Farm Fastivals.

Otago Witness, Issue 1582, 18 March 1882, Page 27

Farm Fastivals.

THE FESTIVAL OF ANEODOTB ; ,

i OR, AN EVENING IN THE COUNTRY

STORE.

11. ; .<■ . The grave sends fascination with its fear : We shrink and dread to see it yawning near, But when on others falls the endless spell,' - We like to talk about it mighty well ; ... And handle o'er with fear abated breath, , The gruesome, grimpwticulara'of death.' ' Never can horror so a tale unfold, But curious mortals love to hear it' told, As if they were not of the race they view, And Bubject to the same conditions, too. When the last speaker had a period found, And placed his parson safely under-ground, , Mortality of every phase and age Became at once the conversational rage ; And he was sachem of our gossip-tribe, Who had the dolefulest death-pangs to decrlbo, . Most well I recollect, of course (though least), . > My own addition to the horror-feast. I hadseen two men banged, for some red crime, Committed in drink's murder-harvest time ; By sheriff -usher through the jail-yard shown, They walked unto this funeral of their own ; Their rites wet c said by one in priesthood's guise, • Two empty coffins lay before their eyes. One scarcely yet'had left youth's pleasure-vale ; 1 (His mother waited for him near the jail.) . , ■ The other had his tutor been in crime, And sold the devil half a manhood's time. They did not flinch, when first frowned on their sight Their gallows death-bed, standing bolt-upright } But when the youngster turned and took his '

place, A cold wind brushed the noose against his face ; Then first that feigned indifference seemed to '

fail; ' Death, when it came, made not tho boy more

pale. (I saw him in the coffin, after this ; It was a face that woman-eyes would kiss.) Close to his side, notice the older pass ; Teacher and pupil, standing in one class. This rogue had learned a knack to calmly dio, ' And glanced the younger wretch a cold good-bye ; But he, unmagnetised from past control, With silent-moving lips prayed for his soul. (The black cap hid the last part of his prayer, And shut it in, but could not keep it there.) He had prayed for his body, had he known ; For while the older died without a groan, When with a ' thud ! ' tho two went bounding high, • • i He struggled, gasped, and wailed, but could not dio. , , Till the slow-gripping rope had choked him quite. And strong men fainted at the piteous sight. (I thought I told this pretty middling well) But was eclipsed by an old sea-dog swell, Anchored by age in our calm rustic bay, Who'd seen twelve Turks beheaded in one day.) Then followed accidents, by field and flood, Such as had fettered breath or loosened blood ; Fires, earthquakes, shipwrecks, and such cheerful themes, Furnished material for our future dreams. And when at last there came a little paUße (The silent horror-method of applause), A lad, with face appropriately long. Said, ' Jacob, won't you sing that little song That you sat up all t'other night to make, About the children drownded in the lake V Jacob, whose efforts none had need to urge, ' Promptly materialised the following dirge : [A DIRGE OF THE LAKE.] On the lake— on the lake— The sun the day ia tinging ; The sky's rich hue shows brightor blue Above its forest fringing. The breezes high blow far and nigh White cloudlets, like a feather ; The breezes low sweep to and fro, And wavelets race together. Up the lake — up the lake — The busy oars arc dipping ; The blades of wood that dcave the flood, With streamlets fresh are dripping-. A gracoful throng of golden song Conioa floating smoothly after ; Like silver chains, ring loud the strains Of childhood's morry laughter. By the lake- by the lake— The lilies' heads are lifting, And into night the warmth and light Of happy hours are drifting. The bright suu-niys upon thorn gaze, In pity uiias'ailinjr ; With laughing cy«s, between two allies They for the g-ravn are sailing. In the lake— in the Ukc — The bar>;e ia sinking steady ; A startled hush, a frantic rush — The feast of Death i« roady I A pleading cry, i\ faint reply,

* ' Farm Festivals,' by Will Carh-ton, author •Faun Biiliad*,' '!>'.. mi L'.fceHiJa,' &v. Baitontyn.9 gauson, and' Co., Edinburgh and Ltontfon.

■ „ A frtnried, brave endeavourAnd o'er them deep the wavelets creep, And smile as sweet as ever. 'Neath the lake-'neath the lakeThe wearied forms are lying ; They deep away their gala-day— Too fair a day for dying! With hands that grasped, and nothing clasped, With terror-frozen faces, .' In slimy caves and gloomy graves, They nestle to their places. From the lake— from the lakeThey one by one are creeping ; Their very rest is grief-possessed, , And piteous looks their sleeping. Upon no face is any trace ' ' X)f sickness' friendly warning, But sad they lie 'neath even-sky, 1 Who were so gay at morning t ', O'er the lake— o'er the lake— * A sceptre' bark is sailing ; 'There is no cry of danger nigh, ■< There ia no soHnd of wailing. They who have died gase from its Bide— , ■ Their spirit-faces glowing ; For through the skies the lile-boat pließ, ' And angel hands are rowing. 111. There wss among our various-tempered crowd, A graduate ; who, having last year ploughed The "utmost furrow of scholastic lore, Now 1 hoarded with his father, as before. BiH course was hard, but he had mastered all : Aquatics, bill ards, flirting, and base-ball ; Arid 1 now once more to rural science turned, Waß;leisurely unlearning what he'd learned. , The death-theme made him sad and seriouß-eyed, Aboutft'college comrade who had died ; And with a sudden, strong sigh-lengthened breath, He gave this boyish paragraph of death :

[THE DEAD STUDENT.] Twaa mighty slow to make it seem as it poor Brown ( WMdead: "Twaa^raly just the day he died, he had to take Mb bed; ' ' the day) before, he played first-base, and ran M'Far-

linddown; ■ , „ And Jhen to slip away ao sly— 'twas not at all ,hke Brown.' ' •Iwati'hard for my own life to leave that fellow's life

behind: •TlB work, sometimes, 1 to get a man well laid out in

your mind ; . , „ , „ It wouldn't have shook me very much, long after all was o'er, To WA a whoop, and see the man go rushing past my door ! Poor itrown.!— so white and newly still within his room I called' upon him, as it were, at noon the second day. A-ruaMng'into Brownie's room seemed awkward-like, arid queer; We hadn't sp- ken back and forth for something like a

year, We never pulled together square a single night, or Whateter direction I- might start, Brown went the (Excepting in 'bur love affairs; we picked a dozen Abotif a^iri Smith tried to get, who fltflly married Jones.) He worked against me in our class, before my very

He opened up and scooped me square out of the Junior prize ; . v^ ■ I never wanted any place, clean from the last to first, But Brown was aura to have »■ friend who wanted ie

the wont; In the last campus rush, we came to strictly business blows. And with the eye he left undimmed, I viewed his

damaged nose ;■ ' In short, I came at last to feel— l own it with dismayThat lite would be worth living for, if Brown were out

the way. He lay within his dingy room, as white as drifted

snow— Things all around- .were wondrous neat— the women fixed them bo ; Twaa plain he had no hand in that, and naught about it knew ; To 'ye seen the' order lying round, it would have made him blue !

c , iA bright bouquet of girlish flowers smiled on the scene

of death, Ani through the open window came a sweet geranium breath; CloßefCaged, a small canary-bird, with glossy, yellow throat, Tripped drearily from perch to perch, and never sung a note ; ■

With' hair unusually combed, sat poor M'Farlane

near, Alternately perusing" Greek, and wrestling with a tear ; ' A homely little girl of six, for some old kindness*

sake, Sat sobbing In a corner near, as if her heart would

break ; The books looked palo and wretched-like, almost as if

they knew, And seemed to be a-wbispering their titles to the

view; His rod and gun were in their place ; and high where

all could see, Gleamed jauntily the boating-cup he won last year

from me ; I lifted up the solemn sheet ; the honest, manly free Had signs of study and ot toil that death could iiot

erase; As western, skies at twilight mark' where late the sun ' has been, Brown's face showed yot the mind and soul that late

had burned within. He looked bo grandly helpless there upon that lonely

bed— Ah me ! these manly foes are foes no more when they

are dead 1 «Old boy, 1 said I, "twas half my fault; this heart makes late amend. I grasped the white cold hand in mine— and Brown and I'were friends.