 To a Violinist T HAVE often wished I could '■' Play a violin as good As some players I have heard. Notes as pure an' sweet an' clear As ever fell on Triton's ear ; Trills light as a mockin' bird, Sometimes dreamy, soft an' low. Then th' notes would swell an' grow Then throb an' sob, then change to gay An' gladsome trill, then writhe in woe. Next in a ripplin' rill tune flow In liquid sweetness fall and die away. Jist seem th' sweetest e'er they're gone When I would hold them on an' on Same as I'd hold th' last bright gleam O' sunset e'er th' twilight's thrall Falls round about an' hides it all. Like sad-glad cadence of a dream. 22 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER Evening on the Farm CVENIN* has come. The day's work is done. You're free to do anything under th' sun. With Pup at your heels you go to th' woods Where th' moon shinin' through th' weather-worn hoods O' th' elm trees that stand on th' river bank Makes ghosts of th' stumps an' snags so lank. In th' swamp th' last drum o' th' pheasant is heard; Mother White is a callin' for Bob, poor bird, Who has hid away from th' hawks all day In th' deep grass that stands by th' way Of th' windin' path that th' cattle have made ; Up out o' th' water th' flock o' ducks wade An' go waddlin' off in single file Up hill, all noiseless, Indian style. By th' same windin' path all rock-strewn an' hard That leads from the river's edge up to th' yard. Pup bristles up to th' bank in a spunk As a muskrat slides into the water ka-plunk. An' all that he sees where th' thing disappeared Is the laughin' old Moon there calmly mirror'd A smilin* as though he had swallowed it up. An 'thought he had played a good joke on poor Pup. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 23 But after a while th* woods becomes still. Your mind with queer fancies seems somehow to fill While over you steals an insistin' desire, — A longin*, in fact, for th' old kitchen fire Then fear come on tip-toe an' says, "Don't look back For goblins an' wildcats is smellin' your track," And a few minutes later you're back at th' house With Pup at your heels and as meek as a mouse. When you've had you're supper, read th' news o' th' day. An' pulled off your boots, — ^put th' boot-jack away. When th' folks are all nappin' an* nothin's bein' said. Slip away in your stockin'-feet upstairs to bed. 24 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER Sherwood's Pond TVTEIS'LEX) snugly an' serene In a quiet vale that stretched bet^veen Two hills, on the eastward orchard crowned. On th' westNvard woodland bound. Where crooked pathways wind and creep And fleecy patches mark the browsing sheep; Banks with green grass fringed an' lawTied, Memory veiled, Hes Shens'ood's Pond. We ust go acrost lots to school Through th' fields an' orchards as a rule An' had to pass by the pond on our way An' I tell you, on a summer day With sunshine floodin' things all over. Fish a-flouncin' an' bees in th' clover. It WcLs jist hke drivin' Swigart's mule To git our feet to go t'ward school. Seems like only jist last year. With sunmier come an' dog days near. That us youngsters, pleasiu^e bent. To that 'are pond at high noon went. Sailed our boats an' fished an' swam In th' deep hole by th' dam. > 9 a. n a o o a o CO BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 25 After we*d swum an hour or more, Some, shiverin* cold, would wade ashore. Quiet-like, an' start a-puttin' on their clothes. When someone in th* pond would hold his nose. Dive an* bring up clay-mud from th' bottom. If th' fellers on shore wasn't watchin' — swat 'em, — Smear 'em with mud till there was nothin' else to do 'Ceptin' wade back for another plunge or two. Seemed like ever'body in the country knew 'Bout that 'are ix)nd, an' knew Jud Sherwood, too. He liked to hunt nuts in th' fall In Foust's woods, an' th' tree was mighty tall* That he couldn't shin up to th' very top An' slash till th' last nut would drop. Could make bows an' arrows out o' hick'ry wood ; Shoot 'em, too, straight as any Indian could. Jud was always makin' somethin' new Like divin' boards an' rafts fer floatin', too. An' many a time we worked away till dark To float some new concern that he called Noah's Ark, Till his mother, kind o' worried, would call "Judd-e-e" about then An' he dim upon th' fence an "Whoo-whoo-ed" back again. In winter-time the ice was a foot thick Then broke an' over-run an' re-froze slick. Th' whole Beech Chapel crowd come down With skates an' sleds; some come from town An' after tumblin' 'round a heap a-tryin' fancy whirls Th' big chaps kind o' edged around to walk home with th' girls. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER In \Ninter's cold or summer's heat That *2Lre old pond was hcird to beat An' when I ponder o'er them days gone by When Jud an' Sam an' Eve an' I An' Bub an' Bill jist lived down there. So to ^>eeLk, Lords o' earth an' free as air, I jist natur'ly can't help a thankin' God For that 'are p)ond o' water an' them hills o' sod. June \ T tide of mom in bud o' June ^^^ ^Tien Life seems fresh and balmy-lined. When all the birds their lyres tune As though they kind o' half divined Th' way of things; the sun half shines. Half gloams, an' no breeze stirs; Th' droopin' leaves jist sort o' pines An' Nature Ustlessly defers The things of Earth an' lets 'em steep; The cricket seems to drone his lay. The spiders reef their webs to creep Into an' sleep a lazy spell away; That 'are is June. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 27 Then after while that gloom thicks up. The air hangs heavy, hot an' low; Each flower droops its little cup An* seems ter wait; the roosters crow Then slip away on tip-toe like Toward th' shed an', one-legged, there Make prophesy; the breezes strike Up soft an' balmy ever' where And darkness seems someway to drop Down on th' earth. Just then th' rain Comes sprinklin' through the old tree-top — Like prelude to some fuller strain — That 'are is June. Then dark — and darker — darker still. The air gits more an' more menacin*. Then zif some sea'd upset to spill An' come down ever'thing defacin'. And all the Furies had got scared An' had let loose of ever'thing. Then when they'd doneit, kind o' cared. Relented, did their best to bring Back peace o' the Elements — and then the Sun Looks out an' smiles a smile so good An' seems so glad at what they've done; The Brown Thrush laughs loud in th' Wood — That 'are is June. » BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER To a Rnk-Petaled Rose r^ TELL ^^ So pare and HowdUjon^dkose tints of HeafOft's boiis? The qfueens of every realm in secret pine Your tints and sweetoess, Yoiir racfiaiit onvlriaes. Yet ne'er fivcd cpKoi wA bet iMt Was k bnn tk GanlcB of dK Godi 7« Im^bt Perfumed And pelab fair anc - i:— Jumaly li MWwjil ? I ivonder iii^ the ivbole iiRodd loves joa so. Vrhy snobeaBBS kwiL Ac 9^ wiieiisaa yvm 90if . WIqt palace boA and !■« are pravd to be Spots of yom ^iwwMii^ Yov pebJ-bnrst at n)annDg s Dear perfecbon as can be. Your land has bloomed throng countless ages Alwmf% ELach year wilk bker bloom-bant ikas Ae hdL BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 29 Your perfume spreads a dream- veil over me. Which stirs me queerly, — Bids me love you dearly. Drives sorrow herice and gives the world to me. Oh tell me, radiant, rare, pink-petaled Rose, Drooping so divinely. Smiling so benignly. How have you kept those tints of Heaven's bows? 30 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER To The Toiler "VE SONS of Labor, why this turmoil, ^ Why this unending, fierce disquiet? Why this so violent commotion, — This ever growing lust for riot? The end you aim at. Oh my Brother, Is not brutal mobilation. What can you hope from wanton bloodshed,- What wreak you of annihilation? Who envieth a richer brother Breeds but ferment around his soul. You know not how his coffers grew, — Whose lifeblood wrought his talent roll. The womb of Poverty doth breed Not only fair, angelic mould. Nor that of pampered Wealth bear forth Lone Devil-monsters fierce and bold. Have you not seen of times untold Fairest of lilies from dunghills spring And richest of soil from substance pure But rank growth of thistles bring? Who of you would not bravely bear The smite of Wealth if you but found Rolled 'neath the hand that dealt the blow Its millions done in Sterling pound? The fancied evils we behold Are oft but the fruits of idle mind. Ripened by Envy's gentle warmth. Plucked by a reason goaded blind. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 3i The grandest handiwork of God, — An honest man whose daily cup Stinks not of greed or malice raw. But with contentment welleth up. He who can say when the day is done, In truth, **I did the best I could." Reaps a contentment bom of God, Who, seeing it, pronounced it good. Though it be not our lot to own Goods of this earth measured in gold. Let us, child-like, use what we have. Making of it a wealth untold. He who can look up to his God Delighting in some good deeds done Is richer far than millionaire Who dreads the light of each new sun. Pause then, a moment. Brother mine. Ponder the ends you aim at well. What of the goal for which you strive, — Having but the one soul to sell? Oh that the daily deeds you do Be done to brothers as such should And hand in hand in each day's strife Make him to think that it was good. What though your days be days of toil Enshrouded at times in damps and mud, — Strive on, with soul all clean of spoil; Hands unstained with your brother's blood. In that day when we shall be judged, — When the Great Judge shall say, "Divide." We will not be judged by gold in store. But by deeds to those at our side. 32 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER The Family Fireside A MID evening shades of an Autumn day When the sun had hid itself away Beyond th' forest's darkenin' screen. Where grim gray trunks are dimly seen In shadder, you kind o' feel a strong desire To pile th' wood high on the kitchen fire An' there toast sides an' cheek an' nose In th' heat th' big blaze throws Out ever' where. It's logic to get pretty near If someone's claims don't interfere. Though laws of cige-right in th' home Are bindin' as th' laws o' Rome: Father sittin' yonder with th' news Has let his paper drop to snooze An' mother's there on t'other side a-knittin' On someone's woolen sock or mitten With now an' then a nod an' jerk An' wakin' up to resimie work An' pick up stitches that she dropped At th' time her knittin' stopped. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 83 Pup lays there behind th' stove A-dreamin' of a whole big drove O* coon an* possum, while on th* mat, A purrin' in contentment lays th' cat; Through th* winder there th* sinkin' moon Shines cold an* calm. Poor night fer coon To be out, and th* lurin', cracklin* blaze Flashin' out its genial rays. Keeps you there. Oh th' joys of them evenin's, th' cheer Of that fireside a long ago so dear, And those warm, delightful rays Still through Mem*ry's portals blaze As at times I pull them open wide An* bask agin by that old fireside. Let th' moon jist wink an* blink ; Let Jack Frost play rinky-tink In th* trees, while th* coons jist scream An' th' possums hang an' dream Where they are; let th' night-larks flitter; Let th' screetch-owls screetch an' twitter; Pup an' me are mos' content To let things lean th' way their lent, — To rough it on the present fare With coonpelts hung 'round ever'where. While th' evening slips away An' hastens in the' wake o' day. 94 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER Dame Nature's Caprice T\ AME Xatu.r :.:- {:.t ;;■-.:.. ..;:.ngs,. ^*"^ If 1 ime but stops to prune kis wiags Or turn the sane :n ni: r:rnt s^ass. And X ::::.i j senmcl. It \^•as late in October grown No c: - • /- ' ^ e'er this day had blo\N-n. The sun v, ; :rr.L. the day was warm, The whiows green, no signs of storm. They say, were seen. All o'er the land sti.. :;: ;. :t seen Both trees and cusr.es dressed in green. There still the robin peri-rTi: ?nd sang, The dove as ^vhen r.r;: :;:.:ng notes rang Cooed in content The orchard yet de&ed the fiosL T e ' - ^ trees the breeze sbll tossed. A solitary :.;:-: :m peeped \^'ith tints fr:ni an old rainbow steeped From shaded ho\s-er. Then night came on, the sun still bright Went d: .. ;,nd hid the earth from sight; Dame Nature came forth m the dark, She s : ; and meadowlark« /.-..e 1 ime knewnoL BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^ She cast o'er earth a robe of snow And made the cold, chill winds to blow; Built white pagodas for the hare And o'er the foxes' lair Raised portico. The storm she hurled through elm and oak And maple, which but moaned, then broke The lone bud's stem, and loud complained. Its lovely rainbow tints disdained. And cast it down. At morning Time was quick awake. He thought there must be some mistake When people said, " 'Tis Winter cold." But half the days his accounts told Were done of Autumn. But when he'd cleared his eyes of night The truth dawned with the morning light. 'Dame Nature has been here, I see," He said, "And wrought a joke on me. Few are as she." * BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER A Boy is a Boy HE'S BUT a boy." folb say. "AD he's fit for is play." But Sk Doy noiif , inclrra, Afi^hacve a wofse cataac to plead, ihofigli a boy has nis Halfof^rfiicliBOOM Nopir, im dodies may not fit. But he doesi't bmI iL It is his own affair ShonUhe I naJi not his hair Wide he's a hoy. His bioafl face may be smeared, tfis hands faioiVM aad seared. He's BO lime to keep dean WheB dme's woifc to he seen ; C^ die faim or m %amm FiOB sD»«p to ^m - <1liw I^ fivk anfthMg to «lo)> — Somedmig novel and new To a boy. Then diose maudlin fists Both leem hiose at the wiids. And diat li Mil iiiiL talk Aad diat -ISdEfaB" walk Ashe dnows a^ his chest And heals it wilh zest Of a boy. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 3? Then fishing time came. He must go just th' same So he hid the big hoe And let the weeds grow. He acted from reason: There is but one season For good fishing, they say. Weeds would grow anyway To worry a boy. He could ride that colt, Nell, With a wave and a yell ; Every tool on the place he He could wield with fine grace; Any piece he could speak. Though his voice oft would squeak. And then when he sang With that bullfrog-like twang — But why should he care? There was nobody there Better'n a boy. Tell a story of war. Though it date back to Thor, It would stick in his brain Like a link in a chain Were he a real boy. He looked manly and bold Oftentimes when told Of the deeds he would do When to manhood he grew; How in far distant lands He would fight the "brigands," Aye! And win him a name Twined with garlands of fame So dear to a boy. 38 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER Then why should you scold? Soon enough he'll grow old. Let him build castles gay. Time will clear them away. He must have room to build. Let those hands become skilled. Who has more need of sway? He's heard all of you say, — Read in song and in rhyme. That there shall come a time When he won't be a boy. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^ At Rocky-Faced Ridge A tale of war, as related by a soldier of the late Rebellion while we lounged by a campfire on the banks of Blue River one evening in springtime, after we had **8et our fish poles" and waited for the suckers to bite, as they traveled up stream, which they usually do during the month of March, lurking in the deep holes of the channels. T T was in spring in sixty-four. '^ The war waged on with ramp and roar, And Sherman with his armies three Was marching boldly toward the sea. As morning sun streamed o'er the vale. Quick sounded drum taps from the dale Which roused the soldiers from repose; A noise of martial tread arose And many came for last roll call E'er in the throes of war they'd fall. On Georgia's sunny slope a town Called Dalton, then of small renown. Was guarded by the Southern foe. And north from this more strength to throw About this city small, a band Upon a towering ridge took stand. This ridge fell off to northward down Six hundred feet and seemed to frown Upon the Union host. Then on Afar to northward as a lawn. The ridge with summit narrow grown 40 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER Found end in mammoth crags of stone. Here Thomas with his army lay. And quiet waited dawn of day. A quiet that foretold a storm: The sun forth coming bright and warm. Saw tented host gleam o'er the dale; Part on the ridge, part in the vale. Some wrapped in sleep, the prelude sweet To that deep rest Time would repeat. And when at length the camp awoke. High rose a thousand campfire's smoke; Then loud and clear the bugle peal Announced the soldier's frugal meal. No orders yet had been received. And those from duty last relieved Lounged in the camp to rail And jest or tell some thrilling tale Of war or chase. Now in one place A youth of noble form and face. Whose furlough ended had returned. Whose heart for fame and rank deep burned. Before his tent sat all alone, While o'er his form the sunbeams shown: A dreamy, listless, faroff gaze Shown in his eyes, the wonted blaze Of humor gone, that had before Made felt the good will there in store. He drew a package from his breast. Which to his mother was addresed. In silence looked he on it long. "Today will tell, if right or wrong," At length he said and it replaced And to his duties fell in haste. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^i Tipped back upon a mass of light. Soft hair, a veteran cap of bright. New shades he wore. Lieutenant was His rank and as wise warrior does Took time to poHsh his good blade That keener edge his cause might aid. As thus he sat, another lad Approached, exchanged the hat he had For that Lieutenant Ehlers wore, (For this the name the young man bore) , And through the camp went on parade While busy Ehlers no heed paid. At length an omnious boom was heard. The bugle screamed like angry bird The call, "Fall in." Quick all obeyed. The army stood in force arrayed; Lieutenant Ehlers hailed the youth Who wore his cap and said, "Deluth, I want my cap, please." **Oh, let me Wear it just today," said he. "No," Ehlers said in grave, firm tone "The cap I wear today, mp oTpn Must be, for something says within That though in strife we loose or win. Upon the field today I die. That cap must croTvn me where I lie,** The lad in awe returned the gear. The Colonel, Mcllvane, stood near By chance and overheard the last. His mind recalled their boyhood past; He quickly stepped to Ehler's side. Strong gush of feeling could not hide. And said, "Lieutenant, you have been ^ BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER Found true to duty and your men And if in truth you feel this way. Retire to the train and stay Until this dark day's work is done. Thy widowed mother needs her son" "Colonel,'* the soldier said, the grave Look still in tone and eye, "The brcn^e Should never swerve from Dut^*s call. Though danger point them to their fall; Nor would my mother wish to see A vacant post w^here I should be. I leave this package. Sir, with you. And if be this presentment true. Give it to her, say for the most, *He died a soldier at his post.* " The colonel knew not more to say. The package took and turned away. E'en now the movement had begim. The seige guns came and one by one Toiled from the north through narrow lanes Which winding upward from the plains Found passage through the craggy wall Like entrance to a convent hall. Through this one piece was drawn by hcmd. Round it brave gunners took their stand. Like hail the bullets round them tell Like tenpins fast the gunners fell. No mortal strength could stand the storm, No gunner could his part perform. E'er leaden missile true to aim Reeked ghastly impress on his frame. Then quickly was the piece withdrawn. As quick the infantry came on BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^ Out through the gap like swarming bees. Like rushing torrents of the seas Rush o'er that table land of death With flashing eye and measured breath; They form and make a gallant dash 'Mid rain of death and blinding flash. Dense clouds of smoke envelop all. By scores they see their comrades fall. A moment more and they had won. To scale the wall they had begun When o'er the fortress wall of stone. On foeman gun a white hat shown. '*Cease fire, cease fire," the siege men cried, 'Cease fire," was echoed far and wide. 'Their strong defence doth not avail." Like sudden lull in mighty gale The firing ceased, the smoke-clouds rose And rolled away, but to expose To surer aim the seething mass Forthcoming through the narrow pass. Woe, woe to life when paused they here With victory waiting them so near. For quick the foe made this avail To hurl again their leaden hail. Changed exultation to despair; Besiegers fell by hundreds there. Till mortal could endure no more. And then they fled like deer before The scorching flames of prairie-fire To gain the pass — their lone desire. « BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER The few survivors rushed pell-mell. Left dead and d>'iiig where they fell. And refuge sought behind the row Of friendly crsigs, and dared but Aow A hmb, e'er musket-bullets true Quickly pierced it through and through. Then Mcllvane forth came and said, "W'Tiere's Elhlers, Wolf?" but qfuickly read The answer in the captain's eyes: *'Out vonder. Colonel, Ehlers Hes." Another man for Wolf repHed "Come, boys; we'll carr>' him inside," The Colonel said, and strode the way. A dozen forms his progress stay. "It means sure death to venture there — Few more today our cause can spare,** He waved them back and in deep tone Cried, "Stay, Fll bring him back alone." Then stayed he not to hear reply. Then heeding not the warning cry. Went forth. Ten paces scarce he made When hfe the debt of valor paid- A bullet felled him in his track. "Drag me hack, boys; drag me hack," He cried. A dozen comrades came. They drew him back, they spoke his name. Silent, pale and weak he lay While strength and Hfe fast ebbed away. Thus on the field in ill-starred fray Two noble lives went out that day. Like loyal knights, in days of yore. True friendships stood the test once more. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^ That night the foemen stole away And on the field at break of day Lay many forms so cold and still. Devoid of strength and life and will. Their comrades laid them in their graves In battle dress, like Sachem braves. There resting calm from war-throes free. They await a grander Reveille. BALLADS : " LLAI PL AIR The Song of the Spirit Primeval T^HE]RE*S a sweet, majestic miisic ^ In the silence of the gloaming. An asBDiance in the wing-beat Of die swallow's evening homing. There's a si^endiH- in die heam-ny Of die son-nse of die inoiiDng» And a ^hckess in die Uoom-bmst Of each lose's fair adorning; There's a heait-duob in die noon-day Of a Jane-day gendy wanning And a nqitnre m die dood-ioQ And die dmnder's wiMesI stonning; There s a sympadietic shnrer In die dew-diop's silent dinging Like nnio a tear-diop's qoiiFer 'Neadi die lash idxre smow's wiinging; Someone's singbig scxnevdiere alway And some sool is ever dnilling. D :e airing, wond'ni^ hoping; Ever We some heart is filling. Ever izA: in pure primevaL E e: : :eadi of sin in smiting, Se a: s = r. z r. i: :: ens its first heauly, ~ = s ^ : c: s :iz 3.2 e for its lifflitiiig. Li^e unto a sea-didl singing SoDg of sea from whence in se. At length I said, "Another day And then I'll pluck this flower rare. Till then from it my hand I'll stay, — Leave it to bloom in beauty there. Alas! Alas! E'er morning came, — E'er dawn had blossomed into day, — Another hand in stealth (O Shame) Had borne my peerless rose away. TTie other roses bloomed there still, — The hand had plucked but that lone one. But none of these, somehow, could fill Place in my heart as it had done. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^7 Laugh Instead O' Swearin' T^HERE'S a funny side to farmin', ^ Just as lots of people say. But there's sides that ain't so charmin'. If you farm to make it pay. If you strike a stump or stone When you're breakin' up new ground. When a shin-stroke makes you groan. It ain't so easy, I'll be bound. To laugh instead o' swearin*. In summer when you're makin' hay Folks thinks 'at it's all meadow-larks. Kind o' fairy-land all day. But storms come on and lightnin' sparks Foretell a rain, hay cut and dry; When you've hustled, worked and sweat. Are ready for the bam to hie — The load falls off, — you most forgot To laugh instead o' swearin*. But when the ploughin's done at last. Corn's growed up an' hid that stump. The storm with rush and dash is past. The larks jist pouch their throats out plump. The hay is in, though turned some black. All mishaps of the past forgot. The soft breeze rolls the wheat waves back. At least when things go right, why not Laugh instead o' swearin'. 58 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER The Messenger to Garcia ^/7HERE is the hero. Brave Garcia, ^^ Bulwark of Freedom in Cuba?' Questioned the voice of the Nation. Liberty waited, breathless and fearful. For in the Island's interior. Far in the depths of the mountain; There in the fastness of Nature, Hoarding their strength for the issue. Strong in their knowledge of right. Were her defenders. Answer came none to the question — "What can be done for their succor?" Anxious again spoke the Nation *Who then will find the brave leader. Bear him our message and cheer him?*' Nature then answered and straightway Brought forth a man for the purpose; Modestly took he the message. Safely and securely he wrapped it, Placed he it under his garment, and Went on his mission. Rowan, the man with a purpose; Rowan, the trusted, the fearless. Dreamed he nor stayed single moment, — Glance of his eye told a story ; Moved he a Spcirtan determined. BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER ^9 A poem of graceful precision As without thought of the future, — Glancing not back as he wended His armor of will girded firmly With good sword of Damascus courage He guarded the message. Not of the way did he question. Fearless to southward he wended On from the seat of his Country, — Onward he sped o*er the waters, — Landed at last on the Island E'er a fourth day had departed. On through the land of the foemen, — Far through the thorns and the tangles. Threading his way through the sand plains,- Found he at length the Great Leader, and And gave him the message. Found then, at last and so nobly Found by the will of a knight Nature dubbed, armed and equipped,— Nature Herself his attendant. Hail him, ye lovers of manhood Armed with a bold independence; Hail ye this conquering hero, — Questionless, dutiful, fearless, — Who at the call answered quickly. Who urged by duty to fellow men. Carried the message. «o BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER A Winter Evening A FTER a zero spell's abated Leavin' th* weather moderated. It does seem strange an' no mistake When a feller lays awake Of an evenin' in the winter, Hearin' rain fall hinter-splinter On th' roof with mighty roar An' like a young Niag'ry pour Torrents down th' long eave-spout For th' old rain bar'l enroute. All th' household sound asleep; Blazes up th' chimley leap; Wind a moanin' an' complainin' As if witches was profanin'. Sweeps 'round corners; drops o' rain Dash agin th' winder pane, — Runnin' down it, makes a sight Like comets f allin' in th' night. On th' wall th' clock's a tickin', Givin' Father Time a lickin' For not movin' on his way To catch th' dawn of another day; You jist settin' there a thinkin'. At th' Fire Genii blinkin' BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER «i As they dance in highest glee In th' blaze that sets 'em free. Stir th* embers an' they rise, Snappin', snarlin', ever' wise, Up th' wide brick chimley, Lightin' their way dimly In th' sooty darkness there; Rushin' t'ward th' open air. There to vanish evermore As th' fairies did of yore. Readin' "Heroes of th' Plain," Of th' "Red Men" by 'em slain; How they killed th' buffaloes Till now they're only seen in shows; How th' mountain lions screamed. Wolves awoke 'em when they dreamed, "Braves" with gun an' tomahawk Through th' woods an' wildgrowth stalk An' catch th' hero in th' night. But — ^he gits away all right. Workin' problems now an' then; Tinkerin' with your grammar when Clauses fill up ever' line. Verbs an' adverbs intertwine, Hidin' all th' thought there be Like wild grapevines hides a tree When th' summer's growth o' leaves In a mass around it cleaves. es BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER !■ ., Then let th' rain jist pour For people must all things endure. And by th' blazin' light \\ithin Equal up things cis they kin. And in summer or in >NTnter Let th' rain fall hinter-splinter On th' roof with mighty roar An' like a Young Niag'ry p)our Its torrents dov,Ti th' long eavespout For th' old rain bar'l enroute. -'A BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER 63 When Bub Comes to Our House ID LUE RIVER flows in its still, windin' way '^ Down from th' woods as it did on th' day Long time ago when we played on its shore Clad in th* bluejeans we most always wore When Bub come to our house. Often we fished for th' sucker an' chub. Baited with fish-worms or crickets an' grub; Often ketched bullfrogs an' turtles an' clams — Shut off the stream on the shallows with dams; Lots o' times fried all the fish we had caught In a small skillet we'd slipped out an' brought Down from th' house, over a fire that we made. Built in a furnace that we once had laid When Bub come to our house. Bub was a neighbor of our'n an' come Mostly on Saturdays, stayed all night some. Ust to hunt nuts in th' woods all around. Filled up th' sacks, let 'em lay on th' ground. Got our "Express" with th' side-boards on, — Side-boards we'd made when father was gone, — Hauled th' sacks home. We hauled sand other days; Done all kinds o' things in all kinds o' ways When Bub was to our house. 64 BALLADS OF BLUE RIVER "Giminee Krismas" you'd oft hear Bub say "I ake fer a swim in that old hole today." Then s\\Tmmin' we'd go maybe three times or more. Then when we went up to supper before Dryin' our hair Ma would say, "Your hair's wet. ^Tiere have you been?" We'd say, "Runnin' cin' sweat" Then she'd say, "Such wild boys," an' dien smile Jist zif she knew" where we'd been all th' while. Bub bein' to our house. •Bub. Blue River flows in its same windin' way. Ain't changed a bit, but then Bub has someway. He's growed now an' tall with a digni- fied air; Wears his fine clothes when he goes anj'Avhere ; Business-like look in his eye when he talks; Same kind o' look to hi'self when he walks; Boyhood with him has most come to an end. Now he most always brings out a friend When he comes to our house. Though we're older now ein' can't play th' scamp; Can't play hide-an'-seek in th' old sugai camp; Though that old bucket o' fun is upset; Its genuine pleasure fer all of us yet When Bub comes to our house. MAF 80 1912 ti^ UBRARY