<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i042a.png" width-obs="460" height-obs="123" alt="Brownies' Feast" title="" /></div>
<h2>THE BROWNIES' FEAST.</h2>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/i042b-i.png" width-obs="53" height-obs="102" alt="I" title="" /></div>
<div>
In best of spirits, blithe and free,—<br/>
As Brownies always seem to be,—<br/>
A jovial band, with hop and leap,<br/>
Were passing through a forest deep,<br/>
When in an open space they spied<br/>
A heavy caldron, large and wide,<br/></div>
<div class='center'>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poem and tale">
<tr><td align='left'>Where woodmen, working at their trade,<br/>
A rustic boiling-place had made.<br/>
"My friends," said one, "a chance like this<br/>
No cunning Brownie band should miss,<br/>
All unobserved, we may prepare<br/>
And boil a pudding nicely there;<br/></td><td align='left'><ANTIMG src="images/i042c.png" width-obs="104" height-obs="132" alt="Telling a tale" title="" />
</td></tr>
</table></div>
<div class='center'>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Fire and poem">
<tr><td align='left'><ANTIMG src="images/i042d.png" width-obs="156" height-obs="134" alt="Blowing on the fire" title="" />
</td><td align='left'>Some dying embers smolder still<br/>
Which we may soon revive at will;<br/>
And by the roots of yonder tree<br/>
A brook goes babbling to the sea.<br/>
At Parker's mill, some miles below,<br/>
They're grinding flour as white as snow<br/>
An easy task for us to bear<br/>
Enough to serve our need from there:<br/></td></tr>
</table></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class='center'> <table class="window" summary="window">
<tr><td align='left'><br/><br/><br/><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 12em;">I noticed, as I passed to-night,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 11em;">A window with a broken light,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 10em;">And through the opening we'll pour</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 9em;">Though bolts and bars be on the door."</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">"And I," another Brownie cried</span>,<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">"Will find the plums and currants dried;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">I'll have some here in half an hour</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">To sprinkle thickly through the flour;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">So stir yourselves, and bear in mind</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 8em;">That some must spice and sugar find."</span><br/></td>
</tr></table></div>
<div class='poem8'>
"I know," cried one, "where hens have made<br/>
Their nest beneath the burdock shade—<br/>
I saw them stealing out with care<br/>
To lay their eggs in secret there.<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The farmer's wife, through sun and rain,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Has sought to find that nest in vain:</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 3em;">They cackle by the wall of stones,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The hollow stump and pile of bones,</span><br/></div>
<div class='center'>
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="poem and drawing">
<tr><td align='left'><ANTIMG src="images/i043b.png" width-obs="129" height-obs="317" alt="By the fencepost" title="" />
</td><td align='left' valign='top'>And by the ditch that lies below,<br/>
Where yellow weeds and nettles grow;<br/>
And draw her after everywhere<br/>
Until she quits them in despair.<br/>
The task be mine to thither lead<br/>
A band of comrades now with speed,<br/>
To help me bear a tender load<br/>
Along the rough and rugged road."<br/>
Away, away, on every side,<br/>
At once the lively Brownies glide;<br/>
Some after plums, more 'round the hill—<br/>
The shortest way to reach the mill—<br/>
While some on wings and some on legs<br/>
Go darting off to find the eggs.<br/></td></tr>
</table></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class='poem'>A few remained upon the spot<br/>
To build a fire beneath the pot;<br/>
Some gathered bark from trunks of trees,<br/>
While others, on their hands and knees,<br/>
Around the embers puffed and blew<br/>
Until the sparks to blazes grew;<br/>
And scarcely was the kindling burned<br/>
Before the absent ones returned.<br/>
All loaded down they came, in groups,<br/>
In couples, singly, and in troops.<br/></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i044.png" width-obs="465" height-obs="488" alt="In troops" title="" /></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class='poem'>
Upon their shoulders, heads, and backs<br/>
They bore along the floury sacks;<br/>
With plums and currants others came,<br/>
Each bag and basket filled the same;<br/></div>
<div class='center'>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Carrying a sack">
<tr><td align='left'><ANTIMG src="images/i045a.png" width-obs="373" height-obs="126" alt="carrying a sack" title="" />
</td><td align='left'>While those who gave the hens a call<br/>
Had taken nest-egg, nest, and all;<br/>
And more, a pressing want to meet,<br/>
</td></tr>
</table></div>
<div class='poem'>
From some one's line had hauled a sheet,<br/>
The monstrous pudding to infold<br/>
While in the boiling pot it rolled.<br/>
The rogues were flour from head to feet<br/>
Before the mixture was complete.<br/>
Like snow-birds in a drift of snow<br/>
They worked and elbowed in the dough,<br/>
Till every particle they brought<br/>
Was in the mass before them wrought.<br/>
And soon the sheet around the pile<br/></div>
<div class='center'> <table class="stick" summary="stick">
<tr><td align='left'><div class='poem2'>Was wrapped in most artistic style.<br/>
Then every plan and scheme was tried<br/>
To hoist it o'er the caldron's side.<br/>
At times, it seemed about to fall,<br/>
Yet none forsook their post through fear,<br/>
But harder worked with danger near.<br/>
They pulled and hauled and orders gave,<br/>
And pushed and pried with stick and stave,<br/></div>
<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>
</td>
</tr></table></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i046a.png" width-obs="455" height-obs="477" alt="Pulling the sack up" title="" /></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class='poem'>
Until, in spite of height and heat,<br/>
They had performed the trying feat.<br/></div>
<div class='center'>
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="spilling">
<tr><td align='left' valign='top'>To take the pudding from the pot<br/>
They might have found as hard and hot.<br/>
But water on the fire they threw,<br/>
And then to work again they flew.<br/>
And soon the steaming treasure sat<br/>
Upon a stone both broad and flat,<br/>
Which answered for a table grand,<br/>
When nothing better was at hand.<br/></td><td align='left'><ANTIMG src="images/i046b.png" width-obs="221" height-obs="158" alt="Spilling out" title="" />
</td></tr>
</table></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class='center'>
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Never eat">
<tr><td align='left'>Some think that Brownies never eat,<br/>
But live on odors soft and sweet.<br/>
That through the verdant woods proceed<br/>
Or steal across the dewy mead;<br/>
But those who could have gained a sight<br/>
Of them, around their pudding white,<br/>
Would have perceived that elves of air<br/>
Can relish more substantial fare.<br/></td><td align='left'><ANTIMG src="images/i047a.png" width-obs="182" height-obs="123" alt="around a cookie" title="" />
</td></tr>
</table></div>
<div class='center'>
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="clustered close">
<tr><td align='left'><ANTIMG src="images/i047b.png" width-obs="175" height-obs="119" alt="Sitting to eat" title="" />
</td><td align='left'>They clustered close, and delved and ate<br/>
Without a knife, a spoon, or plate;<br/>
Some picking out the plums with care,<br/>
And leaving all the pastry there.<br/>
While some let plums and currants go,<br/>
But paid attention to the dough.<br/>
The purpose of each Brownie's mind<br/>
Was not to leave a crumb behind,<br/>
That, when the morning sun should shine<br/>
Through leafy tree and clinging vine,<br/></td></tr>
</table></div>
<div class='poem'>
No traces of their sumptuous feast<br/></div>
<div class='center'>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="mystic power">
<tr><td align='left'>It might reveal to<br/>
And well they gauged<br/>
When they their<br/>
For when the rich<br/>
The rogues could<br/>
—The miller never<br/>
For Brownies wield a<br/></td><td align='center'><ANTIMG src="images/i047c.png" width-obs="126" height-obs="126" alt="Holding tummy" title="" />
</td><td align='left'>man or beast;<br/>
what all could bear,<br/>
pudding did prepare;<br/>
repast was done,<br/>
neither fly nor run.<br/>
missed his flour,<br/>
mystic power;<br/></td></tr>
</table></div>
<div class='poem'>Whate'er they take they can restore<br/>
In greater plenty than before.<br/></div>
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