They were both chopping at a ba.s.swood tree-- Stroke followed after stroke most rapidly-- When, lo! a sudden blast of wind arose, WILLIAM perceived it, and withheld his blows; Looked up, saw danger, bade his father fly!

Reached a safe place himself, which was near by; The tree came down; he quickly then returned, And stood amazed as soon as he discerned His father's near escape from tree-crushed fate; He quite unconscious of his danger great.

There rested, just a foot above his head, A huge crook'd branch, that might have struck him dead, Had it not been for G.o.d's most watchful care, So plainly manifested to him there.

This wondrous mercy called forth grat.i.tude, And Love's warm glow fresh in their hearts renewed.

In cutting logs for barn, and drawing lumber, Our hero spent of days a goodly number.

Amongst deep snow, and with a slow ox-team, One thinks 'twould prove a damper to his dream.

Not so, however; though his food was scant, Of liking for the Bush he felt no want.

He and his brother scoured the woods around, Where'er 'twas likely straight logs could be found.

These cut, were left till snow had "settled down,"

When to the barn-site they with speed were drawn.

Thus pa.s.sed the hardest months of that hard season, And Sol's increasing warmth was hailed with reason.

The more, because that Sugar-time drew near, With its romantic scenes, to WILLIAM dear From what he heard the older Settlers say, So, for it he prepared without delay.

South of their home there grew a splendid lot Of n.o.ble maples, in a sheltered spot.

Convenient to this place, there also grew Some good black-ash, of which he chose a few From these he made small troughs to catch the sap, Whene'er the time should come the trees to tap.

A good pine tree he sought, with eager eyes, To form a store-trough, of most ample size.

Obtained a _gouge_, and next his _spiles_ prepared; For all the toil required he little cared.

"Good axe-men fifty small troughs make per day;"

So said old Woods-men, in a boasting way.

This roused ambition in his youthful breast, And he worked hard, scarce taking time for rest.

His pride was somewhat humbled when he found That he could make but _thirty_ each day round.

Yet courage took from this, that their's were made Of soft pine wood, which did their smartness aid.

'Tis March, and now the snow has settled down To half its former depth; Sol's beams have grown Sufficiently direct to make clear days Feel warm enough to raise the sap, which plays With life-renewing power, through all the trees; And yet, at night, 'tis cold enough to freeze.

The _Sugarer_ knows no time must now be lost To be successful; so he takes his post About the centre of the "Sugar-Bush,"

Whence he his labors can most freely push.

If wise, in lieu of gash he bores a hole With auger, at right height, in each tree's bole; Drives in his gouge a-slant, inserts his spile, Places a trough--fast lessening thus his pile.

At first, perhaps, the sap will scarcely flow; He heeds this not, but onward still doth go, Till every tree that he intends to tap Is quite prepared to yield its share of sap.

This done, without delay he now will fix His boiling place, and get two strong, forked sticks; These, well secured, with pole to reach across, For hanging kettles he is at no loss.

By this time, if the day continue warm, His work a.s.sumes a more than common charm.

The huge store-trough conveniently is placed, And he, to gather sap, begins in haste.

With pail upon each arm he moves along, O'er the soft snow, the n.o.ble trees among.

If _tunable_, perhaps a song he sings Of "Auld lang syne," or some more serious things, Which tends to make his work more easy seem, Or drive away some foolish, waking dream.

The Bush, if large, will need another band To tend the fire; and this one must command Sufficient knowledge of the Sugaring feat To guard the syrup from too great a heat.

He must mind, too, to fill the boilers up; And if he choose, he may ev'n take a sup Of maple-honey, whose delicious flavor More than repays their outlay and hard labor.

It now has reached that point when constant watch Must be kept o'er it, lest they spoil the batch.

New milk, or eggs, are used to clarify The saccharine juice, that it may truly vie For purity, with any sugar made, By those who have been brought up to the trade.

'Tis read now for straining; and as Eve Draws her dark curtains, we the Bush may leave, And follow him who bears his precious load, Well pleased, but tired, to his rude log abode.

Let's enter, unperceived, that we may see The Sugar take its next and last degree.

Through flannel bag the syrup now they strain, And the close texture does the dregs retain.

Now it is placed o'er quite a gentle fire, Till it a.s.sume that state which they require.

This, b repeated trial, they discover; When cool, it will "grain" well, and boiling's over.

I've now gone through this sugar-making process In business form; not giving, more or less, A hint of frolics which the young folks play, In sugaring-time, and after close of day.

My readers may imagine, if they choose, The fun that from such gatherings ensues; While I proceed to frame a harmless Song, Expressive of the _Sugarer's_ feelings strong, As he his most delightful work pursued, Midst leafless trees, in deepest solitude.

THE SUGAR-MAKER'S SONG.

Sol's warmth is increasing, the Frost-King is ceasing His hold on the sap of the trees; And having wrought steady, my troughs are all ready, So now I will eagerly seize My few rude tools, ere ardor cools, Nor heed the melting snow.

Some days of toil will never spoil The pleasure before me, I know.

I need no inviting, to work I delight in; Of such I have plenty to-day; The soft blush of Morning the scene is adorning, Then why should I longer delay?

The Maple tree will give to me Its bounty most profuse; One huge sweet cake I hope to make Each day, from the saccharine juice!

Last night's splendid freezing as truly most pleasing To those who the Sugar-Bush love; This morn's indications' need no explanations, As the day will abundantly prove!

Then haste, comrade, and bring your spade; To clear away the snow, That our wood-fire may soon acquire A beautiful, bright, ruddy glow.

Now, whilst I am tapping the trees with sweet sap in, Prepare you a good stock of wood; Be watchful in boiling, run no risk of spoiling By carelessness, prospects so good!

O, as I tap, out flows the sap In a small crystal stream!

I feel as gay, on this fine day, As I have in some youthful dream!

Now, comrade, each kettle of cast-iron metal Is full enough quite for a start; Pray keep the fire going, but yet not too glowing, For thus you will best act your part.

While I am off, guard the store-trough From cattle browsing near; This splendid "run" may soon be done-- The north wind is coming, I fear!

The syrup needs skimming. "Leave it to the women?"

Ah, comrade, it never will do!

They may mind the straining without much complaining, Yet think it is quite enough, too.

Now eventide, and frost beside, Bid us our labor cease; For home we'll make, and syrup take To them, as an offering of Peace!

The lively strain which I have just indulged, Must change full soon, if facts were all divulged.

For darker shades come o'er my hero's dream; But we must pause, ere we resume the theme.

And trust this sketch of rude Bush-life may prove Acceptable to those who Nature love.

Such retrospect has charms for one like me, Who has pa.s.sed through such scenes most happily.

Pardon me, Reader, if my unlearned song Should seem to you quite dull, and much too long;

The good of all I would most gladly seek, From purest motives, and with spirit meek-- Not counting Fame, so dazzling to men's eyes, But G.o.d's approval, as my wished-for prize.

Should this be mine, I shall be quite content, And deem my time and labor wisely spent.

BOOK VII.

THE ARGUMENT.--Address to Memory. Spring-time described. Thoughts and fancies connected with it. Builds a log barn. Spring employments.

Increase of trials. WILLIAM'S sickness. His Song on Christian Warfare.

Good to himself from its composition. Leaves Bush for Village again.

_Tinkers_ in the country. Thoughts and feelings in connection with it. Preaches in public under peculiar circ.u.mstances. Introduced to his future Father-in-law's family. Visits their house. Reception.

Description of his future Wife, and Sisters. Anecdote. Commences business. Visits the States to bin tools. Takes Niagara in his way.

Scenery above Lewiston. First sight of Rapids; of the Falls. Song to them. Conclusion.

O, Memory! What art thou? Whence thy power?

Thy wonders are displayed from hour to hour Of my existence. By thy powerful aid Sweet Childhood's scenes most truthfully are made To pa.s.s before me in such vividness, I stand amazed, and thy great skill confess!

By thy a.s.sistance, things long lost to view Spring forth surprisingly--both fresh and new.

I travel back through more than thirty years, With all their toils and pleasures, griefs and fears.

Go where I may, thou ever art with me, As Counsellor and Friend, dear Memory!