ONCE THE BARN WAS FULL OF HAY

This story made a special appeal to the school children because the school building was originally a stable in MacDougal Alley. They had even witnessed this evolution from stable to garage. The children have seemed to enjoy the rhythmic language without any sense of strangeness.

ONCE THE BARN WAS FULL OF HAY

Once the barn was full of hay, Now 'tis there no more.

I wonder why the hay has left the barn?

The old horse stood in the stall all day.

He wanted to be on the streets.

He was strong, was this old horse.

He was wise, was this old horse.

And he was brave as well.

And he was proud, oh, very proud to be strong and wise and brave!

He wanted to be on the streets, And he wondered what was wrong That now for ten long days No one had to come harness him up.

Old Tom, the aged driver, seemed to have gone away, And only the stable boy had given him water and oats, And poked him hay from the loft above.

And as the old horse thought of this He reached up high with his quivering nose, And pushing his lips far back on his teeth, Pulled down a mouthful of hay.

But as he stood chewing the hay Again he wondered and wondered again Why n.o.body needed him, Why n.o.body wished to drive.

For almost every day Old Tom would harness him up To a dear little, neat little, sweet little carriage And down the alley they'd go and around to the front of the house.

And there he'd stand and wait, this dear, this steady old horse, Flicking the flies with his tail, Till the door of the house would open wide And out would come his mistress dear with the baby in her arms, And running along beside Would come her little boy, the little boy he loved so well, Who gave him sugar from his hand and patted his nose and neck.

And into the carriage they all would get, His mistress and baby and little boy.

And Tom would tighten the reins a bit And off down the street they'd go, Clopperty, clopperty, clopperty, clop.

When he was out on the streets,-- This dear old, steady old horse,-- He knew just what to do, when to go and when to stand still.

And when with clang! clang! clang!

Fire engines shrieked down the street He'd stand as still as a rock So his mistress and her baby were never frightened a bit!

And the little boy laughed and watched and laughed!

And when the great policeman, so big in the middle of the street, Held up his hand, The old horse stopped But watched him close For the first wave of the hand that would tell him to go ahead.

Always the first to stop, Always the first to go, The old horse loved the streets.

Now he wanted the streets.

And while he stood and chewed his hay and wondered what was wrong, Suddenly there came a rumble Of noises all a-jumble, A quaking and a shaking A terrifying tremble Making the old horse quiver and stand still!

It came from the alley, His own peaceful alley Where he knew every horse, every coach, every wagon!

b.u.mp, thump, like a lump of lead jolting, Bang, whang, like a steam engine bolting, Down it came crashing Down it came smashing, Till it stopped with a snort at his own stable door!

The old horse pulled at his halter And strained to look round at the door.

Out of the tail of his eye he could see The doors, the doors to his very own barn, Swing wide under the crane where they hoisted the hay.

And there in the alley, oh what did he see This old horse with his terrified eye?

A monster all shiny and black With great headlights stuck way out in front, With bra.s.s things that grated and groaned As the driver pulled this thing and that.

And there on the back of this monster Sat old Tom Who had driven him now for fifteen long years.

And out of the mouth of the monster, as there opened a neat little door, Stepped his mistress dear With her eager little boy and the baby in her arms.

And the poor horse trembled to see those that he loved so well So near this terrible monster.

"'Twill eat them all!" he thought.

And for the first time in all his brave and prudent life The old horse was frightened.

He raised his head, He spread his nostrils, He neighed with all his strength.

His mistress dear Would surely hear, Would hear and understand!

He wanted to save her, save the boy and save the little baby From this terrible ugly beast Snorting there so near!

And his mistress dear, she heard.

But did she understand?

She came and laid her hand upon his quivering side.

"Poor dear old horse," she said, "Your day is gone and you must go!"

What could she mean?

What could she mean?

What could she mean?

"You have been strong; but not so strong as is our new machine!

You have been brave; but see this thing, this thing can know no fear!

You have been wise; but this machine is like a part of Tom.

He pulls a lever, turns a wheel and this machine obeys!

Poor dear old horse Your day is gone And now you too must go!"

So that was what she meant!

So that was what she meant!

So that was what she meant!

The old horse heard but how could he understand?

How could he know that she had said They wanted him no longer?

How could he know that this big monster, this new automobile Was going to do his work for them And do it better than he!

He knew that something was wrong.

He was puzzled and sad and frightened.

With head drooped low and feet that dragged He let old Tom untie his rope And lead him from the stall.

For one short moment as he pa.s.sed the shiny automobile He straightened his head and widened his nostrils And snorted and snorted again.

But there within the monster, lying safe upon a seat, He saw the little baby Laughing and all alone.

And the old horse was puzzled, was puzzled and frightened too.

Then old Tom pulled him gently through the wide swinging doors And led him down the alley.

Past the stables with other horses, Past the grooms and stable boys, Down the alley he knew so well Went the old horse for the last time.

For he never came back again.

They had no need of him; they liked their auto better!

Down the alley he slowly went And as he turned into the street below One last long look he gave to the stable at the end, One last long look at his mistress dear with the baby in her arms, One last long look at the little boy waving and calling: "Goodbye, goodbye".

One last long look, and then he was gone!

Once the barn was full of hay: Now 'tis there no more.

I wonder why the hay has left the barn?

THE WIND

This story is composed entirely of observations on the wind dictated by a six-year-old and a seven-year-old cla.s.s. Every phrase (except the one word "toss") is theirs. The ordering only is mine.