The Wind one morning sprang up from sleep, Saying, " Now for a frolic! now for a leap! Now for a madcap galloping chase!
I"ll make a commotion in every place!"
So it "swept with a bustle right through a great town,Cracking the signs and scattering down Shutters; and whisking, with merciless squalls, Old women"s bonnets and gingerbread stalls. There never was heard a much lustier shout, As the apples and oranges trundled about;And the urchins, that stand with their thievish eyes For ever on watch, ran off each with a prize.
Then away to the fields it went, blustering and humming, And the cattle all wondered what monster was coming. It plucked by the tails the grave matronly cows,And tossed the colts" manes all over their brows;Till, offended at such an unusual salute,
They all turned their backs, and stood sulky and mute.
So on it went, capering and playing its pranks,Whistling with reeds on the broad river"s banks, Puffing the birds as they sat on the spray,Or the traveller grave on the king"s highway.
It was not too nice to hustle the bags
Of the beggar, and flutter his dirty rags;
" Twas so bold, that it feared not to play its joke With the doctor"s wig or the gentleman"s cloak. Through the forest it roared, and cried gaily,"Now, You sturdy old oaks, I"ll make you bow!"And it made them bow without more ado,
Or it cracked their great branches through and through.
Then it rushed like a monster on cottage and farm, Striking their dwellers with sudden alarm,And they ran out like bees in a midsummer swarm;There were dames with their kerchiefs tied over their caps,To see if their poultry were free from mishaps;The turkeys they gobbled, the geese screamed aloud, And the hens crept to roost in a terrified crowd; There was rearing of ladders, and logs were laid onWhere the thatch from the roof threatened soon to be gone.
But the Wind had swept on, and had met in a laneWith a schoolboy, who panted and struggled in vain;For it tossed him and twirled him, then passed-and he stoodWith his hat in a pool and his shoes in the mud!
Then away went the Wind in its holiday glee, And now it was far on the billowy sea;And the lordly ships felt its staggering blow, And the little boats darted to and fro.
But, lo! it was night, and it sank to rest
On the sea-birds" rock in the gleaming west, Laughing to think, in its frolicsome fun, How little of mischief it really had done.
- William Howitt
Author.-William Howitt (1792-1879) was born in Derbyshire, England. He and his wife, Mary, led a long and happy literary life, writing poems, ballads, and historical and juvenile tales. From 1852 to 1854, at the height of the gold-fever, William Howitt was in Australia. Many members of the Howitt family live here at present.
General Notes.-Quote the wind"s adventures (1) on awaking, (2) inthe town, (3) in the field, (4) on the river-bank, (5) in the forest,(6) among the farms, (7) in the lane, (8) on the sea, (9) in the west. Note the joyous, frolicking sound of the poem. What real mischief did Mr. Wind do?