The Farmer's Daughter Cherry

THE Farmer quit what he was at,
The bee-hive he was smokin' :
He tilted back his old straw hat —
Says he, " Young man, you're jokin' !
OLordy ! — (Lord, forgive the swar) —
Ain't ye a cheeky sinner ?
Come, if I give my gal thar,
Where would you find her dinner ?

" Now, look at me ; I settl'd down
When I was one and twenty,
Me, and my axe and Mrs Brown,
And stony land a plenty.
Look up thar ! ain't that homestead fine?
And look at them thar cattle :
I tell ye, since that early time
I've fit a tidy battle.

" It kinder wrestles down a man
To fight the stuns and mire :
But I sort of clutch'd to thet thar plan
Of David and Goliar.
Want was the mean old Philistine
That strutted round the clearin' ;
Of pebbles I'd a hansum line,
And flung 'em, nothin' fearin'.

" They hit him square, right whar they ought ;
Them times I had an arm !
I lick'd the giant, and I bought
A hundred acre farm.
My gal was born about them days,
I was mowin' in the medder,
When some one comes along and says,
" The wife's gone thro' the shadder ! "

" Times thought it was God's will she went —
Times thought she work'd too slavin' ;
And for the young one that was sent,
I took to steady savin'.
Jest cast your eye on that thar hill
The sugar bush just tetches,
And round by Miller Jackson's mill,
All round the farm stretches.

"'Aint got a mind to give that land
To any snip-snap feller
That don't know loam from mud or sand,
Or if corn's blue or yaller.
I've got a mind to keep her yet ;
Last Fall, her cheese and butter
Took prizes ; sakes ! I can't forget
Her pretty pride and flutter.

"Why, you be off! her little face
For me's the only summer ;
Her gone, 'twould be a queer old place,
The Lord smile down upon her !
All goes with her, the house and lot,
You'd like to get 'em, very !
I'll give 'em when this maple bears
A bouncin' ripe-red cherry ! "

The Farmer fixed his hat and specks,
And pursed his lips together ;
The maple wav'd above his head,
Each gold and scarlet feather :
The Teacher's honest heart sank down,-
How could his soul be merry ?
He knew — though teaching in a town —
No maple bears a cherry.

Soft blew the wind ; the great old tree,
Like Saul to David's singing,
Nodded its jewelled crown, as he
Swayed to the harp-strings' ringing;
A something rosy — not a leaf —
Stirs up amid the branches ;
A miracle may send relief
To lovers fond and anxious !

O rosy is the velvet cheek
Of one 'mid red leaves sitting !
The sunbeams played at hide-and-seek
With the needles in her knitting.
"O Pa ! " —the farmer prick'd his ears ;
Whence came that voice so merry?
The Teacher's thoughtful visage clears,
" The maple bears a cherry ! "

The Farmer tilted back his hat :
" Well, gal — as I'm a human,
I'll always hold as doctrine that
Thar's nothin' beats a woman !
When crown'd that maple is with snow,
And Christmas bells are merry,
I'll let you have her, Jack — that's so !
Be sure you're good to Cherry ! "