* * * * *
What does the brook say, flashing its feet
Under the lilies' blue brimming bowls,
Brightening the shades with its tender song,
Cheering all drooping and sorrowful souls?
It says not, "Be merry," but deep in the wood
Rings back, "Little maiden, be good, be good."
What does the wind say, pushing slow sails
Over the great troubled path of the sea;
Whirling the mill on the breezy height,
Shaking the fruit from the orchard tree?
It breathes not "Be happy," but sings loud and long,
"O bright little maiden, be strong, be strong."
What says the river, gliding along
To its home on far-off Ocean's breast;
Fretted by rushes, hindered by bars,
Ever weary, but singing of rest?
It says not, "Be bright," but in whisperings grave,
"Dear little maiden, be patient, be brave."
What do the stars say, keeping their watch
Over the slumbers the long lone night,
Never closing their bonnie bright eyes,
Though great storms blind them, and tempests fright?
They say not, "Be splendid," but write on the blue,
In clear silver letters, "Maiden, be true."
* * * * *
What a rainy time we have had, to be sure, children! I thought about my
little correspondents as the floods fell day after day, and I wondered
how those who have long, long walks to school contrived to get there
when the bridges were down, and the great trees were torn up by the
roots, and the paths, usually dry, were all covered with water.
Some years ago a friend of mine, waking up one morning, was saluted by
her cook with the news that the kitchen floor was so wet that she could
not prepare the breakfast. The water came over the poor woman's rubber
shoes. My friend thought she could manage to boil a cup of coffee and
make toast by the fire in the parlor; but later in the day Joe and
Frank, her sons, found it great fun to march about the wet kitchen on
stilts. They made the fire in the range, and, under Mary's directions,
produced omelet, broiled steak, and other things, so that the family did
not starve during the rainy day.
If any of you have met with adventures during the freshet, I shall
expect to hear all about them.
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