The Brownies' Friendly Turn

One night while snow was lying deep On level plain and mountain steep, A sheltered nook the Brownies found, Where conversation might go 'round. Said one: "The people hereabout Their wood supply have taken out; But while they stripped the timber lot, The village parson they forgot.

Now that good man, the story goes, As best he can, must warm his toes." Another spoke: "The way is clear To show both skill and courage here. You're not the sort, I know, to shirk: And coward-like to flee from work. You act at once whene'er you find A chance to render service kind, Nor wait to see what others do In matters that appeal to you.

"This task in waiting must be done Before another day has run. The signs of change are in the air; A storm is near though skies are fair; As oft when smiles the broadest lie, The tears are nearest to the eye. To work let every Brownie bend, And prove to-night the parson's friend. We'll not take oxen from the stall, That through the day must pull and haul, Nor horses from the manger lead; But let them take the rest they need. Since mystic power is at our call, By our own selves we'll do it all. Our willing arms shall take the place Of clanking chain and leathern trace, And 'round the door the wood we'll strew Until we hide the house from view."

At once the Brownies sought the ground Where fuel could with ease be found,— A place where forest-fires had spread, And left the timber scorched and dead. And there throughout the chilly night They tugged and tore with all their might; Some bearing branches as their load; With lengthy poles still others strode,

Or struggled till they scarce could see, With logs that bent them like a V; While more from under drifts of snow Removed old trees, and made them go Like plows along the icy street, With half their limbs and roots complete. Some found it hard to train their log To keep its place through jolt and jog, While some, mistaking ditch for road, Were almost buried with their load, And but for friends and promptest care, The morning light had found them there.

The wind that night was cold and keen, And frosted Brownies oft were seen. They clapped their hands and stamped their toes, They rubbed with snow each numbing nose, And drew the frost from every face Before it proved a painful case.

And thus, in spite of every ill, The task was carried forward still. Some were by nature well designed For work of this laborious kind, And never felt so truly great, As when half crushed beneath a weight. While wondering comrades stood aghast, And thought each step must be the last.

But some were slight and ill could bear The heavy loads that proved their share,