lodge. Hovering above it was a great bird, whose wings seemed blown by
a strong wind, and while Go-hay continued to sing, it flew down to the
lodge and folding Gau-wi-di-ne to its breast, slowly winged away to
the north, and when the Sun lifted its head in the east it beheld the
bird disappearing behind the far-away sky. The Sun glanced down where
Gau-wi-di-ne had built his lodge, whose fire had burned but could not
warm, and a bed of young blossoms lifted their heads to the touch of
its beams.
Where the wood and the corn and the dried meat and fish had been
heaped, a young tree was leafing, and a blue bird was trying its wings
for a nest. And the great ice mountain had melted to a swift running
river which sped through the valley bearing its message of the
springtime.
Gau-wi-di-ne had passed his time, and Go-hay reigned over the earth!
NAMING THE WINDS
(Indian Legend)
Ga-oh the great master of the winds decided to choose his helpers from
the animals of the earth. He blew a strong blast that shook the rocks
and hills and when his reverberating call had ceased its thunderous
echoes he opened the north gate wide across the sky and called
Ya-o-gah, the Bear.
Lumbering over the mountains as he pushed them from his path,
Ya-o-gah, the bulky bear, who had battled the boisterous winds as he
came, took his place at Ga-oh's gate and waited the mission of his
call. Said Ga-oh, "Ya-o-gah, you are strong; you can freeze the waters
with your cold breath; in your broad arms you can carry the wild
tempests, and clasp the whole earth when I bid you destroy. I will
place you in my far North, there to watch the herd of my winter winds
when I loose them in the sky. You shall be North Wind. Enter your
home." And the bear lowered his head for the leash with which Ga-oh
bound him, and submissively took his place in the north sky.
In a gentler voice Ga-oh called Ne-o-ga, the Fawn, and a soft breeze
as of the summer crept over the sky; the air grew fragrant with the
odour of flowers, and there were voices as of babbling brooks telling
the secrets of the summer to the tune of birds, as Ne-o-ga came
proudly lifting her head.
Said Ga-oh, "You walk with the summer sun, and know all its paths; you
are gentle, and kind as the sunbeam, and will rule my flock of the
summer winds in peace. You shall be the South Wind. Bend your head
while I leash you to the sky, for you are swift, and might return from
me to the earth." And the gentle Fawn followed Ga-oh to his great gate
which opens the south sky.
Again Ga-oh trumpeted a shrill blast, and all the sky seemed
threatening; an ugly darkness crept into the clouds that sent them
whirling in circles of confusion. A quarrelsome, shrieking voice
snarled through the air, and with a sound as of great claws tearing
the heavens into rifts, Da-jo-ji, the Panther, sprang to the gate.
Said Ga-oh, "You are ugly, and fierce, and can fight the strong
storms; you can climb the high mountains, and tear down the forests;
you can carry the whirlwind on your strong back, and toss the great
sea waves high in the air, and snarl at the tempests if they stray
from my gate. You shall be the West Wind. Go to the west sky, where
even the Sun will hurry to hide when you howl your warning to the
night." And Da-jo-ji, dragging his leash as he stealthily crept along,
followed Ga-oh to the furthermost west sky.
Yet Ga-oh rested not. The earth was flat, and in each of its four
corners he must have an assistant. One corner yet remained, and again
Ga-oh's strong blast shook the earth. And there arose a moan like the
calling of a lost mate; the sky shivered in a cold rain; the whole
earth clouded in mist; a crackling sound as of great horns crashing
through the forest trees dinned the air, and O-yan-do-ne, the Moose,
stood stamping his hoofs at the gate.
Said Ga-oh, as he strung a strong leash around his neck, "Your breath
blows the mist, and can lead the cold rains; your horns spread wide,
and can push back the forests to widen the path for my storms as with
your swift hoofs you race with my winds. You shall be the East Wind,
and blow your breath to chill the young clouds as they float through
the sky." Said Ga-oh as he led him to the east sky, "Here you shall
dwell forevermore."
Thus, with his assistants, does Ga-oh control his storms. And although
he must ever remain in his sky lodge, his will is supreme, and his
faithful assistants will obey!
NORTH WIND'S FROLIC
In a large, airy castle on the borders of a country far away, lived
the King of the Winds with his four children, North Wind, South Wind,
East Wind, and West Wind. They were a happy family, for the four
children were always making merry with the old Wind King.
North Wind, however, was a boisterous fellow, forever causing disorder
even in their play.
One summer day North Wind said that he was going out of the castle for
a frolic.
"Go," called out the King, "but be careful, North Wind, what you do.
Your pranks are all very well while you are in the castle here, but
out in the world they may do great harm."
"Woo--oo--oo----," was all the King heard in answer, and away
blustered North Wind out of the castle to the garden near by.
The roses and lilies were just in bloom, and the ripe peaches hung on
the trees ready to be picked.
"Woo--oo--oo----," cried the North Wind in his loudest voice, and in a
moment the rose petals were scattered all over the ground, the lilies
were broken from their stems, and the ripe peaches dropped down right
into the mud.
In the fields he caused even greater damage. He broke the wheat stems,
threw the unripe apples about. He tore the leaves from their branches
and tossed them about in the air in all directions. Indeed, one old
tree he completely uprooted.
The people could stand it no longer. They went to the King of the
Winds, who, in his castle had control over the coming and going of all
the Winds, and told him what the wicked North Wind had done and how
the garden and fields had suffered from the misery he had caused them.
"I will summon North Wind," said his father. "He shall answer for all
this."
When North Wind appeared, the King repeated what the people had said.
"Is this true, North Wind?" he asked.
North Wind could not deny it, for the devastated garden and fields lay
before every one's eyes.
"Why did you do it?" asked the King.
"Oh," answered North Wind, "I didn't mean it wickedly. I wanted to
play with the roses and the lilies and the peaches--and all the rest.
I didn't think I would do them any harm."
"I see," said the King. "If you are such a clumsy fellow, then I do
not dare to let you out for a frolic again. I must keep you a prisoner
in the castle the whole summer. In the winter, when there are no more
flowers and fruit, you may go out and be as boisterous as you like. I
see you are fit only for the time of ice and snow and not for flowers
and fruit."
THE MONTHS: A PAGEANT
Christina Rossetti
_Boys_
January
March
July
August
October
December
_Girls_
February
April
May
June
September
November
Robin Redbreast; Lambs and Sheep; Nightingale and Nestlings;
various Flowers, Fruits, etc.
SCENE:--_A Cottage with its grounds._
(_A room in a large comfortable cottage; a fire burning on the hearth;
a table on which the breakfast things have been left standing. JANUARY
discovered seated by the fire._)
JANUARY
Cold the day and cold the drifted snow,
Dim the day until the cold dark night.
(_Stirs the fire_)
Crackle, sparkle, faggot; embers glow:
Some one may be plodding through the snow
Longing for a light,
For the light that you and I can show.
If no one else should come,
Here Robin Redbreast's welcome to a crumb,
And never troublesome:
Robin, why don't you come and fetch your crumb?
Here's butter for my hunch of bread,
And sugar for your crumb;
Here's room upon the hearthrug,
If you'll only come.
In your scarlet waistcoat,
With your keen bright eye,
Where are you loitering?
Wings were made to fly!
Make haste to breakfast,
Come and fetch your crumb,
For I'm as glad to see you
As you are glad to come.
(_Two Robin Redbreasts are seen tapping with their beaks at the
lattice, which JANUARY opens. The birds flutter in, hop about the
floor, and peck up the crumbs and sugar thrown to them. They have
scarcely finished their meal when a knock is heard at the door.
JANUARY hangs a guard in front of the fire, and opens to FEBRUARY, who
appears with a bunch of snowdrops in her hand._)
Good-morrow, sister.
FEBRUARY
Brother, joy to you!
I've brought some snowdrops; only just a few,
But quite enough to prove the world awake,
Cheerful and hopeful in the frosty dew
And for the pale sun's sake.
(_She hands a few of her snowdrops to JANUARY, who retires into the
background. While FEBRUARY stands arranging the remaining snowdrops in
a glass of water on the window-sill, a soft butting and bleating are
heard outside. She opens the door, and sees one foremost lamb with
other sheep and lambs bleating and crowding towards her._)
O you, you little wonder, come--come in,
You wonderful, you woolly soft white lamb:
You panting mother ewe, come too,
And lead that tottering twin
Safe in:
Bring all your bleating kith and kin,
Except the horny ram.
(_FEBRUARY opens a second door in the background, and the little flock
files through into a warm and sheltered compartment out of sight._)
The lambkin tottering in its walk
With just a fleece to wear;
The snowdrop drooping on its stalk
So slender,--
Snowdrop and lamb, a pretty pair,
Braving the cold for our delight,
Both white
Both tender.
(_A rattling of doors and windows; branches seen without, tossing
violently to and fro._)
How the doors rattle, and the branches sway!
Here brother March comes whirling on his way
With winds that eddy and sing:--
(_She turns the handle of the door, which bursts open, and discloses
MARCH hastening up, both hands full of violets and anemones._)
Come, show me what you bring;
For I have said my say, fulfilled my day,
And must away.
MARCH
(_Stopping short on the threshold_)
I blow an arouse
Through the world's wide house
To quicken the torpid earth;
Grappling I fling
Each feeble thing,
But bring strong life to the birth.
I wrestle and frown,
And topple down;
I wrench, I rend, I uproot;
Yet the violet
Is born where I set
The sole of my flying foot.
(_Hands violet and anemones to FEBRUARY, who retires into the
background._)
And in my wake
Frail wind-flowers quake,
And the catkins promise fruit.
I drive ocean ashore
With rush and roar,
And he cannot say me nay:
My harpstrings all
Are the forests tall,
Making music when I play.
(_Before MARCH has done speaking, a voice is heard approaching
accompanied by a twittering of birds. APRIL comes along singing, and
stands outside and out of sight to finish her song._)
APRIL
(_Outside_)
Pretty little three
Sparrows in a tree,
Light upon the wing;
Though you cannot sing
You can chirp of Spring:
Chirp of Spring to me,
Sparrows, from your tree.
Never mind the showers,
Chirp about the flowers
While you build a nest:
Straws from east and west,
Feathers from your breast,
Make the snuggest bowers
In a world of flowers.
(_Appearing at the open door_)
Good-morrow and good-bye: if others fly,
Of all the flying months you're the most flying.
MARCH
You're hope and sweetness, April.
APRIL
I've a rainbow in my showers
And a lapful of flowers,
And these dear nestlings aged three hours;
And here's their mother sitting;
Their father's merely flitting
To find their breakfast somewhere in my bowers.
(_As she speaks APRIL shows MARCH her apron full of flowers and nest
full of birds. MARCH wanders away into the grounds. APRIL, without
entering the cottage, hangs over the hungry nestlings watching them.
MAY arrives unperceived by APRIL, and gives her a kiss. APRIL starts
and looks round._)
Ah, May, good-morrow, May, and so good-bye.
MAY
That's just your way, sweet April, smile and sigh:
Your sorrow's half in fun,
Begun and done
And turned to joy while twenty seconds run.
I've gathered flowers all as I came along,
At every step a flower
Fed by your last bright shower,--
(_She divides an armful of all sorts of flowers with APRIL, who
strolls away through the garden._)
And gathering flowers I listened to the song
Of every bird in bower.
Here are my buds of lily and rose,
And here's my namesake blossom may;
And from a watery spot
See here forget-me-not,
With all that blows
To-day.
(_JUNE appears at the further end of the garden, coming slowly
towards MAY, who, seeing her, exclaims:_)
Surely you're come too early, sister June.
JUNE
Indeed I feel as if I came too soon
To round your young May moon
And set the world a-gasping at my noon.
Yet come I must. So here are strawberries
Sun-flushed and sweet, as many as you please;
And here are full-blown roses by the score,
More roses, and yet more.
(_MAY, eating strawberries, withdraws among the flower beds. JUNE
seats herself in the shadow of a laburnum._)
Or if I'm lulled by note of bird and bee,
Or lulled by noontide's silence deep,
I need but nestle down beneath my tree
And drop asleep.
(_JUNE falls asleep; and is not awakened by the voice of JULY, who,
behind the scenes, is heard, half singing, half calling._)
JULY
(_Behind the scenes_)
Blue flags, yellow flags, flags all freckled,
Which will you take? yellow, blue, speckled!
Take which you will, speckled, blue, yellow,
Each in its way has not a fellow.
(_Enter JULY, a basket of many-coloured irises slung upon his
shoulders, a bunch of ripe grass in one hand, and a plate piled full
of peaches balanced upon the other. He steals up to JUNE, and tickles
her with the grass. She wakes._)
JUNE
What, here already?
JULY
Nay, my tryst is kept;
The longest day slipped by you while you slept.
I've brought you one curved pyramid of bloom,
(_Hands her the plate_)
Not flowers but peaches, gathered where the bees,
As downy, bask and boom
In sunshine and in gloom of trees.
But get you in, a storm is at my heels;
The whirlwind whistles and wheels,
Lightning flashes and thunder peals,
Flying and following hard upon my heels.
(_JUNE takes shelter in a thickly-woven arbour_)
The roar of a storm sweeps up
From the east to the lurid west,
The darkening sky, like a cup,
Is filled with rain to the brink;
The sky is purple and fire,
Blackness and noise and unrest;
The earth, parched with desire
Opens her mouth to drink.
Have done with thunder and fire,
O sky with the rainbow crest;
O earth, have done with desire,
Drink, and drink deep, and rest.
(_Enter AUGUST, carrying a sheaf made up of different kinds of
grain._)
Hail, brother August, flushed and warm
And scathless from my storm,
Your hands are full of corn, I see,
As full as hands can be:
And earth and air both smell as sweet as balm
In their recovered calm,
And that they owe to me.
(_JULY retires into a shrubbery_)
AUGUST
Wheat sways heavy, oats are airy,
Barley bows a graceful head,
Short and small shoots up canary,
Each of these is some one's bread;
Bread for man or bread for beast,
Or, at very least,
A bird's savoury feast.
(_AUGUST descries SEPTEMBER toiling across the lawn_)
My harvest home is ended; and I spy
September drawing nigh,
With the first thought of Autumn in her eye,
And the first sigh
Of Autumn wind among her locks that fly.
(_SEPTEMBER arrives, carrying upon her head a basket heaped high with
fruit_)
SEPTEMBER
Unload me, brother. I have brought a few
Plums and these pears for you,
A dozen kinds of apples, one or two
Melons, some figs all bursting through
Their skins, and pearled with dew
These damsons violet-blue.
(_While SEPTEMBER is speaking, AUGUST lifts the basket to the ground,
selects various fruits, and withdraws slowly along the gravel walk,
eating a pear as he goes._)
My song is half a sigh
Because my green leaves die;
Sweet are my fruits, but all my leaves are dying;
And well may Autumn sigh,
And well may I
Who watch the sere leaves flying.
(_OCTOBER enters briskly, some leafy twigs bearing different sorts of
nuts in one hand, and a long ripe hop-bine trailing after him from the
other. A dahlia is stuck in his buttonhole._)
OCTOBER
Nay, cheer up, sister. Life is not quite over,
Even if the year has done with corn and clover,
With flowers and leaves; besides, in fact, it's true
Some leaves remain and some flowers too.
For me and you.
Now see my crops:
(_Offering his produce to SEPTEMBER_)
I've brought you nuts and hops;
And when the leaf drops, why, the walnut drops.
(_OCTOBER wreathes the hop-bine about SEPTEMBER'S neck, and gives her
the nut twigs. They enter the cottage together, but without shutting
the door. She steps into the background; he advances to the hearth,
removes the guard, stirs up the smouldering fire, and arranges several
chestnuts ready to roast._)
Crack your first nut and light your first fire,
Roast your first chestnut crisp on the bar;
Make the logs sparkle, stir the blaze higher,
Logs are cheery as sun or as star,
Logs we can find wherever we are.
Spring one soft day will open the leaves,
Spring one bright day will lure back the flowers;
Never fancy my whistling wind grieves,
Never fancy I've tears in my showers:
Dance, nights and days! and dance on, my hours!
(_Sees NOVEMBER approaching_)
Here comes my youngest sister, looking dim
And grim
With dismal ways.
What cheer, November?
NOVEMBER
(_Entering and shutting the door_)
Nought have I to bring,
Tramping a-chill and shivering,
Except these pine cones for a blaze,--
Except a fog which follows,
And stuffs up all the hollows,--
Except a hoar frost here and there,--
Except some shooting stars
Which dart their luminous cars
Trackless and noiseless through the keen night air.
(_OCTOBER, shrugging his shoulders, withdraws into the background,
while NOVEMBER throws her pine cones on the fire, and sits down
listlessly._)
The earth lies asleep, grown tired
Of all that's high or deep;
There's nought desired and nought required
Save a sleep.
I rock the cradle of the earth,
I lull her with a sigh;
And know that she will wake to mirth
By and by.
(_Through the window DECEMBER is seen running and leaping in the
direction of the door. He knocks._)
Ah, here's my youngest brother come at last:
(_Calls out without rising._)
Come in, December.
(_He opens the door and enters, loaded with evergreens in berry,
etc._)
Come, and shut the door,
For now it's snowing fast;
It snows, and will snow more and more;
Don't let it drift in on the floor.
But you, you're all aglow; how can you be
Rosy and warm and smiling in the cold?
DECEMBER
Nay, no closed doors for me,
But open doors and open hearts and glee
To welcome young and old.
Dimmest and brightest month am I;
My short days end, my lengthening days begin;
What matters more or less sun in the sky,
When all is sun within?
(_He begins making a wreath as he sings_)
Ivy and privet dark as night,
I weave with hips and haws a cheerful show,
And holly for a beauty and delight,
And milky mistletoe.
While high above them all I set
Yew twigs and Christmas roses pure and pale;
Then Spring her snowdrop and her violet
May keep, so sweet and frail;
May keep each merry singing bird,
Of all her happy birds that singing build:
For I've a carol which some shepherds heard
Once in a wintry field.
(_While DECEMBER concludes his song all the other Months troop in from
the garden, or advance out of the background. The Twelve join hands in
a circle, and begin dancing round to a stately measure as the curtain
falls._)
(_Abridged._)
PRINCE WINTER
Carl Ewald
The Prince of Winter sat on the mountains: an old man with white hair
and beard. His naked breast was shaggy, shaggy his legs and hands. He
looked strong and wild with cold stern eyes.
But he was not angry as when Spring drove him from the valley and when
Autumn did not go quickly enough. He looked out over the kingdom
calmly for he knew that it was his. And, when he found anything dead
or empty or desolate, he plucked at his great white beard and gave a
harsh and satisfied laugh.
But all that lived in the land was struck with terror when it looked
into his cold eyes.
The trees shook in their thick bark, and the bushes struck their
branches together in consternation. The mouse became quite
snow-blind, when she peeped outside the door; the stag looked
mournfully over the white meadow.
"My muzzle can still break thro' the ice, when I drink," he said. "I
can still scrape the snow to one side and find a tuft of grass. But,
if things go on like this for another week, then it's all up with me."
The crow and the chaffinch and the sparrow and the tit had quite lost
their voices. They thought of the other birds, who had departed in
time, and they who remained knew not where to turn in their distress.
At last they set out in a row to carry their humble greeting to the
new lord of the land.
"Here come your birds, O mightiest of all Princes!" said the crow and
stood and marked time in the white snow. "The others left the country
as soon as you announced your coming, but we have remained to submit
us to your sway. Now be a gracious lord to us and grant us food."
"We bow before Your Highness!" said the chaffinch.
"We have so longed for you," said the tit, and he put his head on one
side.
And the sparrow said the same as the others, in a tone of deep
respect.
But the Prince of Winter laughed at them disdainfully.
"Ha, you time-serving birds! In Summer's time you amused yourselves
merrily, in Autumn's, you ate yourselves stout and fat; and as soon as
Spring strikes up you will dance to his piping like the others. I hate
you and your screaming and squalling and the trees you hop about in.
You are all here to defy me and I shall do for you if I can." Then he
rose in all his strength.
"I have my own birds and now you shall see them."
He clapped his hands and sang:
"Wee snow-birds, white snow-birds,
White snow-birds, wee snow-birds,
Through fields skim along!
To jubilant Spring I grudge music of no birds,
To Summer, no song.
"Come, Winter's mute messengers,
Swift birds and slow birds,
White snow-birds, wee snow-birds,
Till the valley be soft as down for your nestling
Of numberless ice-eggs by frosty rims spanned!
Now rushing, now resting,
White snow-birds, wee snow-birds,
Skim soft thro' the land!"
And Winter's birds came.
Suddenly, it darkened, and the air became full of little black specks,
which descended and turned into great white snow-flakes.
They fell over the ground in an endless multitude. There was now not a
blade of grass, nor yet a stone to be seen: everything was smooth and
soft and white. Only the trees stood out high in the air and the river
flowed black thro' the meadow.
"I know how to crush you," said the Prince of Winter.
And, when evening came, he told the wind to go down. Then the waves
became small and still, Winter stared at them with his cold eyes, and
the ice built its bridge from bank to bank. In vain the waves tried to
hum Spring's song. There was no strength in their voices.
Next morning there was nothing left to the river but a narrow channel;
and, when one more night had passed, the bridge was finished. Again
the Prince of Winter called for his white birds; and soon the carpet
was drawn over the river till it was no longer possible to see where
land began or water ended.
But the trees stood boldly out of the deep snow, the firs had kept all
their leaves and were so green that it was quite shocking to behold.
Wherever they stood, they were a protection against the frost and a
shelter against the snow; and the chaffinch and the other small birds
found refuge under their roofs.
The Prince of Winter looked at them angrily.
"If I could but break you!" he said. "You stand in the midst of my
kingdom keeping guard for Summer and you give shelter to the birds
who disturb the peace of my land. If only I had snow enough to bury
you!"
But the trees stood strong under Winter's wrath and waved their long
branches.
"You have taken from us what you can," they said. "Farther than that
you cannot go. We will wait calmly for better times."
When they had said this Winter suddenly set eyes upon tiny little buds
round about the twigs. He saw the little brown mice trip out for a run
in the snow and disappear again into their snug parlours before his
eyes. He heard the hedgehog snoring in the hedge; and the crows kept
on screaming in his ears. Through his own ice he saw the noses of the
frogs stick up from the bottom of the pond.
"Am I the master or not?" he shouted. He tore at his beard with both
hands.