THE BROWNIES IN THE ORCHARD._Another Brownie Book

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The autumn nights began to fill

The mind with thoughts of winter chill,

When Brownies in an orchard met,

Where ripened fruit was hanging yet.

Said one, "The apples here, indeed,

Must now be mellow to the seed;

And, ere another night, should be

Removed at once from every tree.

For any evening now may call

The frost to nip and ruin all."

Another quickly answer made:

"This man is scarcely worthy aid;

'Tis said his harsh and cruel sway

Has turned his children's love away.

"If this be true, 't would serve him right"

If frost should paint his orchard white."

"It matters not who owns the place,

Or why neglect thus shows its face,"

A third replied; "the fact is clear

That fruit should hang no longer here.

If worthy people here reside

Then will our hands be well applied;

And if unworthy folks we serve,

Still better notice we'll deserve."

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"You speak our minds so full and fair,"

One loudly cried, "that speech we'll spare.

But like the buttons on your back,

We'll follow closely in your track,

And do our part with willing hand,

Without one doubting _if_ or _and_."

Kind deeds the Brownies often do

Unknown to me as well as you;

The wounded hare, by hunters maimed,

Is sheltered and supplied and tamed.

The straying cat they sometimes find

Half-starved, and chased by dogs unkind,

And bring it home from many fears

To those who mourned its loss with tears.

And to the bird so young and bare,

With wings unfit to fan the air,

That preying owls had thought to rend

The Brownie often proves a friend.

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Then bags and baskets were brought out

From barns and buildings round about,

With kettles, pans, and wooden-ware,

That prying eyes discovered there;

Nay, even blankets from the beds,

The pillow-slips, and table-spreads

Were in some manner brought to light

To render service through the night.

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If there's a place where Brownies feel

At home with either hand or heel,

And seem from all restrictions free,

That place is in a branching tree.

At times, with balance fair and fine

They held their stations in a line;

At times, in rivalry and pride

To outer twigs they scattered wide;

And oft with one united strain

They shook the tree with might and main,

Till, swaying wildly to and fro,

It rocked upon the roots below.

So skilled at climbing were they all

The sum of accidents was small:

Some hats were crushed, some heads were sore,

Some backs were blue, ere work was o'er;

For hands will slip and feet will slide,

And boughs will break and forks divide,

And hours that promise sport sublime

May introduce a limping time.

So some who clambered up the tree

With ready use of hand and knee,

Found other ways they could descend

Than by the trunk, you may depend.

The startled birds of night came out

And watched them as they moved about;

Concluding thieves were out in force

They cawed around the place till hoarse.

But birds, like people, should be slow

To judge before the facts they know;

For neither tramps nor thieves were here,

But Brownies, honest and sincere,

Who worked like mad to strip the trees

Before they felt the morning breeze.

And well they gauged their task and time,

For ere the sun commenced to prime

The sky with faintest tinge of red

The Brownies from the orchard fled,

While all the fruit was laid with care

Beyond the reach of nipping air.

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THE BROWNIES' [Illustration] YACHT-RACE.

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When fleets of yachts were sailing round

The rippling bay and ruffled sound,

And steering out where Neptune raves,

To try their speed in rougher waves,

The Brownies from a lofty place

Looked out upon the novel race.

Said one: "A race is under way.

They'll start from somewhere in the bay,

To leave the frowning forts behind,

And Jersey headlands, as you'll find,

And sail around, as I surmise,

The light-ship that at anchor lies.

All sails are spread, the masts will bend,

For some rich prize they now contend--

A golden cup or goblet fine,

Or punch-bowl of antique design."

Another said: "To-night, when all

Have left the boats, we'll make a call,

And boldly sail a yacht or two

Around that ship, as people do.

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If I can read the signs aright

That nature shows 'twill be a night

When sails will stretch before the blast,

And not hang idly round the mast."

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So thus they talked, and plans they laid,

And waited for the evening shade.

And when the lamps in city square

And narrow street began to glare,

The Brownies ventured from their place

To find the yachts and sail their race.

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In equal numbers now the band,

Divided up, the vessels manned.

Short time they wasted in debate

Who should be captain, cook, or mate;

But it was settled at the start

That all would take an active part,

And be prepared to pull and haul

If trouble came in shape of squall.

For in the cunning Brownie crowd

No domineering is allowed;

All stand alike with equal power,

And friendly feeling rules the hour.

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The Brownies' prophecy was true.

That night the wind increased and blew,

And dipped the sails into the wave,

And work to every Brownie gave;

Not one on board but had to clew,

Or reef, or steer, or something do.

Sometimes the yachts ran side by side

A mile or more, then parted wide,

Still tacking round and shifting sail

To take advantage of the gale.

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Sometimes a sloop beyond control

At random ran, or punched a hole

Clean through her scudding rival's jibs,

Or thumped her soundly on the ribs.

Of Brownies there were two or three

Who tumbled headlong in the sea,

While they performed some action bold,

And failed to keep a proper hold.

At first it seemed they would be lost;

For here and there they pitched and tossed,

Now on the crests of billows white,

Now in the trough, clear out of sight,

But all the while with valiant heart

Performing miracles of art.

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Some life-preservers soon were thrown;

And ready hands let sails alone,

And turned to render aid with speed

To those who stood so much in need.

But accident could not displace

Or weaken interest in the race;

And soon each active Brownie stood

Where he could do the greatest good;

It mattered not if shifting sail,

Or at the helm, or on the rail.

With arm to arm and hip to hip,

They lay in rows to trim the ship.

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All hands were anxious to succeed

And prove their yachts had greatest speed.

But though we sail, or though we ride,

Or though we sleep, the moments glide;

And none must bear this fact in mind

More constantly than Brownie kind.

For stars began to lose their glow

While Brownies still had miles to go.

Said one, who scanned the eastern sky

With doubtless an experienced eye:

"We'll crowd all sail, for fear the day

Will find us still upon the bay--

Since it would prove a sad affair

If morning light should find us there."

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But when the winds began to fail

And lightly pressed the flapping sail,

It was determined by the band

To run their yachts to nearest land,

So they could reach their hiding-place

Before the sun revealed his face.

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By happy chance a cove they reached

Where high and dry the boats were beached,

And all in safety made their way

To secret haunts without delay.

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