^^aH' X>^ MrsSeurelL ti'4g^Aj:dMi^£im THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES ?^ THE LITTLE FORESTER. ■ His hut was built of forest pine Beneath the greenwood bhade.' THE LITTLE FORESTER AND HIS FRIEND. i galtacl of tire ©Idqn Wmt BY MRS. SEWELL. Author of " Motlier's Last Words," 6^ ■ ;, THE Villi -'^^- AR in the grey and olden time, But dimly known to fame, A woodman, in a forest lived. And Hardfoot was his name. His hut was built of forest pine f, Beneath the greenwood shade. And there he reared his seven sons, And ply'd the woodman's trade. 8 THE LITTLE FORESTER A sturdy band of men they were. And knew to labour well, And many a goodly tow'ring tree Before their axes fell. And many a venerable trunk With moss and lichens brown, They hewed in logs, and carried far Unto a distant town. And many a faggot did they bind For many a winter fire. And from the distant town they brought What things they did desire. And thus they lived from year to year, And well they seemed to thrive. Though they were bold and reckless men As any men alive. AND HIS FRIEND. They never heeded right or wrong, They never thought of God, They never bent a humble knee, Upon the forest sod. Among the ferny dells there strayed The red deer and the roe, And oft to steal the royal deer. These foresters would go. And Roger Hardfoot saw his sons Grow up to steal and lie. And Roger Hardfoot did the same, And so the years went by. But Roger had a little son, A pretty lad was he. His mother died when he was born, Beneath the forest tree. 10 THE LITTLE FORESTER His brothers all were hardy men When he was but a child; And thus he grew a lovely flower, And blossomed in the wild. His eyes were darker than the blue That shades the evening light, His cheeks were like the heather bell Upon the mountain height. His gentle heart was good and true, His simple words were kind, A better little lad than he, But seldom might you find. Oft with his dog in summer days, Around the hut he played. Or side by side in company About the forest strayed. AND HIS FRIEND. II And well he knew the sunny bank, Where scarlet strawb'ries grew, And where the prickly bramble vine, Its laden branches threw. And where the squirrel stored away His heap of winter food, And where the wild bee's honeycomb Was hidden in the wood. He knew the beech trees where the deer Lay in their green arcade, With branching antlers peering up Beneath the twinkling shade. And where the moss was thick and soft And autumn leaves were spread. He spied the tiny dwelling, where The dormouse made its bed. 12 THE LITTLE FORESTER And he had seen the fierce wild boar Tear up the frozen ground, When waiter's unrelenting hand The forest roots had bound. And all the little birds he knew That built in summer bowers, And all the solitary glens Where thickest grew the flowers. And thus for seven years he lived His happy harmless Ufe, And never learned the wicked ways Of cruelty and strife. There came a day, when all the men Were working in the w'ood, And with their axes bright and keen, About a tree they stood. AND HIS FRIEND. 1 3 Blow after blow — blow after blow, Down came the ringing blade, And echo answered far away, Along the forest glade. Blow after blow — blow after blow — ^ The tree is nigh to fall — " Stand back ! stand back !" the woodmen cr>% " Stand back, both one and all !" Down — down it came, with headlong force, And with a crashing sound, It struck old Roger on its way, And felled him to the ground. They raise him up, they bear him home. Dismayed and wounded sore, They lay him down upon his bed — He'll fell the trees no more. 14 THE LITTLE FORESTER There night and day, and day and night, His weary limbs did ache, And day and night, and night and day. His trembling heart did quake. His sins rose up before his face, And stood about his bed. They scared him in his dreams by night. And woke him up in dread. He heard a voice long since forgot. But now remembered well, His mother's voice — that said, " My son. All sinners go to hell." " And I shall go there," Roger said, " I've long been going there — Oh ! could I once, but once again, Hear my poor mother's prayer!" AND HIS FRIEND. 1 5 And day by day, and night by night, Thus sorely did he sigh. Till He, who dwells within the light. Heard Roger Hard foot's cry. And back there came upon his mind, Forgotten words of prayer ; And oft a voice spoke in the night — " To meet thy God prepare !" Oh ! would that some good man would come And fit me for my end, My mother's book had words about One, Christ, the ' sinner's friend.' Oh ! could I find that sinner's friend In this, my hour of need, I'd fall before His holy feet And there for mercy plead." 1 6 THE LITTLE FORESTER Then passed there by the "Prince of Peace," As Roger groaning lay, And said, " Poor sinner, come to me, I'll take thy sins away." He breathed upon his withered heart, And touched his barren soul. Then Roger said, " I come to thee. For Thou canst make me whole." But still a weary weight of woe Oppressed him day by day, As his bold sons neglected him, And took their wilful way. They stole the red deer and the roe. That in the forest strayed, And rather chose to rob the king. Than labour at their trade. AND HIS FRIEND. 1 7 They saw their father pine away, They heeded not his pain. " Oh ! would," said Roger, " I could live My life but once again !" " My time is come, my days are done, I am my children's scorn ; — Oh ! woe the day that I was wed, And that my sons were born !" Then sadly did he call to him. His youngest little son, — "William," he said, "the end draws nieh, My hours are nearly run. " Oh ! William, hear my dying words, A wicked man am I — Oh ! pardon me, my pretty lad, Before the day I die." B 1 8 THE LITTLE FORESTER Sad, sad was William's tender heart To hear his father speak, And heavy tears flowed silently Adown his youthful cheek. " Oh, father ! father ! speak not so — Don't leave me here alone ! My brothers do not like me now. They'll hate me when you're gone." The old man groaned — " Alack, poor lad ! What can I do for thee? Thy cruel brothers learned their ways, Their wicked ways from me. "My sins weigh heavy on my heart — Old sins long passed away, Come back and stare me in the face, And chide me when I pray. AND HIS FRIEND. 1 9 ** Dear William, sit upon the bed, I will confess my sin, Then God may take the burden off. And give me peace vrithin." Then William sat upon the bed, And listened earnestly, And faithful Caesar laid his head Upon his master's knee. With heavy sighs and falling tears, The old man did begin, "The Lord in heaven, 'tis only He Can heal me of my sin. " I smothered it within my breast, I hid it from the light, But God had writ it in His book. And kept it in His sight. 20 THE LITTLE FORESTER "William — I had a mother once, She loved the Lord in heaven, And oft she sang her holy psalms, And prayed to be forgiven. " And she would join my little hands And teach me how to pray. And in her big book she would read, And ponder day by day. " She taught me how to read her book. While standing at her knee. She said, we two would always dwell. Beneath the forest tree. " My father died when I was young, I never saw his face ; But my poor widowed mother stood Just in a father's place. AND HIS FRIEND. 21 " She loved me, William, as her life, I was her only child ; But I grew up a wicked lad, Tyrannical and wild. "At last, upon an evil day, I left my mother there, I did not like her holy book, Nor yet her holy prayer. " I left her all alone — alone — Oh ! would that she could see The sad remorseful tears I shed, The grief that burdens me !" " Where is she, father ? tell me where .'' For I will swiftly hie. And bring her here to comfort you. And tJien, you may not die." 22 THE LITTLE FORESTER "No, William, no— it is too late" — And Roger shook his head, "Tis four days' journey through the wood. And she must now be dead." "Dear father, when the days grow long, I'll search the forest wide. To tell her how you did repent. And love her when you died." "Aye, aye, my lad," poor Roger said, "'Twill do my spirit good, And, O dear William! God will guide Your footsteps through the wood. "And, William, always pray to God, And your confession make. For He will hear you, if you ask For Christ, the Saviour's sake. AND HIS FRIEND. 23 '"Twas so, my mother used to pray, And bid me do the same ; She said that all good things would come Through Christ, the Saviour's name." " Oh ! father, would that God could make My brothers wise and good, Then they would never steal the deer That live within the wood." The old man sighed, and humbly raised His voice in earnest prayer; And William knelt beside the bed, And Caesar watched him there. More feeble grew the lingering spark Of life's expiring flame ; But humble trust and holy peace To Roger Hardfoot came. 24 THE LITTLE FORESTER And often now his trembling voice Besought the heavenly aid, And little William always knelt, And with his father prayed. He fetched him water from the spring, He propped his feeble head, And he and Caesar always kept Their watch about his bed. One night the foresters came home, And brought a stolen deer. With store of brandy in a keg, To make them princely cheer. Full long and loud they did carouse Until the night had fled. And little William fell asleep Upon his father's bed. AND HIS FRIEND. 25 And while he slept, an angel came, Unseen, with silent foot, And Roger's soul Avent forth with him, And left the forest hut. He left the lowly forest hut, And all his pain and care, And passed with that bright angel guide Through radiant fields of air. He went to meet the Prince of Peace Who took his sins away ; And then sat down in Paradise, In beautiful array. When William woke, the hut was still. His father silent lay, And when the poor boy kissed his cheek, His check was cold as clay. 26 THE LITTLE FORESTER Then well he knew the end was come, And his dear father dead ; And long he stood with breaking heart, And sobbed beside the bed. At mid-day meal the men came home, But no lament they made, They went and dug a lonely grave. Deep in the forest shade. They bore their father on his bier, And laid him down to rest. Then hastily they cut the sod, And placed it on his breast. And back they went unto the hut. To eat their stolen food ; But William stayed beside the grave With Caesar in the wood. AND HIS FRIEND. 2/ Then those six cruel men began To work their brother woe ; " If he 'bides here," stern Hugo said, " He'll always be our foe. " He'll tell about this good fat buck We feed upon so well ; He'll bring us to the hangman's hands, Or to the felon's cell. " Yes, he must go," said Boniface, " But do not spill his blood ; I've heard it said, — a brother's blood Cries from the ground to God." "You're right," said Guy, "a better scheme, Will not be hard to find ; We'll take him deep into the wood, And leave him there behind. 28 THE LITTLE FORESTER "We'll take him by a winding way- He never went before, A three days' journey, then he's safe, He'll prate of us no more." " But there's the dog," said surly Sweyn, He's sure to bring him back ; But tie him up — a six days' fast, Will keep him off the track." Wild Cerdic laughed — "The boy is small, He'll not walk half the way; We'd better take the strongest ass, And start at break of day." " Agreed," said Dagobert, " but mind, He must not guess the plan ; He likes to ride upon the ass, And think himself a man." AND HIS FRIEND. 29 "We'll keep it close," said one and all, He'll neither hear nor fear." And then they sat them down to feast Upon the king's fat deer. And William wept beside the grave, And Csesar stood close by, And wistfully looked up to see His little master cry. " Poor Caesar ! we have not a friend. How lonely we shall be ; But Caesar, I'll be friend to you, If you'll be friend to me." Then Caesar licked his master's face, And then he licked his hand, And laid his head on William's breast To make him understand. 30 THE LITTLE FORESTER And down they sat beside the grave, Beneath the forest trees, And faithful Caesar laid his head Upon his master's knees. And all the wood began to sigh. In every trembling leaf, As though it felt a sympathy With little William's grief A bird that built just overhead, Hopped down upon a spray, And glancing at the new-made grave. Trilled forth a pensive lay. The music fell on William's heart. Its voice he understood. For all God's humble creatures speak To children that are good. AND HIS FRIEND. 31 A squirrel leaping on its way, From bending bough to bough, Paused for a moment overhead. And dropped a nut below. The poor boy took the little gift, And looked up in the tree, And patting Caesar's neck he said, " It threw it down for me. " And God will never let us starve, Poor Caesar, if we're good, For He feeds every little thing. That lives within the wood. "We won't be robbers, Caesar — no — Nor like hard-hearted men." — Then Caesar sprang up — gave a bark. And laid him down again. 32 THE LITTLE FORESTER "We'll never chase the little fawns That play about the wood ;" Then Caesar wagged his tail, as though He fully understood. "But we'll be kind to everything, Poor Caesar ! you and I — Because they all belong to Him, Who lives up in the sky." Then round about them in the wood, The birds began to sing, From every thicket far and near. Did sweetest music ring. The cricket chirped beneath the grass, The bees went humming by, And every little buzzing wing Filled in the harmony. AND HIS FRIEND. 33 Light breezes caught the waving boughs, And stirred the fragrant air, And peace filled little William's heart, As he was sitting there. Then with his arm round Caesar's neck, He knelt among the brake. And prayed that God would keep them both, For Christ, the Saviour's sake. This simple prayer went up to heaven, With countless songs of praise, And not a single word was lost. Amid that choral maze. And they two wandered in the wood. Until the close of day, Till brightly rose the silver moon. And daylight died away. c 34 THE LITTLE FORESTER Until the wild bee left the flower. And birds sang vesper hymn, And twilight, with her silent foot. Stole through the forest dim. And William laid him down to rest. And sweetly slept that night, Nor dreamt that trouble lay in wait For him with morning light. But ere the sun rose in the east. While yet the sky was grey, The foresters had left their beds. To hasten him away : While yet the rabbit's track was fresh Upon the dewy grass, They filled their leathern bags with food, And brought the strongest ass. AND HIS FRIEND. 35 They roused up William from his sleep, And roughly bade him dress ; But where they went, or why they went, They left the child to guess. At last, said Hugo, " Be content, We march three days from here, And mean to make a good onslaught. Upon the fattest deer." " They are the king's," replied the child. And gravely shook his head ; The woodmen at each other looked, But not a word was said. Then Caesar came Avith joyful bark. And capered round the ass, And bounded off, and back again, Across the deA\y grass. 36 THE LITTLE FORESTER " Come here," said Sweyn, and grasped him tight, And dragged him from the place ; The poor dog whined, and piteously Looked into WiUiam's face. " Oh ! Sweyn, do let poor Caesar come, Oh ! prithee, let him come, For sure he will be starved to death. If you're so long from home." " Leave that to us," stern Hugo said, And roughly struck the ass ; And forth they went at early dawn. Across the dewy grass. Oh ! sore and sad was William's heart To leave his dog behind. For where should he another friend Like faithful Caesar find ! AND HIS FRIEND. 3/ And many a mile they travelled on, And now the sun was high, Before the silent trickling tears, Upon his cheek were dry. He thought about his father's grave, That he had left behind, And then his father's dying words Came back upon his mind. ^'He said that I might always pray — My heart is fit to break — Oh! God in heaven, pity me, For Christ, the Saviour's sake. ''And my poor Caesar — pity him, He has no friend but me; And I have not a single friend, In all the world but Thee." J 8 THE LITTLE FORESTER Then seemed the little birds to sing Melodious and clear, " He'll pity you, He'll pity you, Poor William, do not fear." The rabbit peeped out from the fern. And said, " He cares for me ;" The squirrel sitting in the beech, Said, " He will care for thee." The bees kept humming to themselves Amongst the honey flowers, " Here's plenty here for summer days. And drowsy winter hours." His brothers did not hear a word, In all the leafy wood ; God's harmless creatures only speak To people who are good. AND HIS FRIEND. 39 Thus hour by hour they travelled on, Along the forest way; To right and left, uphill and down, The distant journey lay. At high noontide they stopped to rest Beneath a spreading oak ; When Hugo with a jeering laugh, To little William spoke. " Suppose, my lad, we left you here, Which pathway would you take } No doubt you're wanting to go back For your dog Caesar's sake." Said William, " I don't know the way, Nor which green path to take, But — oh ! I wish I could go back For my poor Caesar's sake." 40 THE LITTLE FORESTER " Pooh ! pooh ! you will forget the brute Before our journey's end ;" " No, Hugo, no ! — I never shall, I am poor Caesar's friend." The men untied their leatliern bags. And ate and drank their fill. And laughed and joked, but all the time Their hearts were meaning ill. Then through the sultry afternoon They travelled on with speed ; The ass was weary, but the men To that gave little heed. They travelled till the silent stars Came out upon the sky, Until they found a hollow cave, With water gushing by. AND HIS FRIEND. 4 1 It was a wild and rocky place, A deep and gloomy dell, Where hungry wolves prowl out by night, And doleful creatures dwell; Where all night long the weary wind Goes moaning through the wood. And all night long is heard the fall Of that lone water flood. Far in the cavern's deep recess The leathern bags were laid, And forth the woodmen strode again Beneath the heavy shade. Their axes swung, their axes rung The silent forest through ; To make the watchfire bright and high, As wary woodmen do. 42 THE LITTLE FORESTER Then striking sharp with flint and steel, The sparks began to fly, And soon the crackling flames arose, And lighted up the sky. And all about the cavern's mouth Was ruddy as the day, And savage beasts in terror gazed. Then howling fled away. And those stern foresters laid down To rest till morning tide ; And William dreamed his faithful dog Was sleeping by his side. They slept until the rising sun Broke on the chilly day,' The watchfire of the night was dead, The ashes cold and grey. AND HIS FRIEND. 43 Then sullenly the men uprose, And swallowed down their food, And with the child upon the ass. Struck deeper in the wood. Wild were the forest paths that day, Rough, tangled, dark, and drear. Tracked only by the woodman's foot, Or stealers of the deer. The merry-hearted singing birds, Forsook the place afraid. No insect hummed, no flower bloomed Beneath the noisome shade. And little William rode along, Opprest with childish fear ; Why did his brothers go so far To steal the royal deer ^ 44 THE LITTLE FORESTER He often saw their soft black eyes Peer through the tangled screen ; His brothers must have seen them too, What could their silence mean ? If e'er he spoke, they answered not, Or but in savage mood ; And so they slowly travelled through The deep and lonely wood. The ancient trees were thick and high, A gloom was all around ; The gladsome glimmer of the sun Ne'er fell upon the ground. It was a long and weary day ; Footsore, the jaded ass Toiled on through tangled underwood, And rankly matted grass. AND HIS FRIEND. 45 And William, as he pushed away The boughs on either side, Was sad, and heavy at his heart, And but for shame, had cried. But those rough woodmen strode along, Unwearied hour by hour, Alike to them the darksome wood. Or sunny summer bower. Sometimes they quarrelled fierce and loud. Sometimes they sang or swore, And with their stout sticks beat the boughs, To make a way before. At last they halted for the -night Beneath some hoary trees. Where high amongst the topmost boughs, Sad sighed the evening breeze. 46 THE LITTLE FORESTER The night-hawk swept across the wood, And screeched the horned owl, And prowling in the thickets dim, The wolves began to howl. But they cared not, those foresters — They piled the watchfire high, And soundly slept upon the ground. Beneath the midnight sky. Until the rooks woke in the trees, And talked about the light — Until the dawn with rosy hand Drew back the veil of nio-ht. Then still and sullen they arose Determined as before ; And waking up the weary child. They took the road once more. AND HIS FRIEND. 47 The last day's journey was begun, The coming night would shew The reason for this hasty march, And if for weal or woe. But William troubled for his dog, As day by day went by, Though oft rebuffed with churlish words. Still questioned anxiously. At last stern Dagobert spoke out, "We're come to take the deer; If you are sharp, and help us well. You'll have no cause to fear." ' No, Dagobert, I never mean To steal : I should not dare ; My father said 'twould end in grief, And bid us all beware." 48 THE LITTLE FORESTER " Pshaw !" said the ruthless Dagobert, "Why talk such foolish stuff? But take your way, we know our own, And you will soon enough." Then William rode on silently, He knew not what to say ; "I will do right," he thought, "I will, And then, what must come — may." At last — 'twas near the close of day. They came out to the light. Upon a place like fairy land, So beautiful and bright. 'to" The grass was smooth as garden lawn^^ Within a peaceful glade. Where slanting sunlight stole, and lay In stripes of shine and shade. AND HIS FRIEND. 49 The fringed larch, the fragrant pine, The birch that loves the breeze, Stood mingled with the giant growth Of ancient forest trees. It was the hour when woodland birds Return from distant flight, And in their leafy canopies Sing farewell to the light : The hour when floating insects dance Upon the golden ray. With fairy music ringing out The dying hour of day. The foresters threw doAvn their bags. The watchfirc must be made, Before they could securely sleep Within the greenwood glade. D 50 THE LITTLE FORESTER And William stood and watched the moon In radiant beauty rise, And one by one he saw the stars, Come twinkling through the skies. He saw the dusky flitting bat In rapid circles skim, And twilight stealing silently Across the forest dim. Then down beneath the trees he knelt His little prayer to make ; And God in heaven heard his prayer, For Christ the Saviour's sake. The fire was lit, the supper done. And low upon the sward The men lay down, except the one Who kept the watch and guard. AND HIS FRIEND. 5 I And William closed his weary eyes, And all things slid away ; Wrapt in a calm untroubj^d sleep The little woodman lay. And all night long within the glade, Kind guardian angels stood, To shield the lonely orphan boy, So helplesss in the wood. No wolf dare venture near the place, No watchfire needed he. These ministering spirits came His angel guard to be. And high above him in the air, Seraphic music played, And silvery sweet came stealing down These words, — "Be not afraid." 52 THE LITTLE FORESTER Then William woke — " Who spoke to me ? Who said, 'Be not afraid?'" He looked — but no one could he see, Within the moonlit glade. The wood was still, not e'en a leaf Was rustling on the trees. Wild Cerdic slept beside the fire, His head bowed on his knees. Then William raised his wond'ring eyes, The stars were glittering there; And still he fancied he could hear Sweet voices in the air. But as he listened, looking up, Kind slumber gently spread Her stealthy hand, and hushed again The weary traveller's head. AND HIS FRIEND. 53 He slept a sweet and dreamless sleep, The silent hours went by ; The full round moon slid down, and left The day dawn in the sky. And still he slept — no guilty thought Disturbed his peaceful rest ; No wicked plans of cruelty, Found harbour in his breast. At last, two busy chattering daws, That fed a brood close by, Dispersed the drowsy mist of sleep, And woke him with a sisfh. '&>' He rubbed his eyes, to clear away The dimness of his mind — Could this be true .-' his brothers gone, And he left there behind ? 54 THE LITTLE FORESTER Yes, it was true, — those wicked men, While yet the morn was grey, Rose up in haste, and took the ass, And softly stole away. And they went darkly on their road, With hearts as hard as stone ; More friendless than the orphan boy, They left to starve alone. 'Twas long before this dreadful thought Took hold upon his mind, He yet might follow after them, — He was not far behind. But how to choose ! four pathways met. All leading different ways ; It was a labyrinth of doubt. No clue to thread the maze. AND HIS FRIEND. 55 He ran as fast as he could run — Then shouted loud and long — He listened — not a sound was heard, Except a Hnnet's song. Then eagerly he sought to find Some footmarks of the ass ; But not a print of man or beast Was left upon the grass. Perplexed he stood — his heart beat quick, But there he must not stay ; Perchance they took another road, There was a broader way : Quick as the thought, again he sped Fast down the broader way. Though many a tangled branch and bough Across the woodpath lay. 56 THE LITTLE FORESTER To right, to left, he looked in vain. Then whistled loud and clear ; His brothers often did the same. To make each other hear. Then anxiously he stood to catch A distant answering tone — But none came back — the forest trees All whispered, " They are gone." His heart was nigh to burst, but now He must not stop to cry ; He would try all the paths — he hoped That still they might be nigh. He tried them all, but all in vain, There was no sight nor sound, And tired, frightened, weeping sore, He sunk upon the ground. ^ AND HIS FRIEND. 57 Poor little William ! Did no eye Behold him weeping there ? Were those kind angels gone away, Wlio heard his evening prayer ? Oh, no ! God's angel ministers Their trust have ne'er betrayed ! Unseen, they cheered the little lad, Till he was not afraid. He wiped away his heavy tears And sat upon a stone, And looked about, as though he felt He was not quite alone. " I will content myself," he said, " Close by this place to stay. They're only gone to catch the deer, They'll not be long away. 58 THE LITTLE FORESTER " There may be strawberries growing here ; And now the sun is high, I need not think about the wolves, For they will not come nigh." As William spoke, a robin hopped Upon a fallen tree, And happy in its humble lot, It warbled cheerily. Two doves were cooing in a larch, He saw a little wren Fly swiftly from its tiny nest, And then fly back again. He saw a magpie come and go, He thought her brood was near. And in a whitethorn bush he heard, A mavis whistle clear. AND HIS FRIEND. 59 The waving branches of the beech With every zephyr played, And patterned all the mossy ground With dancing light and shade. The mossy ground was covered o'er With flowers of every hue, And wandering ivy crept between And laced them through and through. And deep within a sunny dell A brook ran twinkling by. For ever singing to itself A cheerful melody. Here William wandered hour by hour, Till hunger pinched him sore ; Then rose the dreadful thought again, " They'll never come back more ! 6o THE LITTLE FORESTER " Oh, brothers, do come back again ! Do answer when I call !" He called — there was the bird, the bee, The brook, and that was all. Again his little heart gave way ; The day began to die; The shadows deepened in the woods. And darker grew the sky. And as the sun went down — the wind Rose with a sudden swell, That whistled through the withered fern. And sighed along the dell. A solemn hush ran through the wood, Then softly died away ; Then rose again, and all the trees, Began to heave and sway. AND HIS FRIEND. 6l The child looked up with clasped hands, In mute and helpless woe, A friendless, homeless orphan boy, Oh ! whither can he go ? Whilst standing thus irresolute, A sound fell on his ear — The distant barking of a wolf — His blood ran chill with fear. But subtle instinct nerved him then, He sprung into a tree, And seizing hold of branch and bough, He mounted speedily. With throbbing heart, and trembling hands, He grasped the branches tight, Determined not to lose his hold Through all the dismal night. 62 THE LITTLE FORESTER But hardly was his foot secure In that strange hiding place ; When, far away, right through the wood, O'er many a rood of space, He saw a light — a little light, That burnt with steady flame — Perchance from some lone woodman's hut, Or traveller's lamp, it came. A cry of joy from William broke, He slid down from the tree, Resolved at once to seek the place. Where that light seemed to be. But low upon the woodland path. His guiding star was gone ; " I don't mind that," the poor boy said, " I know just where it shone." AND HIS FRIEND. 63 Fast down a long uneven hill With eager haste he sped ; The wolf might be upon his track ; It was for hfe he fled. Then up another hill he toiled, There, was the light once more ! Just like a woodman's lonely lamp — And nearer than before. " Thank God !" he said, with swelling heart, " He'll guide me all the way ; The light shines now upon my path, And makes it plain as day." Again the path led down the hill, Again he lost the light ; But now the friendly moon looked forth, And smiled upon the night. 64 THE LITTLE FORESTER How welcome was her shining face, How bright the silver glow, That fell upon the forward road, And lit a vale below. Deep in that valley William saw A shining water spread, Like some swift river rushing by Upon a shallow bed. A moment it was lighted up, Then heavy clouds drove on, And in the gloom the rushing stream And valley — both were gone. And, hark ! a sound fell on his ear That chilled his very blood — A steady, padding tread of feet, Fast coming through the wood. AND HIS FRIEND. 65 When William heard it, he stood still, He knew the dreadful sound, His feet refused to move a step, He sank upon the ground. Whilst on, still on, the padding beast Came nearer, and more near, Then stopped, and put a cold wet nose Close up to William's ear. Alas ! and must this be his end ? W^ill that grim beast devour? Is there no guardian friend at hand To help him in this hour ? He felt the warm breath on his cheek. And then a soft moist tongue, And then, a whining cry of joy, And up, the poor boy sprung. E 65 THE LITTLE FORESTER " It is my dog ! it is my dog ! My friend ! my Caesar — dear ! How did you, Caesar, break the cord ? How did you find me here ?" Then Csesar capered, barked, and whined. Till William understood He'd bitten through that cruel cord, And tracked him through the wood. Oh ! there was joy in that lone wood. That night so bleak and wild, As lovingly together met, The dog and orphan child. 'But, Caesar, there is danger here, This is a dreadful place; I thought you were a hungry wolf Before you licked my face." AND HIS FRIEND. 6/ Then on they travelled side by side, Conversing as they went ; To all, his little master said, Good Caesar barked assent. They soon came down upon the stream That rushed along the vale — When William eyed the roaring tide, He trembled and turned pale. And long he stood irresolute — How long he might have stood. Were hard to guess, had he not heard A wolf howl in the wood. With that, he dashed into the stream. That whirled him on its wave ; "Caesar!" he cried, "I shall be drowned! Oh ! Caesar — come and save !" 68 THE LITTLE FORESTER But Cresar needed not that cry ; He plunged into the tide, And caught his coat, and drew the child Safe to the other side. Then through the reeds and river grass^ And rushes long and rank, The poor boy struggled manfully, And scrambled up the bank. " Thank God !" he said, " I'm safe again," And hard he gasped for breath ; " If Caesar had not come to-night. This would have been my death. " Good dog !" he said, and Caesar shook A flying shower of rain From off his coat, and with a bound, They both set off again. AND HIS FRIEND. 69 They strained along the uphill road — Sometimes the moon shone out And lit the path— then hid again, And left them all in doubt. But not a whit dismayed were they, Till nearly at the top, When, with a shock they started back, And made a sudden stop. Just midway in the road before, There flashed two glaring eyes Of some fierce monster, prowling out To seize upon a prize. Soon, came an angry snarling growl, And Caesar darted by. And answered back the snarling growl, As bold and fearlessly. •JO THE LITTLE FORESTER Then flashed those glaring eyes again, And, with a springing bound, The wolf charged down upon the dog, To pin him to the ground. The combat rang throughout the wood, Most terrible to hear. And William could not move a step. But stood transfixed with fear. " Oh ! he will kill my dog ! my dog !" He cried in wild despair, And then he called on God aloud, In agonies of prayer. The fight went on more furiously — Which of the two will yield } Will Caesar or the hungry wolf Fall on this battle field ? AND HIS FRIEND. 7 1 Good CjEsar! not a thought had he About his own dear Hfe, 'Twas for his httle master's sake, He faced this bloody strife. The wolf might tear him limb from limb, He would not run away ; Oh ! it was love that gave him strength, And prayer that won the day. For now the beast began to fail, As Caesar drew his blood, Then with a howl he bounded off And fled into the wood. And Caesar to his master rushed And licked his face and hand. And dragged him forward by his coat, To make him understand 72 THE LITTLE FORESTER That danger lurked on every side — And with a ready will, They both ran forward till they won The summit of the hill. Oh ! what a pleasant view was there ! Oh ! what a joyful sight ! About a hundred yards before There shone the cottage light. Then William shouted, Caesar barked, And on they sped amain ; " Look ! Csesar, there's a home for us," And Csesar barked again. Yes — there within a wooden fence, A quiet dwelling stood, And in the fence, a wicket gate That opened to the wood. AND HIS FRIEND. ^l And soon they're through the wicket gate, And now they're at the door, And William knock'd, and knock'd again, And then he knock'd once more. " Who's there .-' who's there .■*" said one within, " Who comes so late at night .''" "A little boy lost in the wood And led here by your light. "My dog is here, he fought a wolf. Or else I should have died." " Come in, then, little boy and dog," An aged voice replied ; " Come in and welcome to my home, You shall be safe with me; Come in, poor little boy and dog. There's no wolf here, }'ou see." 74 THE LITTLE FORESTER The door unclosed, and William saw A woman bent with years ; A smile upon her kindly face At once dispelled his fears. She wore a clean blue woollen gown, And white cap closely tied ; An oaken table and a chair, Stood by a bright fire-side. A large book on the table lay, With lines and letters red, And in a corner of the room, There stood a little bed. Ranged on the shelves, against the wall, Some pewter plates did shine, The little woodman thought they were Bright silver from the mine. AND HIS FRIEND. 75 Upon the dean and glowing hearth, A grey cat sat and purred, Just winked her eyes, and twitched her ears, But not an inch she stirred. It felt so pleasant and so warm. It looked so clean and bright, That William's little heart o'erflow'd With comfort and delight. And when the kind old woman smiled, And closed and locked the door, His heart was overcome with joy, He knelt upon the floor, And raised his simple voice to God, To thank Him for the care. That saved him twice, in one short hour, And brought him safely there. 76 THE LITTLE FORESTER And then he hugged his faithful dog, And kissed him o'er and o'er, Until he saw some drops of blood Fall down upon the floor. The wolf had set his hungry teeth Deep into Caesar's side ; The sad sight went to William's heart, And bitterly he cried. " Oh ! mistress, mistress ! heal the place, I doubt my dog will die." The kind old woman raised the hair And touched it tenderly. "Don't cry, my little son," she said, He'll lick it till it's well ; Dumb beasts know how to cure the wounds They have no tongue to tell. AND HIS FRIEND. TJ " I'll make your dog as good a bed As he can well desire;" And forth she brought a warm sheepskin And laid it by the fire. *' Poor fellow ! he looks hungry too, I'll fetch him out some meat ;" And very hungry Csesar was, And ravenously eat. She poured some water in a pan, And set it on the floor, And Caesar drank, and drank, as though He'd never drank before. At last she pointed to the skin, And bid him there to keep ; He wagged his tail and shut his eyes. And licked himself to sleep. 78 THE LITTLE FORESTER "And now, my little boy," she said, " How did you lose your way ? What kept you wand 'ring in the wood Beyond the close of day ? " Where is your home — and where your friends ?" Said William, " I have none, My dog is all the friend I have, We're in the world alone." " Poor little boy ! no home — no friends — Then you shall stop with me. And you shall have some supper too, You're hungry, I can see. But let me wash your tired feet, And clean you from the mire, And hang these dripping clothes to drj^ Before our blazing fire." AND HIS FRIEND. 79 Then William could not speak a word ; The tears ran down his face, To think that God had brought him safe To such a happy place. "Why do you cry, my little son.'' What grief is on your mind .'' " I can't help crying," William said, " Because you are so kind. " I did not think an hour ago, To see the next sun rise — And now, I am so happy here !" And William wiped his eyes. " Poor little friendless boy," she said, " I'm glad to hear you speak, I'll make you happy," and she kissed The wet tears from his cheek. 80 THE LITTLE FORESTER And quick she put some milk and bread Into a shining pot, And set it in the glowing ash, To make it nice and hot. She wrapped him in a blanket warm. And laid him on her bed. And with her comfortable hand, The weary child she "fed. He'd fasted through the livelong day — No wonder then he thought This dainty meal so warm and sweet, By God's kind hand was brought. And down upon his knees he dropped. His thankful prayer to make, And begged that God would guard his sleep, For Christ, the Saviour's sake. AND HIS FRIEND. 8 1 Then to the good old dame he turned, And kissed her wrinkled cheek ; " You love me as my father did, And just Hke him you speak. ''A few days since my father died, Then I was left alone ; My brothers, they are cruel men, Their hearts are hard as stone. '• They brought me three days through the wood, A road I ne'er came by, And when I was asleep last night, They left me there to die." " Rut God has brought you here to me, My little son," she said, And I will be a friend to you Now your poor father's dead. 82 THE LITTLE FORESTER " Together we will beg the Lord To bless us every day." " My father taught me," William said, " Before he died, to pray. " He warned me from all wicked ways. He told me of his sin. And many a day he did repent, Till he had peace within. " But there was one thing worse than all. That on his conscience stood, He had a mother once like you, And left her in the wood. " I told him, when the days were long, I'd roam the forest wide. To tell her how he did repent. And love her when he died." AND HIS FRIEND. 83 The good dame trembled, and sat down, Strange thoughts ran to and fro Within her mind — was that her son Who left her long ago ? Thrice moved her lips, before her tongue This simple speech could frame — "Speak quickly — say, my little son, What was your father's name ?" '" Old Roger Hardfoot was his name" — " E'en so," the dame replied ; Thank God ! thank God ! he was my son, He loved me when he died. "And he repented of his sin, And made his peace with heaven — My child, I've prayed both night and day That he might be forgiven. 84 THE LITTLE FORESTER " And God has brought you here to me, My grandson — my dear boy." — She put her arms round William's neck, And they two wept for joy. Then William closed his heavy eyes, Without a shade of care ; But that good dame spent all the night In thanks, and praise, and prayer. And now the orphan had a home — A happy home he had ; He worked upon the little farm, And made the mother glad. She taught him how to read and spell ; Her blessed book he read, And in the holy ways of God The little lad she led. AND HIS FRIEND. 85 And Csesar, and the old grey cat, Lay by the fire-side, And happy years went steahng by. Till good old Csesar died. And then his master made his sfrave Within the garden ground, And laid his faithful friend to rest Beneath a grassy mound. A few more years stole by, and then He closed the good dame's eyes — She went to join her long-lost son Above the blessed skies. Then many months did William mourn, And lonely was his lot, Until he found a prudent wife. To bless his peaceful cot. 86 THE LITTLE FORESTER And soon along the woodland paths And in the forest bowers, The feet of little children strayed, To gather forest flowers. And oft they wandered to the stream That rushed along the vale, And never weary, asked again. The father's stirring tale. So time flew by — one summer's eve, When William's work was o'er. And with his book upon his knee. He sat before his door ; There came six weary travellers Along the forest way. Worn out they looked with want and care, With sickness and dismay. AND HIS FRIEND. 8/ Old leathern bags upon their backs As if for coats they wore, Their clothes were nought, their shoes were out, Their feet were stiff and sore. They stopped before the wicket gate And humbly begged for bread. "We are poor starving travellers, Most worthy sir," they said. " For many days we've struggled on With berries for our food. And dare not close our eyes at night, For wolves about the wood." " I understand your case right well," Said William, drawing near, " For I've been hungry in the wood, And nearly dead with fear. 88 THE LITTLE FORESTER " I was a child — a little one — Without a friend or guide — Poor Caesar ! he was sent to me When I had none beside ! " But sit you down — we never send The traveller away, For God's most hospitable hand Has fed us day by day." A start of strange astonishment, A downcast look of shame. Fell on each haggard countenance, At sound of Caesar's name. But silently they sat them down, At William's kindly word, Six guilty conscience-stricken men Upon the sunny sward. AND HIS FRIEND. 89 As soon as Bertha saw the men, She brought her biggest pot. And made a broth of good rye-meal, And served it steaming hot. Their hunger stayed, their spirits cheered, By this unlooked-for aid. The travellers once more addressed Their gen'rous host, and said, "Another boon, good sir, we crave, — That with your goats to-night We may lie down, and safely sleep, And start with morning light." " Come in," said William, — " safely sleep, You shall not go away. My barn shall be your home this night Your bed, the new-mown hay." 90 THE LITTLE FORESTER He opened wide the wicket gate, And as they passed him by, He bade them sit upon the turf, And tell their history. " To what place are you bound ?" said he ; " From what place have you come ? You look like men who've travell'd far." The travellers sat dumb. At last the oldest man spoke out, "The time is long gone by, • Since in our forest hut we lived. The woodman's craft to ply. "There fell a sad and evil day, The king was sore displeased, He burnt our dwelling to the ground. And all our goods were seized. AND HIS FRIEND. 9I "And in a dungeon damp and dark, For many years we lay; We never breathed the air of heaven, Nor saw the face of day, "And when at last the time came round, To give us liberty, Our strength was gone, we had no home. And knew not where to flee, " The ills we suffer day by day, Are more than we can bear, There's nothing left in life for us, But famine and despair." " I fear some evil deed was done," Said William, looking round ; " Good men but seldom pine for years In dungeons underground." 92 THE LITTLE FORESTER "We will not hide it, worthy sir, As we are sitting here, We did deserve our punishment — We stole the royal deer. " Long years of grief have changed us all, And we repent our sin, And wish to lead an honest life, If we could once begin ; " But we have not a single axe To fell the smallest tree, And nothing stares us in the face, But death or beggary." " Poor men !" said William — for his heart With pity strangely stirred, And long-forgotten scenes came back, As that man's voice he heard. AND HIS FRIEND. 93 " In your own country have you left No one of kin or tie ? Are you all brothers sitting there, Of one man's family ?" " We are six sons of one old man, And Hardfoot was his name ; Old Roger Hardfoot died before His children came to shame." Then William drew towards the men, And looked from each to each — " And was there not a younger son .-'" The woodmen lost their speech. — They sat there dumb and cowering down. Their sin had found them out ; Could these six trembling creatures be Those foresters so stout .-' 94 THE LITTLE FORESTER As William looked upon the men, He melted into tears; He did not know one brother's face, So changed with grief and years. Could that be ruthless Dagobert ? Now crippled, old, and lame. Wild Cerdic this .-' stern Hugo that .-* All crouching down with shame. And could that be his brother Guy ? Who made the forest ring ; And that he Sweyn } whose bushy locks Once matched the raven's wing. And that poor shivering feeble man, Could that be Boniface .'' Whose bounding foot would overtake The wild roe in the chase. AND HIS FRIEND. 95 Could these be Roger Hardfoot's sons? That lawless band of men ? "My father's sons — my brothers still," — Then William spoke again. " I was the little boy you left Out in the wood to die ; But God's kind hand protected me From that sad destiny. I found our father's mother here, She took me for her son ; And when she died, her little farm And house became my own." At William's feet his brothers fell, And no one spoke a word, But tears flowed down their haggard cheeks, And many a sob was heard. 96 THE LITTLE FORESTER " Grieve not, my brothers," William said ; At this they wept anew, " Kind Providence has brought you here, That I may care for you. *' Stand up" — but still the men lay there, They could not raise their eyes, But every heart was broken down In penitence and sighs. "We never prospered since the day We left you in the wood ; We heard a voice in every place, ' Where is your brother's blood .''' " Oh, grant us pardon for our sin. That we may look to Heaven, That ere the dreadful day of doom Our guilt may be forgiven," _ AND HIS FRIEND. 97 'Fear not," said William, "trust my word, I pardon you as free, As God, I hope, for Christ's dear sake, Will save and pardon me," The woodmen rose up from their knees, And spoke their brother's name; But when they looked upon his face, They hung their heads with shame. And William's tears flowed forth again, He could not bear their woe ; He brought them all into his house. And would not let them go. And soon they raised a woodman's hut. Commodious and warm ; A bow-shot, it might be, or more, From William's little farm. G 98 THE LITTLE FORESTER The purple heather from the moor, They gathered for their beds, And there the ancient foresters Laid down their weary heads. Few were their wants, and soon supplied- Some bowls, a drinking horn, A wooden chest, wherein to keep Their rye-meal and their corn. And Bertha, William's comely wife, Took freely from her store Of homespun coats and knitted hose. And shared them with the poor. And all the little blue-eyed maids Did spin with ready skill, And all the merry-hearted lads Did work with right good-will. AND HIS FRIEND. 99 The poor old men began to smile, As Hope began to spring, And soon within the good green wood The axe began to ring. The olden time came back again, Once more the trees came down, Once more they tied the faggots up, And bore them to the town. And honest, grateful men they grew, As William day by day. Read to them from the Holy Book, And taught them how to pray. And as they prayed, the Heavenly One Drew near to heal and save. And led them in a lowly way Unto a timely- grave. 100 THE LITTLE FORESTER And when death came, it found them meek, And ready to depart, For by God's grace they had become Men of a humble heart. But William prospered more and more, And round his aged knee, His children's children clustered thick In loving harmony. At last his sun went gently down. At golden close of day, Without a single floating cloud To dim its parting ray. The forest trees are levelled now, No wolves disturb our rest ; But still the wicked are accursed, And still the righteous blest. 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