The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1884-05-24
THE QUAKER BLACKSMITH

much-honored Quaker, broad-shouldered
smithy,
Tvewatched, many years, from my windows
and yard:
And heard his blows ringing to words quaint
and pithy,
But never grumble, though times might
be hard.
While others are sleeping, his forge-sparks
He talks to himself while his iron grows red.
And wonders that some folks are all the time
Ger dolorous times and the high price of
bread.
No horse is so vicious but he can subdue him.
His magnetic touches few beasts can resist /;
With whoa, my good pony." he'll fearlessly
shoe him.
With never blow from a cudgel Or fist.
a faithful assistant through twenty long
winters
Has kept at his post till the nine o clock bell
His dingy old shop with its sides all in splin-
ters
Has long been his mint though a tumble
down shell.
His wife. years ago, did the neighborhood
sewing.
Made dresses, trimmed bonnets and caught
the stray dimes;
Content if the pile in her cash-box was grow
ing;
For thriftlessness stands, by her creed,
Two sons and a daughter, John, James and
Sophia,
Five years, more or less, have been women
and men;
You'd take either son for priest or friar,
Or booK-worm, just out from his attic or den.
The books they have read, with the contents
wcll-treaSured,
The poems they've made and the ballads
they've sung,
If piled up together could scarcely be meas
ured.
Or titles be told by a street-venders tongue.
OF London and Paris and other grand cities,
Ihey We seen all the wonders and know
them by heart,
And brought home their hiSt'r and legends
and dttieS,
AS well as Improvement in manners and art.
But how will our Quaker dispose of these
scholars,
Just home from Japan and the land of the
Nile,
To get "A return for the thousands of dollars
He's paid for diplomas, agriculture and
style?
OF preachers and doctors he finds we've a
plenty,
Professors have long been a drug in the
mart;
Of lawyers and writers there's scarce one in
twenty
Who owns a snug cottage, entire or in part.
Mechanics need vigor and well.hardened
muscle;
And farming would starve such etTeminate
things;
In business they'd fall in the turmoil and
hustle,
Poor pigmies, the victims of sharpers and
rings.
And yet they must eat, and, while father has
money,
They'll sit at his table. as worthless as dudes,
And live, like all drones, on the working bee S
honey,
Unmndful of all the worlds sorrows and
ieuds.
But little Sophia. as trim as daisy,
with fair education and good Quaker sense,
Ger Primroses novels has never gone crazy,
Or uttered one sentence of sham or pretense.
AT home in the sick room, the paror or
kitchen,
The mothers best helper in all kinds of
work:
Can bric-a-brac fashion of MOSES and lichen,
Or revel in rugs like the most skilful Turk.
While many maiden is sleeping, or dreaming
Or scores of young hearts she's intending to
break,
Our maiden is busy in mixing and steaming.
Or baking nice biscuit and broiling the steak.
I know "A young farmer who does daytime
wOOing.
Who bitches his team to the old Quaker's
post,
Pretending that one of his horses needs shoe
ing,
But fits in and out of the house like a ghost.
His time is too precious to spend much in
He owes ON his farm half thousand or
more:
With little for pleasure and nothing for sport
ing,
He'll soon lift the mortgage and pay ev'ry
score.
e. ". Locke, in Youths Companion.