observing wheels revolving in the river, evidently driving some machinery which they cannot discover conveniently, as they are driving pumps low down in the quarry beds. Good building stone as well as stone for the perpetual kilns are obtained convenient to two lines of railway depots and sidings.
Here in the river you descry
Wheels revolve to keep quarries dry;
Elsewhere such pumps are drove by steam,
But here by current of the stream.
Easy it the water carries,
And leaves dry the beds of quarries;
Continuous at perpetual kiln,
You withdraw lime and with stone fill.
Fight in a Cave
This is a tale of a hunter brave,
He sought for refuge in a cave
To escape a furious storm,
And he built fire to keep him warm.
Dry leaves and twigs made fire and smoke,
Which wild beasts’ fury did provoke;
By its growl he knew ’twas bear,
But bruin’s fury he would dare.
For he determined not to run,
And he gave it a shot from gun,
But this the bear it did enrage,
Resolved in war for to engage.
For it came shambling along,
To have revenge for suflering wrong;
Hunter with the butt of rifle
Struck and stunned him a trifle.
Once more he aimed, it glanced on rock,
And he was left with broken stock;
Now the bear it doth hunter seize,
And gives him many a hug and squeeze.
The struggle is so close for life,
The hunter cannot use his knife;
But the nimble hunter bold
Soon made the bear relax his hold.
By a sudden spring bear he rolls,
With his nose in burning coals;
His nostrils full of fire and smoke,
Poor Brvin it doth almost choke.
The hunter now doth use his knife,
Stabs bear in heart and ends the strife;
So hunter he did victory win,
And spoils of battle in grand skin.
This is no age for mystery,
But full of eventful history;
Not a time for stupid dreaming,
When the lightning it is gleaming.
A brighter light doth now surpass,
And throws in shade once favored gas;
Now it is not an idle dream,
Predicting greater power than steam.
But perhaps it is not wise
For us to philosophise,
As we might get in water deep,
Or find a hill for us too steep.
Some think it is almost a crime
To write a simple kind of rhyme
That every one can understand;
They love a style is lofty, grand.
Which no one can comprehend;
Without beginning or an end,
And if it only is obscure,
To them it is a proof full sure.
The authors have a mighty mind,
And to philosophy inclined;
They adore the metaphysical,
And humble thoughts do them appal.
But though our style it may seem rude,
We love for to be understood;
And though we have no skill nor art,
We hope to reach some honest heart.
Our old style walk will soon he gone,
In place of wood wo will have stone;
And water works from lofty tower
Blessings on the town will shower.
The Rescue
In a deep cleft among the hills
There flows one of those mountain rills;
In fine weather a scene of charms,
But in a storm ’tis all alarms.
And woe befalls those seek to trudge,
And strive to cross its rustic bridge;
The roadway it becomes deep rut,
And spot is named the babies’ cut.
Minister’s only child had died,
And the poor father mourned and sighed,
And found no rest when child was buried,
Grave robbers then mourners worried.
About the middle of first night
The preacher woke in a great fright,
For there raged a furious storm,
And he thought he saw the form
Of his sweet child alive in grave.
Shall he the rain aod lightning brave
Or humble submit and kiss the rod,
Obedient to the will of God?
Shall he who others tries to fill
With resignation to God’s will,
Forget the precepts he has taught,
And at once set them all at naught?
But he rushed to burial ground,
And to his wonder there he found
Men with a light who quick as dart,
Did throw a bundle in their cart.
Then at a furious race they drove,
But clergyman impelled by love
For his dear child, did quickly follow,
And o’ertook them in the hollow,
Where lightning flashed and thunder roared,
And the stream with fury poured;
Here the preacher shouted wild,
“Give me back my darling child.”
The horse affrighted plunged in river,
And the men were lost forever;
The minister he heard the crash
As ’gainst the broken bridge they dash.
But though a great storm did prevail,
Yet he heard a sad human wail,
Sound coming from the bridge’s rack,
He climbed o’er timber and found sack.
Then his heart got reconciled,
Sack proved to hold his darling child;
The parents’ joy who can tell,
To find their child alive and well.
Child had been buried in a swoon,
Next danger was that it might drown;
But Providence on parents smiled,
And they were blessed with their child.
Lady Ann
A Highland clan were in despair
Because their chief he had no heir,
And even the women of the clan,
Enchantments tried ’gainst Lady Ann.
They consulted prophets and seers,
And they at last did quell their fears;
If the clan would pilgrimage pay
To Saint Botham’s Shrine on Christmas Day.
If they but visited this shrine,
Then would a miracle divine
Make Chief and Lady happy pair,
And they would be bless’d with an heir.
The day arriv’d, it chill’d their blood,
For river was a mighty flood,
And through the storm they must trudge,
Then cross o’er a dangerous bridge.
Though great dimage the flood had made,
They reached the shrine, devotions paid;
And homeward now they wend their way
To cross again the flooded Spey.
Bridge was built of rough long plank,
Which halfway reached from bank to bank;
But while crossing this flooded stream
Lady Ann gave a sudden scream.
For Carlock push’d her in the river,
And she was borne away forever;
So at least old ruffian thought,
Though wicked schemes oft come to naught.
Superstitious was old Carlock;
He believed in witch and warlock,
And that oft times departed spirit
Would its home again inherit.
One night he sees a horrid sight,
It was Lady Ann dress’d in white;
To ruffian a deadly shock,
He flung himself from castle rock.
The chief at first o’ercome with fear,
Then to his heart press’d Lady dear,
Whom he had nivnn up for lost,
And thought at first she was a ghost.
But the kind miller of Clack Clam,
With the great flood had lost his dam;
Himself, and son, and wife and daughter,
All were working near the water.
Quite suddenly the miller’s son
Ran to the house to
