in the human individual are bewildering, even appalling!—Now
I must go to my study, and think out a thing that’s
bothering me!—By the way,”—he
always said that when he was going to make her a certain
kind of present; she knew what was coming—“here’s
something for you—if you can read it!
I had just scribbled it this morning when the young
man came up. I made it last night. I was
hours awake after we went to bed!”
This is what he gave her:—
A SONG IN THE NIGHT.
A brown bird sang on a blossomy tree,
Sang in the moonshine, merrily,
Three little songs, one, two, and three,
A song for his wife, for himself, and me.
He sang for his wife, sang low, sang high,
Filling the moonlight that filled the sky,
“Thee, thee, I love thee, heart alive!
Thee, thee, thee, and thy round eggs five!”
He sang to himself, “What shall I do
With this life that thrills me through and through!
Glad is so glad that it turns to ache!
Out with it, song, or my heart will break!”
He sang to me, “Man, do not fear
Though the moon goes down, and the dark is near;
Listen my song, and rest thine eyes;
Let the moon go down that the sun may rise!”
I folded me up in the heart of his tune,
And fell asleep in the sinking moon;
I woke with the day’s first golden gleam,
And lo, I had dreamed a precious dream!
RICHARD AND ALICE.
One evening Richard went to see his grandfather, and
asked if he would allow him to give Miss Wylder a
lesson in horseshoeing: she wanted, he said,
to be able to shoe Miss Brown—or indeed
any horse. Simon laughed heartily at the proposal:
it was too great an absurdity to admit of serious
objection!
“Ah, you don’t know Miss Wylder, grandfather!”
said Richard.
“Of course not! Never an old man knew anything
about a girl! It’s only the young fellows
can fathom a woman! Having girls of his own blinds
a man to the nature of them! There’s going
to be a law passed against growing old! It’s
an unfortunate habit the world’s got into somehow,
and the young fellows are going to put a stop to it
for fear of losing their wisdom!”
As the blacksmith spoke, he went on rasping and filing
at a house-door key, fast in a vice on his bench;
and his words seemed to Richard to fall from his mouth
like the raspings from his rasp.
“Well, grandfather,” said Richard, “if
Miss Wylder don’t astonish you, she’ll
astonish me!”
“Have you ever seen her drive a nail, boy?”
“Not once; but I am just as sure she will do
it—and better than any beginner you’ve
seen yet!”
“Well, well, lad! we’ll see! we’ll
see! She’s welcome anyhow to come and have
her try! What day shall it be?”
“That I can’t tell yet.”
“It makes me grin to think o’ them doll’s
hands with a great hoof in them!”
