And a squad of gray-clad hors.e.m.e.n Came thundering o'er the bridge, Where peaceful cows in the meadows browse, At the feet of the great Blue Ridge;

And on till they reached the village, That fair in the valley lay, Defenseless then, for its loyal men, At the front, were far away.

"Pillage and spoil and plunder!"

This was the fearful word That the Widow Brown, in gazing down From her latticed window, heard.

'Neath the boughs of the sheltering oak-tree, The leader bared his head, As left and right, until out of sight, His dusty gray-coats sped.

Then he called: "Halloo! within there!"

A gentle, fair-haired dame Across the floor to the open door In gracious answer came.

"Here! stable my horse, you woman!"-- The soldier's tones were rude-- "Then bestir yourself and from yonder shelf Set out your store of food!"

For her guest she spread the table; She motioned him to his place With a gesture proud; then the widow bowed, And gently--asked a grace.

"If thine enemy hunger, feed him!

I obey, dear Christ!" she said; A creeping blush, with its scarlet flush, O'er the face of the soldier spread.

He rose: "You have said it, madam!

Standing within your doors Is the Rebel foe; but as forth they go They shall trouble not you nor yours!"

Alas, for the word of the leader!

Alas, for the soldier's vow!

When the captain's men rode down the glen, They carried the widow's cow.

It was then the fearless Jamie Sprang up with flashing eyes, And in spite of tears and his mother's fears, On the gray mare, off he flies.

Like a wild young Tam O'Shanter He plunged with piercing whoop, O'er field and brook till he overtook The straggling Rebel troop.

Laden with spoil and plunder, And laughing and shouting still, As with cattle and sheep they lazily creep Through the dust o'er the winding hill.

"Oh! the coward crowd!" cried Jamie; "There's Brindle! I'll teach them now!"

And with headlong stride, at the captain's side, He called for his mother's cow.

"Who are _you_, and who is your mother?-- I promised she should not miss?-- Well! upon my word, have I never heard Of a.s.surance like to this!"

"Is your word the word of a soldier?"-- And the young lad faced his foes, As a jeering laugh, in anger half And half in sport, arose.

But the captain drew his sabre, And spoke, with lowering brow: "Fall back into line! The joke is mine!

Surrender the widow's cow!"

And a capital joke they thought it, That a barefoot lad of ten Should demand his due--and get it too-- In the face of forty men.

And the rollicking Rebel raiders Forgot themselves somehow, And three cheers brave for the hero gave, And three for the brindle cow.

He lived in the c.u.mberland Valley, And his name _was_ Jamie Brown; But it changed that day, so the neighbors say, To the "Bravest Boy in Town."

MRS. EMILY HUNTINGTON NASON.

THE WOLF AND THE GOSLINGS.

An old gray goose walked forth with pride, With goslings seven at her side; A lovely yellowish-green they were, And very dear to her.

She led them to the river's brink To paddle their feet awhile and drink, And there she heard a tale that made Her very soul afraid.

A neighbor gabbled the story out, How a wolf was known to be thereabout-- A great wolf whom nothing could please As well as little geese.

So, when, as usual, to the wood She went next day in search of food, She warned them over and over, before She turned to shut the door:

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"My little ones, if you hear a knock At the door, be sure and not unlock, For the wolf will eat you, if he gets in, Feathers and bones and skin.

"You will know him by his voice so hoa.r.s.e, By his paws so hairy and black and coa.r.s.e."

And the goslings piped up, clear and shrill, "We'll take great care, we will."

The mother thought them wise and went To the far-off forest quite content; But she was scarcely away, before There came a rap at the door.

"Open, open, my children dear,"

A gruff voice cried: "your mother is here."

But the young ones answered, "No, no, no, Her voice is sweet and low;

"And you are the wolf--so go away, You can't get in, if you try all day."

He laughed to himself to hear them talk, And wished he had some chalk,

To smooth his voice to a tone like geese; So he went to the merchant's and bought a piece, And hurried back, and rapped once more.

"Open, open the door,

"I am your mother, dears," he said.

But up on the window ledge he laid, In a careless way, his great black paw, And this the goslings saw.

"No, no," they called, "that will not do, Our mother has not black hands like you; For you are the wolf, so go away, You can't get in to-day."

The baffled wolf to the old mill ran, And whined to the busy miller man: "I love to hear the sound of the wheel And to smell the corn and meal."

The miller was pleased, and said "All right; Would you like your cap and jacket white?"

At that he opened a flour bin And playfully dipped him in.

He floundered and sneezed a while, then, lo, He crept out white as a wolf of snow.

"If chalk and flour can make me sweet,"

He said, "then I'm complete."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

For the third time back to the house he went, And looked and spoke so different, That when he rapped, and "Open!" cried, The little ones replied,