Page images
PDF
EPUB
[blocks in formation]

no'-ble-honorable; worthy; above what is mean. tim'-id-not bold; easily frightened.

throng-crowd; multitude.

WORDS AND PHRASES:

rē'-cent

'gayest laddie''

"merry troop"

"Hailing the snow''

DARIUS GREEN AND HIS FLYING-MACHINE

JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE

John Townsend Trowbridge (1827- ), an American writer, lives in Cambridge. He and Lucy Larcom were for a time editors of "Our Young Folks' Magazine. "Trowbridge first saw a flying-machine sixty years after he wrote "Darius Green.'' He was then eighty-three years old.

1

If ever there lived a Yankee lad,
Wise or otherwise, good or bad,
Who, seeing the birds fly, didn't jump
With flapping arms from stake or stump,
Or, spreading the tail

Of his coat for a sail,

Take a soaring leap from post or rail,
And wonder why

He couldn't fly,

And flap and flutter and wish and try—
If ever you knew a country dunce
Who didn't try that as often as once,
All I can say is, that's a sign

He never would do for a hero of mine.

2

An aspiring genius was D. Green:
The son of a farmer,-age fourteen;
His body was long and lank and lean,—
Just right for flying, as will be seen;
He had two eyes, each bright as a bean,
And a freckled nose that grew between,
A little awry, for I must mention
That he had riveted his attention
Upon his wonderful invention,

Twisting his tongue as he twisted the strings,
Working his face as he worked the wings,
And with every turn of gimlet and screw
Turning and screwing his mouth round, too,
Till his nose seemed bent

To catch the scent,

Around some corner, of new-baked pies,
And his wrinkled cheeks and his squinting eyes
Grew puckered into a queer grimace,

That made him look very droll in the face,
And also very wise.

3

And wise he must have been, to do more

Than ever a genius did before,

Excepting Dædalus of yore

And his son Icarus, who wore

Upon their backs

Those wings of wax

He had read of in the old almanacs.

Darius was clearly of the opinion,
That the air is also man's dominion,
And that, with paddle or fin or pinion,
We soon or late

Shall navigate

The azure as now we sail the sea.
The thing looks simple enough to me;
And if you doubt it,

Hear how Darius reasoned about it.

4

"Birds can fly,

An' why can't I?

Must we give in,"

Says he with a grin,

""T the bluebird an' phoebe

Are smarter'n we be?

Jest fold our hands an' see the swaller,
An' blackbird an' catbird beat us holler?
Does the leetle, chatterin', sassy wren,

No bigger'n my thumb, know more than men?
Jest show me that!

Er prove't the bat

Has got more brains than's in my hat,
An' I'll back down, an' not till then!"

He argued further: "Ner I can't see
What's th' use o' wings to a bumblebee,
Fer to git a livin' with, more'n to me;-
Ain't my business

Important's his'n is?

"That Icarus

Was a silly cuss,—

Him an' his daddy Dædalus.

They might 'a' knowed wings made o' wax
Wouldn't stan' sun-heat an' hard whacks,
I'll make mine o' luther,

Er suthin' er other."

5

And he said to himself, as he tinkered and planned:

"But I ain't goin' to show my hand

To mummies that never can understand
The fust idee that's big an' grand.
They'd 'a' laft an' made fun

O' Creation itself afore 't was done!"
So he kept his secret from all the rest,
Safely buttoned within his vest;

And in the loft above the shed

Himself he locks, with thimble and thread
And wax and hammer and buckles and screws,
And all such things as geniuses use ;-
Two bats for patterns, curious fellows!
A charcoal-pot and a pair of bellows;
An old hoop-skirt or two, as well as
Some wire and several old umbrellas;
A carriage-cover, for tail and wings;
A piece of harness; and straps and strings;
And a big strong box,

In which he locks

These and a hundred other things.

6

His grinning brothers, Reuben and Burke
And Nathan and Jotham and Solomon, lurk

Around the corner to see him work,-
Sitting cross-legged, like a Turk,

Drawing the waxed end through with a jerk,
And boring the holes with a comical quirk
Of his wise old head, and a knowing smirk.

But vainly they mounted each other's backs,

And poked through knot-holes and pried through cracks;
With wood from the pile and straw from the stacks
He plugged the knot-holes and calked the cracks;
And a bucket of water, which one would think
He had brought up into the loft to drink

When he chanced to be dry,

Stood always nigh,

For Darius was sly!

And whenever at work he happened to spy
At chink or crevice a blinking eye,

He let a dipper of water fly.

"Take that! an' ef ever ye get a peep, Guess ye'll ketch a weasel asleep!"

And he sings as he locks

His big strong box:

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

Keep wide awake when ye're ketchin' him!"

So day after day

8

He stitched and tinkered and hammered away,

Till at last 'twas done,

« PreviousContinue »