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Another Brownie Book

Chapter 1: ANOTHER BROWNIE BOOK
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About This Book

A collection of short illustrated verse vignettes follows a lively troop of small folkloric Brownies through seasonal adventures and everyday mischief. Individual pieces portray activities such as building a grand snow figure, fishing and boating, visiting a great waterfall, tending a neglected garden, and staging celebrations, games, and lessons. Each standalone poem pairs playful incidents and gentle humor with rhythmic, child-oriented narration, punctuated by quaint mishaps and cooperative problem-solving. Together the sketches form a series of lighthearted pastoral tableaux that celebrate communal play, inventive craft, and the charm of simple rural and civic scenes.

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Title: Another Brownie Book

Author: Palmer Cox

Release date: January 2, 2019 [eBook #58598]
Most recently updated: February 13, 2021

Language: English

Credits: Produced by David Edwards, Jane Robins and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by the University of Florida Digital Collections.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANOTHER BROWNIE BOOK ***


ANOTHER
BROWNIE BOOK

BY
PALMER COX

PUBLISHED BY
THE CENTURY CO.
NEW-YORK


Copyright, 1890, by THE CENTURY CO.



CONTENTS.


THE BROWNIES' SNOW MAN.

When snowdrifts blocked the country roads,
And trees were bending with their loads,
The wind grew mild which had been raw,
And winter yielded to a thaw;
That night the Brownies stood to stare
In wonder on the village square.
Said one, "This plot where drifts now roll
Seems like an acre from the Pole.
I have a scheme which nothing lacks:
Now while the snow so closely packs,
And may be molded in the hand,
We'll build a statue tall and grand
Which here shall stand at morning prime,
To be the wonder of the time."
Another cried, "That suits us all.
To work let every member fall.
When once the task we undertake
Be sure no dwarfish man we'll make;

But one that proudly may look down
On half the buildings in the town.
I know the place where builders keep
Their benches while the snow is deep;
The poles, and ladders too, are there,
To use when working high in air.
While some for these with me will fly,
Let some their hands to snow apply,
And not a feature of the man
Shall be neglected in our plan.
"You know the night, some time ago,
We tramped so far through drifted snow
To ornament with quaint design
The windows of a mansion fine;
And how, on lengthy ladders there
And scaffold swinging in the air,
We worked our brushes with a will
From icy cap to window-sill,
And made the people, great and small,
Believe Jack Frost had done it all?—
To-night we'll work as well, and show
A grand result before we go."
The snow that night was at its best,
And held its shape however pressed;
Like dough beneath the baker's hand
It seemed to answer each demand.
The rolls, when tumbled to and fro,
Increased with every turning, so
First like a cushion on they sped,
Then like a pillow, next, a bed,
Until the snow, adhering there,
Would leave the grass or pebbles bare.
As higher blocks of snow were laid
Still higher scaffolding was made,
And ladders brought to use instead
Of those too short to reach the head.

Thus grew the form from hour to hour;
For Brownies' hands have wondrous power,
And let them turn to what they will
Surprising work will follow still.
Some shaped the legs or smoothed the waist,
Some saw plump arms were rightly placed;
The head was fixed with proper pose,
Well fashioned were both ears and nose.
So close thronged Brownies high and low,
A looker-on would hardly know
What plan or shape the busy band
Of cunning Brownies had in hand.
But plan they had, and deftness too,
As well was seen when they were through.
The rounded form and manly port
Showed modeling of rarest sort,
While charcoal eyes, so well designed
They seemed to read the very mind,
Long icicles for beard and hair,
Were last affixed with taste and care.
And when the poles around the base
Had been returned each to its place,
And every ladder, bench, and board
They had in use, again was stored,
The Brownies stood around awhile
To gaze upon their work and smile.
Each points at head, or hand, or toe,
His special handiwork to show.
In truth, they had good reason there
With joy and pride to stand and stare,
And contemplate the object white
Which loomed above to such a height,
And not unlike some hero old,
For courage famed, or action bold,
With finger pointed out, as though,
To indicate the coming foe.
But morning light soon came to chase
The Brownies to their hiding-place.
And children on their way to school
Forgot their lessons and the rule
While gazing on the statue tall
That seemed to guard the County Hall.
And after drifts had left the square,
When roads and shingle-roofs were bare,
The Brownies' statue, like a tower,
Still bravely faced both wind and shower—
Though sinking slowly all the while,
And losing corpulence and style,
Till gardeners, on the first of May,
With shovels pitched the man away.

THE BROWNIES IN THE ACADEMY.

The Brownies once with capers spry
To an Academy drew nigh,
Which, founded by a generous hand,
Spread light and learning through the land.
The students, by ambition fired,
And men of science had retired;
So Brownies, through their mystic power,
Now took advantage of the hour.
A battery was soon displayed,
And strange experiments were made;
Electric currents were applied
To meadow-frogs they found inside,
Which sage professors, nights and days,
Had gathered up, in various ways.
To making pills some turned the mind,
While some to Dentistry inclined,
And aching teeth, both small and large,
Were there extracted free of charge.

More gazed where phrenologic charts
Showed heads partitioned off in parts.
Said one: "Let others knowledge gain
Through which to conquer ache and pain,
But by these charts I'll do my best
To learn where Fancy makes her nest."
Another cried, as he surveyed
The bumps that were so well arrayed:
"These heads exhibit, full and clear,
Which one to love and whom to fear;
Who is with noble thoughts inspired,
And who with hate or envy fired;
The man as timid as the hare,
The man destructive as the bear.
While choosing partners, one may find
It well to keep these charts in mind."
A microscope at length, they found;
And next, the Brownies gathered round
A stereopticon machine
That cast its rays upon a screen.
A thousand times it magnified,
Till, stretching out on every side,
An object large and larger spread,
And filled the gazing group with dread.
The locust, beetle, and the bee
Soon gained proportions strange to see,
And seemed like monsters close at hand
To put an end to all the band.
Ere long a door was open swung,
To show some skeletons that hung
From hook and peg, which caused a shout
Of fear to rise from those about.
Said one: "Thus Science works its way
Through old remains from day to day;
And those who during life could find
No time, perhaps, to aid mankind,
May, after all, in some such place
For years assist the human race
By giving students, as you see,
Some knowledge of Anatomy."
At other times, all breathless grouped
O'er crucibles, the Brownies stooped

To separate, with greatest skill,
The grains which cure from those that kill;
While burning acids, blazes blue,
And odors strong confused the crew.
Cried one: "Through trials hard to bear,
The student must himself prepare,
Though mixing paint, or mixing pill—
Or mixing phrases, if you will—
No careless study satisfies
If one would to distinction rise;
The minds that shed from pole to pole
The light of years, as round we roll,
Are first enriched through patient toil,
And kindled by the midnight oil."
Thus, spicing logic with a joke,
They chatted on till morning broke;
And then with wild and rapid race
The Brownie band forsook the place.

THE BROWNIES IN THE ORCHARD.

 HE autumn nights began to fill
The mind with thoughts of winter chill,
When Brownies in an orchard met,
Where ripened fruit was hanging yet.
Said one, "The apples here, indeed,
Must now be mellow to the seed;
And, ere another night, should be
Removed at once from every tree.
For any evening now may call
The frost to nip and ruin all."
Another quickly answer made:
"This man is scarcely worthy aid;
'Tis said his harsh and cruel sway
Has turned his children's love away.
"If this be true, 't would serve him right"
If frost should paint his orchard white."
"It matters not who owns the place,
Or why neglect thus shows its face,"
A third replied; "the fact is clear
That fruit should hang no longer here.
If worthy people here reside
Then will our hands be well applied;
And if unworthy folks we serve,
Still better notice we'll deserve."
"You speak our minds so full and fair,"
One loudly cried, "that speech we'll spare.
But like the buttons on your back,
We'll follow closely in your track,
And do our part with willing hand,
Without one doubting if or and."
Kind deeds the Brownies often do
Unknown to me as well as you;
The wounded hare, by hunters maimed,
Is sheltered and supplied and tamed.
The straying cat they sometimes find
Half-starved, and chased by dogs unkind,
And bring it home from many fears
To those who mourned its loss with tears.
And to the bird so young and bare,
With wings unfit to fan the air,
That preying owls had thought to rend
The Brownie often proves a friend.
Then bags and baskets were brought out
From barns and buildings round about,
With kettles, pans, and wooden-ware,
That prying eyes discovered there;
Nay, even blankets from the beds,
The pillow-slips, and table-spreads
Were in some manner brought to light
To render service through the night.
If there's a place where Brownies feel
At home with either hand or heel,
And seem from all restrictions free,
That place is in a branching tree.
At times, with balance fair and fine
They held their stations in a line;
At times, in rivalry and pride
To outer twigs they scattered wide;
And oft with one united strain
They shook the tree with might and main,
Till, swaying wildly to and fro,
It rocked upon the roots below.
So skilled at climbing were they all
The sum of accidents was small:
Some hats were crushed, some heads were sore,
Some backs were blue, ere work was o'er;
For hands will slip and feet will slide,
And boughs will break and forks divide,
And hours that promise sport sublime
May introduce a limping time.
So some who clambered up the tree
With ready use of hand and knee,
Found other ways they could descend
Than by the trunk, you may depend.
The startled birds of night came out
And watched them as they moved about;
Concluding thieves were out in force
They cawed around the place till hoarse.
But birds, like people, should be slow
To judge before the facts they know;
For neither tramps nor thieves were here,
But Brownies, honest and sincere,
Who worked like mad to strip the trees
Before they felt the morning breeze.
And well they gauged their task and time,
For ere the sun commenced to prime
The sky with faintest tinge of red
The Brownies from the orchard fled,
While all the fruit was laid with care
Beyond the reach of nipping air.


THE
BROWNIES'
YACHT-RACE.

 HEN fleets of yachts were sailing round
The rippling bay and ruffled sound,
And steering out where Neptune raves,
To try their speed in rougher waves,
The Brownies from a lofty place
Looked out upon the novel race.
Said one: "A race is under way.
They'll start from somewhere in the bay,
To leave the frowning forts behind,
And Jersey headlands, as you'll find,
And sail around, as I surmise,
The light-ship that at anchor lies.
All sails are spread, the masts will bend,
For some rich prize they now contend—
A golden cup or goblet fine,
Or punch-bowl of antique design."
Another said: "To-night, when all
Have left the boats, we'll make a call,
And boldly sail a yacht or two
Around that ship, as people do.
If I can read the signs aright
That nature shows 'twill be a night
When sails will stretch before the blast,
And not hang idly round the mast."
So thus they talked, and plans they laid,
And waited for the evening shade.
And when the lamps in city square
And narrow street began to glare,
The Brownies ventured from their place
To find the yachts and sail their race.
In equal numbers now the band,
Divided up, the vessels manned.
Short time they wasted in debate
Who should be captain, cook, or mate;
But it was settled at the start
That all would take an active part,
And be prepared to pull and haul
If trouble came in shape of squall.
For in the cunning Brownie crowd
No domineering is allowed;
All stand alike with equal power,
And friendly feeling rules the hour.
The Brownies' prophecy was true.
That night the wind increased and blew,
And dipped the sails into the wave,
And work to every Brownie gave;
Not one on board but had to clew,
Or reef, or steer, or something do.
Sometimes the yachts ran side by side
A mile or more, then parted wide,
Still tacking round and shifting sail
To take advantage of the gale.
Sometimes a sloop beyond control
At random ran, or punched a hole
Clean through her scudding rival's jibs,
Or thumped her soundly on the ribs.
Of Brownies there were two or three
Who tumbled headlong in the sea,
While they performed some action bold,
And failed to keep a proper hold.
At first it seemed they would be lost;
For here and there they pitched and tossed,
Now on the crests of billows white,
Now in the trough, clear out of sight,
But all the while with valiant heart
Performing miracles of art.


Some life-preservers soon were thrown;
And ready hands let sails alone,
And turned to render aid with speed
To those who stood so much in need.
But accident could not displace
Or weaken interest in the race;
And soon each active Brownie stood
Where he could do the greatest good;
It mattered not if shifting sail,
Or at the helm, or on the rail.
With arm to arm and hip to hip,
They lay in rows to trim the ship.
All hands were anxious to succeed
And prove their yachts had greatest speed.
But though we sail, or though we ride,
Or though we sleep, the moments glide;
And none must bear this fact in mind
More constantly than Brownie kind.
For stars began to lose their glow
While Brownies still had miles to go.
Said one, who scanned the eastern sky
With doubtless an experienced eye:
"We'll crowd all sail, for fear the day
Will find us still upon the bay—
Since it would prove a sad affair
If morning light should find us there."
But when the winds began to fail
And lightly pressed the flapping sail,
It was determined by the band
To run their yachts to nearest land,
So they could reach their hiding-place
Before the sun revealed his face.

By happy chance a cove they reached
Where high and dry the boats were beached,
And all in safety made their way
To secret haunts without delay.


THE BROWNIES AT ARCHERY.

One night the Brownies strayed around
A green and level stretch of ground,
Where young folk oft their skill displayed
At archery, till evening's shade.
The targets standing in the park,
With arrows resting in the mark,
Soon showed the cunning Brownie band
The skill of those who'd tried a hand.
A few in outer rings were fast,
Some pierced the "gold," and more had passed
Without a touch, until they sank
In trunk of tree or grassy bank.
Said one: "On page and parchment old,
The story often has been told,
How men of valor bent the bow
To spread confusion through the foe.
And even now, in later times
(As travelers find in distant climes),
Some savage tribes on plain and hill
Can make it interesting still."
Another spoke: "A scene like this,
Reminds me of that valiant Swiss,
Who in the dark and trying hour
Revealed such nerve and matchless power,
And from the head of his brave son
The apple shot, and freedom won!
While such a chance is offered here,
We'll find the bows that must be near,
And as an hour or two of night
Will bring us 'round the morning light,
We'll take such targets as we may,
To safer haunts, some miles away.
Then at our leisure we can shoot
At bull's-eyes round or luscious fruit,
Till like the Swiss of olden time,
With steady nerves and skill sublime,
Each one can split an apple fair
On every head that offers there."
Now buildings that were fastened tight
Against the prowlers of the night,
At the wee Brownies' touch and call
Soon opened and surrendered all.
So some with bulky targets strode,
That made for eight or ten a load.
And called for engineering skill
To steer them up or down the hill;
Some carried bows of rarest kind,
That reached before and trailed behind.
The English "self-yew" bow was there,
Of nicest make and "cast" so rare,
Well tipped with horn, the proper thing,
With "nocks," or notches, for the string.
Still others formed an "arrow line"
That bristled like the porcupine.
When safe within the forest shade,
The targets often were displayed.
At first, however near they stood,
Some scattered trouble through the wood.
The trees were stripped of leaves and bark,
With arrows searching for the mark.
The hares to other groves withdrew,
And frighted birds in circles flew.
But practice soon improves the art
Of all, however dull or smart;
And there they stood to do their best,
And let all other pleasures rest,
While quickly grew their skill and power,
And confidence, from hour to hour.
When targets seemed too plain or wide,
A smaller mark the Brownies tried.
By turns each member took his stand
And risked his head to serve the band.