Part 62 (1/2)
And thus it came to pa.s.s, you know, that maids without a nickel, And sailor-lads when tempest blow, and children in a pickle, And every man that's fatherly, and every kindly matron, In choosing saints would all agree to call St. Nicholas patron.
He comes again at Christmas-time and stirs us up to giving; He rings the merry bells that chime good-will to all the living; He blesses every friendly deed and every free donation; He sows the secret, golden seed of love through all creation.
Our fathers drank to Santa Claus, the sixth of each December, And still we keep his feast because his virtues we remember.
Among the saintly ranks he stood, with smiling human features, And said, ”_Be good! But not too good to love your fellow-creatures!_”
December 6, 1907.
ARS AGRICOLARIS
An Ode for the ”Farmer's Dinner,” University Club, New York, January 23, 1913
All hail, ye famous Farmers!
Ye vegetable-charmers, Who know the art of making barren earth Smile with prolific mirth And bring forth twins or triplets at a birth!
Ye scientific fertilizers of the soil, And h.o.r.n.y-handed sons of toil!
To-night from all your arduous cares released, With manly brows no longer sweat-impearled, Ye hold your annual feast, And like the Concord farmers long ago, Ye meet above the ”Bridge” below, And draw the cork heard round the world!
What memories are yours! What tales Of triumph have your tongues rehea.r.s.ed, Telling how ye have won your first Potatoes from the stubborn mead, (Almost as many as ye sowed for seed!) And how the luscious cabbages and kails Have bloomed before you in their bed At seven dollars a head!
And how your onions took a prize For bringing tears into the eyes Of a hard-hearted cook! And how ye slew The Dragon Cut-worm at a stroke!
And how ye broke, Routed, and put to flight the horrid crew Of vile potato-bugs and Hessian flies!
And how ye did not quail Before th' invading armies of San Jose Scale, But met them bravely with your little pail Of poison, which ye put upon each tail O' the dreadful beasts and made their courage fail!
And how ye did acquit yourselves like men In fields of agricultural strife, and then, Like generous warriors, sat you down at ease And gently to your gardener said, ”Let us have _Pease_!”
But _were_ there Pease? Ah, no, dear Farmers, no!
The course of Nature is not ordered so.
For when we want a vegetable most, She holds it back; And when we boast To our week-endly friends Of what we'll give them on our farm, alack, Those things the old dam, Nature, never sends.
O Pease in bottles, Sparrow-gra.s.s in jars, How often have ye saved from scars Of shame, and deep embarra.s.sment, The disingenuous farmer-gent, To whom some wondering guest has cried, ”How _do_ you raise such Pease and Sparrow-gra.s.s?”
Whereat the farmer-gent has not denied The compliment, but smiling has replied, ”To raise such things you must have lots of gla.s.s.”
From wiles like these, true Farmers, hold aloof; Accept no praise unless you have the proof.
If n.i.g.g.ard Nature should withhold the green And sugary Pea, welcome the humble Bean.
Even the easy Radish, and the Beet, If grown by your own toil are extra sweet.
Let malefactors of great wealth and banker-felons Rejoice in foreign artichokes, imported melons; But you, my Farmers, at your frugal board Spread forth the fare your Sabine Farms afford.
Say to Maecenas, when he is your guest, ”No peaches! try this turnip, 'tis my best.”
Thus shall ye learn from labors in the field What honesty a farmer's life may yield, And like G. Was.h.i.+ngton in early youth, Though cherries fail, produce a crop of truth.
But think me not too strict, O followers of the plough; Some place for fiction in your lives I would allow.
In January when the world is drear, And bills come in, and no results appear, And snow-storms veil the skies, And ice the streamlet clogs, Then may you warm your heart with pleasant lies And revel in the seedsmen's catalogues!
What visions and what dreams are these Of cauliflower obese,-- Of giant celery, taller than a mast,-- Of strawberries Like red pincus.h.i.+ons, round and vast,-- Of succulent and spicy gumbo,-- Of cantaloupes, as big as Jumbo,-- Of high-strung beans without the strings,-- And of a host of other wild, romantic things!
Why, then, should Doctor Starr declare That modern habits mental force impair?