Childrens Own Longfellow | Page 6

friendlier purpose Brings
these ships to our shores. Perhaps the harvests in England By untimely
rains or untimelier heat have been blighted,
And from our bursting
barns they would feed their cattle and children." "Not so thinketh the
folk in the village," said, warmly, the blacksmith, Shaking his head, as
in doubt; then, heaving a sigh, he continued:-- "Louisburg is not
forgotten, nor Beau Sejour, nor Port Royal, Many already have fled to
the forest, and lurk on its outskirts, Waiting with anxious hearts the
dubious fate of tomorrow.
Arms have been taken from us, and
warlike weapons of all kinds; Nothing is left but the blacksmith's
sledge and the scythe of the mower." Then with a pleasant smile made
answer the jovial farmer:-- "Safer are we unarmed, in the midst of our
flocks and our cornfields, Safer within these peaceful dikes, besieged
by the ocean,
Than our fathers in forts, besieged by the enemy's
cannon.
Fear no evil, my friend, and to-night may no shadow of
sorrow Fall on this house and hearth; for this is the night of the contract.
Built are the house and the barn. The merry lads of the village Strongly
have built them and well; and, breaking the glebe round about

them,
Filled the barn with hay, and the house with food for a
twelvemonth. Rene Leblanc will be here anon, with his papers and
inkhorn. Shall we not then be glad, and rejoice in the joy of our
children?" As apart by the window she stood, with her hand in her
lover's, Blushing Evangeline heard the words that her father had spoken,
And, as they died on his lips, the worthy notary entered.
III
Bent like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of the ocean, Bent, but not
broken, by age was the form of the notary public; Shocks of yellow hair,
like the silken floss of the maize, hung Over his shoulders; his forehead
was high; and glasses with horn bows Sat astride on his nose, with a
look of wisdom supernal.
Father of twenty children was he, and more
than a hundred
Children's children rode on his knee, and heard his
great watch tick. Four long years in the times of the war had he
languished a captive, Suffering much in an old French fort as the friend
of the English. Now, though warier grown, without all guile or
suspicion,
Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and
childlike. He was beloved by all, and most of all by the children;
For
he told them tales of the Loup-garou in the forest,
And of the goblin
that came in the night to water the horses, And of the white Letiche, the
ghost of a child who unchristened Died, and was doomed to haunt
unseen the chambers of children; And how on Christmas eve the oxen
talked in the stable,
And how the fever was cured by a spider shut up
in a nutshell, And of the marvellous powers of four-leaved clover and
horseshoes, With whatsoever else was writ in the lore of the village.

Then up rose from his seat by the fireside Basil the blacksmith,
Knocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly extending his right hand,
"Father Leblanc," he exclaimed, "thou hast heard the talk in the village,
And, perchance, canst tell us some news of these ships and their
errand." Then with modest demeanor made answer the notary public,--

"Gossip enough have I heard, in sooth, yet am never the wiser; And
what their errand may be I know not better than others. Yet am I not of
those who imagine some evil intention
Brings them here, for we are
at peace; and why then molest us?" "God's name!" shouted the hasty

and somewhat irascible blacksmith; "Must we in all things look for the
how, and the why, and the wherefore? Daily injustice is done, and
might is the right of the strongest!" But without heeding his warmth,
continued the notary public,-- "Man is unjust, but God is just; and
finally justice
Triumphs; and well I remember a story, that often
consoled me, When as a captive I lay in the old French fort at Port
Royal." This was the old man's favorite tale, and he loved to repeat it
When his neighbors complained that any injustice was done them.
"Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer remember,
Raised
aloft on a column, a brazen statue of Justice
Stood in the public
square, upholding the scales in its left hand, And in its right a sword, as
an emblem that justice presided Over the laws of the land, and the
hearts and homes of the people. Even the birds had built their nests in
the scales of the balance, Having no fear of the sword that flashed in
the sunshine above them. But in the course of time the laws