THE CHRISTENING.
“Halloa, Uncle Isaac!” shouted Joe from the house-top, “this ridge-pole
won’t fit; you didn’t make it right.”
“Yes, I did. I never made a bad joint in my life.”
“Well, it won’t fit, anyhow. Master Hunt says ’twont.”
“O, if I could only get a little spirit to rub on it,” said Uncle
Isaac, in great perplexity, “I’ll bet ’twould fit; but I’m sure I don’t
know how I can get it on this island.”
“There’s some aboard the schooner,” said John Strout; and, as it was
passed up the frame, Joe announced that the ridge-pole fitted first
rate.
“Now, boys, the frame is up, and must be named. Who shall name it?”
“Seth Warren,” was the cry; “he got up the scrape.” Seth, all at
once, became extremely diffident, and required as much urging as a
distinguished man at Commencement dinner, but finally was prevailed
upon, at a great sacrifice of his own feelings, to gratify his friends.
With a bottle of rum in his right hand, and astride the ridge-pole, he
gave vent to the following effusion:--
Here, in the woods, yet out at sea,
Where robins sing amid the surf,
Where ivy clasps the moss-grown tree,
And flowers are breaking from the turf,--
We’ve reared, where house ne’er stood before,
Nor reaper bound the swelling grain,
A dwelling-place, amid the roar
Of waves, that break to break again.
Good luck to those who here shall live,
Prosperity their path attend,
With every blessing Heaven can give--
Health, competence, till life shall end.
To them its wealth may ocean yield,
The herds their milky tribute pour;
Rich harvests crown the fertile field,
A bouncing baby grace the floor.
So strong a man ne’er held a plough,
A seaman tried, a shipmate true;
So sweet a girl ne’er milked a cow,
Or bleached her linen in the dew.
This goodly house yet lacks a name;
Good people all, I pray you tell,
How I most worthily the same,
This afternoon, may christen well.
We’ll not forget, where’er we roam,
When thirty-five young stalwart men,
And Uncle Isaac, reared the home
Of old Elm Island’s Lion Ben.
I name it, then, the “Lion’s Den;”
When we are dead these walls shall last,
To tell of times when men were men,
And keep the record of the past;--
When worth, not wealth, won woman’s heart,
While she her lighter burden bore;
At wheel and loom performed her part,
And added to the common store.
As he concluded, he dashed the bottle on the ridge-pole, and flung the
neck high in the air. Seth was frequently interrupted with applause;
but, when he finished, there was a complete storm of cheers.
“I call that the cap-sheaf,” said Uncle Isaac; “there’s some chaw to
that; it’s raal sentimental; none of your low blackguard stuff, such as
they generally have to raisin’s. I think we ought all join together,
and get Squire Linscott, the town clark, to copy them are varses, and
buy a gilded frame, and have ’em hung over Ben’s fireplace; then our
grandchildren will know about it, for we haven’t done anything on this
island we’re ashamed of, and don’t mean to.”
It was universally agreed that after such an effort a man must be
thirsty; and a large pail of milk punch appeared from the schooner.
Seth, as the poet of the day, received the first draught; then Uncle
Isaac and Master Hunt, and so it went round.
“It is not near night yet,” said Seth, who was greatly pleased with his
successful effort; “what do you say for boarding the roof and ends?
there is such a swarm of us that we can do it in less than an hour.”
“I think we have done enough,” said Uncle Isaac; “but I’m in for it if
you are.”
They accordingly boarded the roof and the ends.
“Now,” said Seth, “for some fun.”
The chips were all cleared out of the house, and the floor swept with
spruce boughs; it made a noble hall; not a thing in it, and almost
square. Uncle Isaac, rolling a log in front of the house, sat down to
smoke, contemplating his workmanship with the greatest complacency.
His thoughts were also occupied in preparing for the morrow. He was
desirous of making the most of this godsend, but did not want the
boys to feel that he and Ben were trying to get all they could out of
them. They had come to work, but for a good time as well. This was the
secret of his influence over the boys. He had not outlived his youthful
feelings; knew theirs, and liked to frolic as well as they did. Knowing
that Seth and Joe were leaders of the rest, and would do anything
in reason for Ben, the wise old man determined to create a public
sentiment, and then follow the leadings of it; so he took them aside,
and told them this plan, of which they highly approved, and which Seth
was to propose at the proper time, and Joe to advocate. Seats were now
made along the walls; a great quantity of pitch knots were piled up on
the foundation of the chimney, and set on fire. This made such a light,
that the very heads of the nails in the floor were visible, while the
smoke went out of the hole left in the roof for the chimney.