The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1855-07-19
For the National Era.
For The Nduohai Era.
CRAZY IsT0P HER
BY ALICE CAREY.

FOR The Nduonai Fra.
CRAZY CHRIsT0P HER.
BY ALICE CAREY.
Neighborcd by maple wood,
Dim and dusty, old and low,
Once our liule school-houSc stood
('fIs some twenty years aro)
On the roof Of clapboards, dued
Smoothly in the summer heat.
Ofthc hundred boys that tried,
Never one could keep has feet
Near the door the crossroads were
A stones throw, perhaps, away,
And To read the sign-board there,
Made pastime every day
He who turned the index down,
So pointed on the sign
To the nearest market town.
Was, we thought, Il painter hnr;
And the childish wonder rose,
As we gazed with puzzled looks
On the letters, good as those
Printed in our spelling
Near it WAS a well-how deep!
With lis bucket warped and dry.
Broken curb, and leaning sweep,
And a plum-trce growing by,
Which, with low and tancly top
Made the grass so bright and cool.
Travellers would sometimes stop,
For half Lours resin school
Not an eye could keep the place
o. the lesson thcn-intcnt
Each 10 con IN" strangers face.
And 10 sec the road he went
Scattered are we far and wide
Careless, curious children then:
Wanderers some, and some have died
Some, thank God, are honest men.
But as p'ayma,rs, large or small,
Noisy, thoughtful, or drmurr,
can see them one and all.
The great world in miniature.
Common flowers. with common names
Filled the woods and meadows round
Dandclions with their flames
Snothered tlnt against the ground:
Mullen stocks wIth gray braids set
Full fyeiow-this,lrs spearrd-
Violets, purple near To JET
CrowioOl, and the old mans beard
And along the dusty way,
Thick As prints OF naked feet,
Iron weeds and fcunel gay
Biossomed IN the summer heat
Hedges Of wild blackbcrrieS
Pears, and honey -locusts tall,
Spice-wood, and IS good applc-trre> -
Well enough we knew them all
But the ripest blackbcTries,
Nor the mullcns topped with gold
Peach nor hOney-locust trees.
Nor the flowers when all are told.
Pleased us like the cabin, near
Which silver river ran,
And where lived, for many year.
Christopher, the crazy man.
Hair Is white as snow he had
Mixing with beard that fell
Down his breast; il he were mad,
Passed our little wits to tell
In his eyes unfalhomed blue
Burned u ray so clear and bright,
Ohentmes we said we knew
1t would shame the caudlclight
Mystic was the life he led,
Picking herbs in secret nooks-
Finding. as the old folks said,
Tongues in trees and books in brook.
Waking sometimes IN the gloom
Ofthe solemn middle night,
lie had seen his narrow room
Full of angels dressed IN white
so he said in all good faith,
And one day, with fearful eye,
Told Us that he heard old Death,
Sharpening his scythe, close by.
Whether it were prophecy,
Or a dream, cannot say;
But good little Emily
Died the evening OF that day.
In the woods, where up and down
We had searched, and only seen
Adder's tongue, with dali, dead brUwr
Mouled with the heavy green,
Msy-applcs, or wild birds sweet
Going through the shadows dim,
Spirits, with white. noiseless feet
Walked, he said and talked with his
"Whal is all the ioiing for,
And the spinning ~ he would say,
See the lilies al my door
Never dressed queen as they
lie who gives the ravens food
For our wants as well will care.
Omy children! lie is good
Better than your fathers are
So he lived from year TO year,
Never toIling, mystery clad
Spirits, if they did appear,
Being all the friends he had
Alternating seasons sped,
And there fell no night so rou.h,
But his cabin fire, he said,
Made ii light aud warm enough
Soft and slow our steps would be-
As the silver river ran,
Days when we had been TO Sre
Christopher, the crazy man
son and slow, to number DER
The delights he sand he had
Wondering always, more and more.
Whether he were wise or mad.
On hillside next the sun,
Where the schoolboys quiet keep
And to seed the clovers run,
lie l. lying, fast asleep.
But At last, ito Heaven be pralsrJ
Gabriel his bed will find,
Giving love for lonely days,
And for clothing his righ; mind
Sometimes. when think about
How he lived among the flowers,
Gently going in and out,
With no cares nor iretful hours
OF the deep serene Of light
In ms blue, unfathOmed eyes
Seems the childish fancy right,
That could half believe him wise
SAToR WILSON, of Massachusetts, is
on a tour out West, making Abo
hes as he goes along. AT Cincinnat
lay evening, abiding to the Slavery
Is of the National Council at Philadel
which he was a seceder, he took occ
=:
recent effort had been made to com
md rising party to Slavery, in the Con
It Philadelphia; but thanks to the re
IF a few, the baffled treason was exp
ZEN them and that party there ,cas ~
,cau and deep ditch, and they shouI
:,,at no ,,,,,cL an ifs de feat ne I'm III,