Classic Poem

I

'T WAS Coronation day!
Down in our village all was hustle,
The oldest folk got in a bustle,
Tumbling in each other's way.
One week ago in solemn talk,
Like geese around a cabbage stalk,
Our elders gathered, firmly bent
To dignify the great event;
Some wanted lamps by night to blaze,
Some hankered monuments to raise,
Others were for a peal of bells,
Or dreamed of temperance hotels.
But Eli Baker firmly rose,
With ruddy cheeks and purple nose,
Amid that hubble-bubble crew,
Declaring lamps would never do
'Coz them what left the pubs at night
Would rather manage wi'out a light;
And all the other cranks, he said,
They wanted standing on their head;
If 'twas to be a day of joy,
Then let 'em feast, both man and boy!
Beef and ale!
That's the tale!
Beef by the round and beer by the pail.

II

The labourers shouted and threw up their hats,
Whilst the blue-ribbons stared at each other like rats,
Declaring as they shouldn't never agree
To the taking of anything stronger than tea;
But when it was over they settled it fair
That each one should have what he wanted — or dare,
And so on this day of all days in the year
We was jolly and happy and full of good cheer,
Including that marvel to all of his neighbours —
What never had rested before from his labours —
What never was known for to chatter or dawdle —
You know who I mean — " Cheap " Henry Caudle.
He took the prizes everywhere —
The meanest man in Lincolnshire,
For even " Cunning Jim " , they say,
Could learn from Henry any day:
Henry it was that fitted stock
With spectacles of greenish glass,
Then gave 'em straw, the artful cock,
Them thinking they was eating grass!
Of all the mean uns in the land
Our Henry was the master-hand;
He'd never smiled nor joked afore,
His face was like a cellar door,
His legs were thin, his lips as well.
His clothes they hung ... they nearly fell!
But now he fairly opened out,
He laughed and talked and jumped about,
Till all the folk were sore perplexed
And wondered what would happen next.

III

The day wore on as it begun,
With sports and games and heaps of fun;
The oldest women could be seen
A-dancing on the village green;
The band was there with merry jig,
While " Sailor " Barlow won a pig
By climbing up the greasy mast —
He fell and fell, but won at last;
The beef was good, the beer was prime,
We'd never had so grand a time;
And when the dusk began to fold,
Then everybody, young and old,
Drew up towards Joe Bristow's Mill,
Above the village, on the hill,
The highest point of ground by far,
Where, round a barrel full of tar,
The straw and wood were piled on high,
Ready to leap across the sky.

IV

The dusk crept up without a sound,
And owls were screeching all around,
As, standing with a ready match,
" Cheap " Henry, studying his watch,
Had pushed himself to be the first,
While Eli Baker, fit to burst,
Was shoved into the second row;
Poor chap! he simply had to go,
For Henry stood the king confessed,
And all astonished gave him best
To see him so transmogrified.
He glared about with awful pride
Upon the neighbours gaping round,
Who stared at him without a sound.
He saw the village down below.
His stacks all lying in a row
(His farm was close beside the Mill:
No floods could touch him on that hill);
His pride was awful to behold,
It turned poor Eli Baker cold. ...
The hour came — he closed his watch,
And, with a flourish, struck the match.

V

Across the dark from place to place
The fires were spreading, now, apace,
Till soon they saw the encircling night
With winking points of flame alight;
Across the Fen, along the Wold,
That fiery signal swiftly rolled,
Around, about, it flew, until
It finished up on Lincoln's hill.
But over all the fires about
Ours was the best, beyond a doubt;
We stood upon a point of ground
Higher than anything around,
" We beeat 'em all, we lick the lot. "
Says Henry, getting rather hot;
" We larn 'em how, a-course we do.
" As good as any other two. "
He rushed about, he plied his rake,
He shouted for the dead to wake,
And when he spied a sturdy boy
Who carried in his arms with joy
A faggot for to feed the beacon,
Says he, as solemn as a deacon,
" Come, lads, you do as he's begun.
" And there's a penny for every one. "
The boys ran off, and soon returned
Like laden bees; the faggots burned,
While all the neighbours, hushed and still,
Saw miracles upon that hill,
As Henry gave his pence away!
A sight for Coronation day!
A thing enough to raise the dead.
His nephew cried, " You're off your head, "
But Henry didn't care a bit;
" Come on, my boys, we'll give 'em it,
" We'll show 'em how, we'll top the lot.
" And make a blaze to cook their pot " .

VI

They did!
They did!
The stars were hid!
That bonfire blazed and flared away
Until the night was turned to day,
Till all the other fires about
Were clean out-faced and dwindled out.
And when they all was dead and still
Ours flared away beside the Mill,
Whose shadow jumping on the ground
Showed sails that moved, but never round;
And when at last we left to sup,
Still Henry raked the ashes up;
Whilst all the neighbours, fairly dazed,
Could talk of nought but Henry — crazed.

VII

Uprising with a dreadful yawn,
" Cheap " Henry scrambled out at dawn
To see his men were prompt at work,
Afraid as some of them might shirk.
Like one who's had a fearful dream
And wakes remindful of his scream,
He had a vague idea of horror,
But couldn't guess on that to-morrow —
What could have clouded him with sadness —
His craze had flitted with his madness;
He only knew that something wrong
Had overcome his head — so strong —
And straight into his yard he sped,
Then, all at once, he stopped like dead.

His stack of firewood, gathered, prime,
Provision for the winter-time,
Each faggot neatly trimmed and tied,
Carefully laid and tinder-dried,
A sight for sluggards lacking care,
A lesson clear ...
Oh, Heaven! ... Where ...?
He blinked his eyes —
It wasn't there!