March' Halt!

Better the soberest, prosiest life,

Than a blasted home and a broken

788

DARIUS GREEN.

Upon their backs
Those wings of wax

He had read of in the old almanacs.
That the air was also man's dominion,
Darius was clearly of the opinion
And that, with paddle or fin or
pinion,

We soon or late Should navigate

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. 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 as 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

And 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.

The thing looks simple enough to me;
Hear how Darius reasoned about it.
And if you doubt it,

"The birds can fly,
An' why can't I?
Must we give in,"
Says he with a grin,

"" the bluebird an' phoebe
Jest fold our hands an' see the swaller
Are smarter'n we be?
An' blackbird an' catbird beat us

holler?

o' wax

He let a dipper of water fly.

Take that! an' ef ever ye git a peep, Guess ye'll ketch a weasel asleep!" And he sings as he locks His big strong box:

Thought cunning Darius: "Now I shan't go

Along 'ith the fellers to see the show. I'll say I've got sich a terrible cough! An' then, when the folks 'ave all gone off,

I'll hev full swing Fer to try the thing, An' practyse a leetle on the wing."

"Ain't goin' to see the celebration?" Says Brother Nate. "No; botheration!

I've got sich a cold-a toothache-I

to spy

fly!"

Says Burke, "His toothache's all'n his eye!

He never'd miss a Fo'th-o'-July,

Le's hurry back an' hide'n the barn,

He crept from his bed; And, seeing the others were gone, he said,

"I'm a-gittin' over the cold'n my head."

And away he sped,

66

Agreed!" Through the orchard they creep back,

Along

by the fences, behind the stack,

And one by one, through a hole in the wall,

In under the dusty barn they crawl, Dressed in their Sunday garments all;

And a very astonishing sight was that,

When each in his cobwebbed coat and hat

Came up through the floor like an ancient rat.

And there they hid;
And Reuben slid

The fastenings back, and the door undid.

"Keep dark! said he, "While I squint an' see what the' is to see."

As knights of old put on their mail,-
From head to foot

An iron suit,
Iron jacket and iron boot,
Iron breeches, and on the head
No hat, but an iron pot instead,

And under the chin the bail,-
I believe they called the thing a helm:
And the lid they carried they called
a shield;

shed.

field,

Sallying forth to overwhelm

the realm:

So this modern knight
Prepared for fight,

Put on his wings and strapped them tight;

Jointed and jaunty, strong and light:

As a demon is hurled by an angel's

spear

Heels over head, to his proper sphere,

Heels over head, and head over heels,
Dizzily down the abyss he wheels,
So fell Darius. Upon his crown,
In the midst of the barn-yard he
came down,

In a wonderful whirl of tangled
strings,
Broken braces and broken springs,
Broken tail and broken wings,
Shooting stars, and various things.
Barn-yard litter of straw and chaff,
And much that wasn't so sweet by
half.

Away with a bellow fled the calf, And what was that? Did the gosling laugh?

'Tis a merry roar
From the old barn-door,

And he hears the voice of Jotham crying,

"Say, D'rius! how de yeou like flyin' ?"