  O NE night the Brownies stood beside A long canal, whose silent tide Connected seaboard cities great With inland sections of the state. The laden boats, so large and strong, Were tied to trees by hawsers long; No boatmen stood by helm or oar, No mules were tugging on the shore; All work on land and water too Had been abandoned by the crew. Said one: "We see, without a doubt, What some dispute has brought about. Perhaps a strike for greater pay, For even rates, or shorter day, Has caused the boats to loiter here With cargoes costing some one dear. These cabbages so large and round Should, long ere this, the dish have found, Upon some kitchen-stove or range To spread an odor rich and strange; Those squashes, too, should not be lost By long exposure to the frost, When they would prove so great a prize To old and young, if baked in pies. And then those pippins, ripe and fair, From some fine orchard picked with care, Should not to rot and ruin go, Though work is hard or wages low, When thousands would be glad to stew The smallest apples there in view." Another said: "We lack the might To set the wrongs of labor right, But by the power within us placed We'll see that nothing goes to waste. So every hand must be applied That boats upon their way may glide." Then some ran here and there with speed To find a team to suit their need. A pair of mules, that grazed about The grassy banks, were fitted out With straps and ropes without delay To start the boats upon their way; And next some straying goats were found, Where in a yard they nibbled round Destroying plants of rarest kind That owners in the town could find. Soon, taken from their rich repast, They found themselves in harness fast; Then into active service pressed They trod the tow-path with the rest. On deck some Brownies took their stand To man the helm, or give command, And oversee the work; while more Stayed with the teams upon the shore. At times the rope would drag along And catch on snags or branches long, And cause delays they ill could bear, For little time they had to spare. With accidents they often met, And some were bruised and more were wet; Some tumbled headlong down the hold; And some from heaping cargoes rolled. But what care Brownies for a bruise, Or garments wet, from hat to shoes, When enterprises bold and new Must ere the dawn be carried through? If half the band were drenched, no doubt The work would still be carried out, For extra strength would then be found In those who still were safe and sound. But once, when "low bridge!" was the shout They stood and stared or ran about Till in the water, heels o'er head, Some members of the band were spread. A few could swim, and held their own; But more went downward like a stone Until, without the plummet's aid, They learned how deep canals are made. In spite of all the kicks and flings That fright at such a moment brings, Through lack of art, or weight of fear, It looked as if their end was near. The order now to stop the team Would pass along with sign and scream, And those on land would know by this That something startling was amiss; And those on board could plainly see Unless assistance there could be, In shape of ropes and fingers strong, There'd be some vacancies, ere long! By chance a net was to be had, That boatmen used for catching shad— A gill-net of the strongest kind, For heavy catches well designed; Few shad against its meshes ran But left their bones on some one's pan, This bulky thing the active crew Far overboard with promptness threw. A hold at once some Brownies found, While others in its folds were bound, Until like fish in great dismay Inside the net they struggling lay. But willing hands were overhead, And quickly from the muddy bed Where shedder crabs and turtles crawled The dripping net was upward hauled, With all the Brownies clinging fast, Till safe on deck they stood at last. Sometimes a mule fell off the road And in the stream with all its load. Then precious time would be consumed Before the trip could be resumed. Thus on they went from mile to mile, With many strange mishaps the while, But working bravely through the night Until the city came in sight. Said one: "Now, thanks to bearded goats And patient mules, the heavy boats For hours have glided on their way, And reached the waters of the bay. But see, the sun's about to show His colors to the world below, And other birds than those of night Begin to take their morning flight. Our time is up; we've done our best; The ebbing tide must do the rest; Now drifting downward to their pier Let barges unassisted steer, While we make haste, with nimble feet, To find in woods a safe retreat." |
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