The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1883-11-08
The POlly-Dancers

When wee bit of child-almost q
baby-I remember that one day my
father called me to the low table,
my eyes, and said:
Look at the Polly-dancers
He had brought in green pine-twig
from the wood-pile, had cut off half
dozen brush-like little tufts, had
trimmed their tips, and then, blowing
upon them gently, had set them dane
ing about the table as if they were
alive. They foated this way and that,
each taking its own direction; and,
when one moved too near the edge of
the table, light puff from his lips
would send it back again. They seemed
to me like tiny green-skirted sprites
having frolic together, and L wholly
forgot my rag-babies and my London
dolls in my rapture over the Polly
dancers.
When 1 asked, Where did the Polly
dancers come FROM and was an
swered From the woods" whole
new, unexplored world rose before me.
There was dark-blue outline
against the sunset, across the river,
and another heavier line of purple
green in the north, toward the sea,
which / had heard called "the woods.
The name had been full of mystery to
me before; but from that moment it
stood for q wonderland-the home of
the Polly-dancers How / longed for
the time when should be old enough
to go to the woods And when one
summer day, year or two after, my
brother asked and gained leave to take
me with him a-berrying, was not l a
happy girl?
The walk was through long street,
past great many houses, then over an
open, unshaded road. But at last we
were there. When the cool, lofty
greenness closed us in, and. fresh earth
smAls came up from the moss and ferns
beneath our feet, L seemed to know it
all as if l had been there before. These
were really "the woods of my dream!
My brother seated me on a great
rock covered with ltchens, and told me
not to move from the spot until he
came for me. Then he went out of
sight with his basket, whistling. L felt
like crying for loneliness when 1 saw
him disappear, but the stiffness around
me inspired feeling of awe that made
me afraid to utter sound. And pres
emily L began to feel at home
in the wonderful place. There
were soft whisperings all about me,
that seemed like kind voices of unseen
friendly people, rustlings as of gossamer
garments.
Nothing would have tempted me
from my perch, for l had read of elves
and gnomes and fairies, and L firmly
believed in them. They always lived
in the woods; and, though / would
gladly have stepped inside fairy-ring,
just once, would not for worlds have
done so without first feeling my hand
fast in my brothers, else l was sure L
would never see home again. But he
did not believe in fairies, and soon
forgot that L did al / listened to the
song of the Polly-dancers.
For there were thousands and tens Of
thousands of them up in those great
trees, dancing with their feet out to the
sky, and making such music together,
low, sweet and solemn! / have never
forgotten how it sounded to me that
first time heard it, 1t seemed to tell
me that the world was larger and
lovelier place than had dreamed, and
that it would always have awaiting me
something grander than l could guess
OF course, L had no words for my feel
ings then; did not even know that L
was having feelings" at all. child
never does, until long afterward. But
the feelings come back, and we remem-
Der the moments when we began to be
acquainted with the world and with our
selves.
My brother and L walked home, two
merry, tired, matter-of-fact children.
He had left me only half hour or 80
alone; and he did not confide to me
until we were almost home that his
basket, which seemed brimful of
huckleberries, was really crammed with
fresh leaves, and that there was only
thin layer of berries on the top. ]
remember thinking what remarkable
boy he was to have conceived such a
! clever artifice. But he had not liked