A few short hours sufficed to bring him round, And he at logging speedily was found.
There still was something in this wild bush-life To suit a mind ne"er formed for worldly strife.
The chopper"s quick reverberating stroke-- The well-trained oxen, toiling in the yoke-- The distant cow-bell"s ever-changing sound-- The new-chopped tree"s deep thundering on the ground; The patter of the rain on forest leaves, The tree-frog"s pipe, which oft the ear deceives, The blazing log-heaps, and the rude rail fence-- The wild-bee"s hum of grat.i.tude intense For h.o.a.rds of honey, which our woods still yield; The plenteous crops contained in each small field; The Summer evening"s song of "Whip-poor-will,"
Near, or remote, while all beside is still; The clamorous crow"s most harsh discordant note; The blue jay, p.r.o.ne to steal--by nature taught; The beauteous woodp.e.c.k.e.r--the pigeon"s flight; The snake, innoxious, gliding out of sight-- These sights and sounds brought pleasure to his mind, Most heart-felt pleasure, leaving peace behind.
And though he toiled with all the eagerness Which youths Of ardent temperaments possess, Till his poor body every night was tired, He evermore these sounds and sights admired.
And naught but broken health could e"er have drove Him from those woods, in which he loved to rove.
Meanwhile, he took the first convenient time To get some cherry logs, in soundness prime, From which rude bedsteads he contrived to make, That they their rest might with more comfort take.
He made a table, too, and felt quite glad That they, at last so good a table had.
These things were spoken of not boastingly, But with a view to let new-comers see How, in the Bush, strange shifts and turns are made, By those who, rightly, are of _debt_ afraid.
The COOPERS, simple minded, could not brook To stand as debtors in a tradesman"s book; And even to this day--through eighteen years-- "Twould grieve them sore should they be in arrears.
And I am sure it would be better far, That families should themselves from debt debar, Than blast their prospects, as too many do, By what they have so often cause to rue!
From this digression let us now return, To note what WILLIAM found with deep concern; That ""Tis not good for Man to be alone,"
As said by G.o.d, in Wisdom"s solemn tone.
This now appeared to him a serious truth, Far more than it had done in days of youth.
The birds still paired, and had their separate nest, From love responsive in each songster"s breast; But, though he loved on Nature"s face to gaze, And mark the beauties which each day displays, He felt a vacancy in his young breast, For he no lov"d companion then possessed.
Far different was it in his native land-- There, such an one might always be at hand.
Where was he now to look? Religious views Left him small s.p.a.ce from which a mate to choose.
G.o.d"s word came to his aid, and then in prayer He threw himself upon his Father"s care.
That word declares, that "He who had not spared His well-beloved Son, was not prepared For once withholding from his children dear Aught which they need, while still sojourning here!"
This precious promise proved to be as balm, To keep his troubled heart at present calm; And he resolved in patience still to wait, Till G.o.d should find for him a true "help-mate."
This resolution formed, was kept intact, Nor was the strength his own, for that he lacked.
He, though so young, had very clearly seen That Man, in every age, is p.r.o.ne to lean Upon an arm of flesh--most frail support!
Which often fails us, oft makes us its sport.
And yet, O strange perversity! we cling To that which never can us comfort bring.
He knew "twas better to feel flesh so weak As to be forced his strength from G.o.d to seek; To feel, like Paul, "However weak we be, We may still glory in Infirmity."
From day to day, from week to week mav prove The prcciousness of trusting in G.o.d"s love!
Should we do this, our joy will never cease-- Dark things will all look bright! Our end be peace!
BOOK VI.
THE ARGUMENT--Address to Rural Life. An average sample of a Logging-bee described. The Feast. The Logger"s jests, and other incidents. Burning Log-heaps. The Loggers" Song. WILLIAM"S thoughts and employments in Autumn. The Autumnal garb of trees. Reflections connected therewith.
The family"s Sabbath-day employments. Beginning of their hardships.
WILLIAM leaves the Bush for Village life, but soon returns. Father"s narrow escape from being crushed by tree falling. Winter employments.
Preparations for Sugar-making. Process described. _Sugarer"s_ Song. Conclusion.
Hail, Rural Life! from whom such pleasures spring, That I invoke my Muse thy charms to sing.
Whether I view thee in my native land, Where Science lends to Industry her hand, To make her cornfields yield a double store, Or beautify her landscapes more and more-- Where wealth immense is very freely spent, By those who on thy weal are still intent; Or here, in Canada, thy face I view On well-cleared farms, or those which are quite new; However rude thy features, or despised-- Though in Town-life, thy charms by me are prized.
A sense of these still urges me along, As I proceed with my unlettered song; And every line which I may write on thee, I trust will evidence sincerity.
The new-come settlers now with speed prepare To log the fallow they have cleared with care.
For Summer, with her heat intense, has fled, And fruit-crowned Autumn has come in her stead.
The _brush_, well dried, is burnt; and all around Logs, black and charred, are lying on the ground.
These into heaps must every one be drawn, By means which to all Bush-men are well known.
Have they not strength or time the work to do?
They ask their neighbor"s help, and oxen, too.
And fellow-feeling, sprung from their own need, Leads these the summons to obey with speed.
Should the set day be fine, they start from home Without regret, and to the fallow come.
One looks so pale, he seems not fit for work; Has had the _Ague_, and it still doth lurk In his poor frame, and may again appear A dozen times before he"s closed the year!
Some others, also, wear quite sickly looks, As though they had run deep in _Doctors_" books; Or are reduced, by heat and toil intense, Till work, with them, would seem, but mere pretence.
But let us not pre-judge them; they have hearts Brave as a lion, and will act their parts.
The "fixings" ready, some experienced hand A "Come, boys! Let"s to work!" gives as command.
This said, their strength and numbers they divide; "Haw, Buck!" "Gee, Bright!" is heard on every side.
"Boys, bring your _handspikes_; raise this monster log Till I can hitch the chain--_Buck!_ lazy dog!
Stand o"er, I say! What ails the stupid beast?
Ah! now I see; you think you have a feast!"
_Buck_ s.n.a.t.c.hes at a clump of herbage near, And deems it is, to him, most savory cheer; But thwack, thwack, thwack, comes from the blue-beech goad; He takes the strokes upon his forehead broad With due submission; moves a little piece, That those unwelcome blows may sooner cease.
The chain is. .h.i.tched; "_Haw_, now!" is loudly heard, And the half-buried log is disinterred.
"Get up! Go "long?" vociferously shouts Every ox-teamster, at these logging bouts.
The heap is reached; now list the loud "Whoa-ay!"
Louder and louder, till the oxen stay.
The chain"s unhitched; "Now, boys! your handspikes seize; Lift! Altogether! Rest it on your knees; There; roll him over. Ah! "twas n.o.bly done!
The fire will dry his coat, as sure"s a gun!"
And thus, to lighten toil, they pa.s.s the joke, Or stand a moment to have serious talk.
One of some accidents his neighbors tells, Till each warm bosom with emotion swells; How Jack Maguin was logging at a "Bee,"
And got his right leg broke beneath the knee; How he, through careless treatment, was laid up For full two months, and had scarce bite or sup.
Or how Will Sims was chopping near his house, And his best ox was feeding on the "browse,"
When all at once the quivering tree descended Upon the beast, and thus his life was ended!
Anon we notice that each s.m.u.tty face Beams with good humor, and the cause we trace To the supply of _whisky_ just parta"en-- A thing which often proves the settler"s bane.
Again they work with stimulated strength, And, "midst more noise, the log-heaps rise at length.
The dinner hour arrives; the horn is blown To make the fact to all the loggers known.
The teams to some near pasture now are led, Or with new hay most plentifully fed.
The men make for the house with decent haste-- None are inclined to let time run to waste.
But this does not prevent the laugh and jest, At the black face by every one possessed.
To wash is needful, and refreshing, too, So all go at it without more ado.
This task performed, which all should take delight in, They to the feast prepared need no inviting.
Their heavy labor gives an appet.i.te, And they can eat with relish and delight.
But first their host, if he"s a Christian man, Gives thanks to G.o.d with all the warmth he can.
Then all the workmen ample justice do To those good things so tempting to the view.
Dear Reader, have you seen a logging feast?
No? Wait a while, and I will place at least The chief ingredients before your eyes; Here"s a huge prime _ham_; there are pumpkin pies; Mealy potatoes next our notice claim-- The bread and b.u.t.ter we need never name, They must be there of course; and here"s a dish Of no mean size, well filled with splendid fish.
_That"s_ boiled, fresh mutton; _those_ are nice green peas; This huckleberry pie is sure to please!
And now I"ll cease--no, three things yet remain; Tea, cream and sugar, might of slight complain!
There, will this do? Or is there something more Which you would think it right to set before Such worthy eaters? I am satisfied It can"t be bettered in our Bush-land wide!
Good as it is, and hungry as they are, They cannot from good jests themselves debar.
One sees his neighbor cast a longing glance Toward that berry pie; and, rare good chance!
"Tis nearest _him_, he chuckles with delight, And is about to whip it out of sight; But Fortune, still capricious, gives the _No_; His nearest neighbor does an interest show In this proceeding, and the pie has s.n.a.t.c.hed, Quite in good humor, ere the scheme"s well hatched!
The disappointed couple sympathise, And signal to each other, with their eyes.
The third one, quite unselfish, deems the jest Gone far enough, and now resolves "tis best To help himself, and hand round to the rest.
Another to the fishes takes a notion, With more of selfishness than wise precaution.
His work-mate spies this, and removes the prize A _leetle_ further from his longing eyes.
Such jokes pa.s.s free; and no great wrong is done To real good-fellowship by harmless fun.