For his eye was looking down, And he danced the corn about In his nose-bag, till the brown Grains of corn were tumbled out; And I fancy that he said, "Eat it up, young Speckle-Head!" The driver then came back again, He climbed into the heavy dray; And he tightened up the rein, Cracked his whip and drove away. But when the horse's ribs were hit, The sparrow did not care a bit. THE APPLE TREE I was hiding in the crooked apple tree, Scouting for Indians, when a man came; I thought it was an Indian, for he Was running like the wind.--There was a flame Of sunlight on his hand as he drew near, And then I saw a knife gripped in his fist. He panted like a horse; his eyes were queer, Wide-open, staring frightfully, and, hist! His mouth stared open like another eye, And all his hair was matted down with sweat. I crouched among the leaves for fear he'd spy Where I was hiding, so he did not get His awful eyes on me, but like the wind He fled as if he heard something behind. THE APPOINTMENT Tree! you are years standing there, Gripping tight to the side of the hill, And your branches are spread on the air, While you stand so sad and so still, And you do not complain When you're wet with the rain, Though I think you have often been ill. I would like (but it could not be done, So you must not keep me to my word) To take you away when the sun Goes down, and the breezes are stirred, And hug you in bed With myself, till you said That to sleep on a hill was absurd. O beautiful tree! when the night Is dark, and the winds come and scold, I would love then to cuddle you tight, For I fear you will die of the cold; But you are so tall, And my bed is so small, That it could not be done, I am told. My mother is calling for me, And the baby is wanting to play, I shall have to go home now, you see, But I'll give you a kiss if I may: I would stay if I could, But a child must be good, So I must, darling tree, go away. I will leave you my pencil and slate, And this little pin from my frock; But now I must go, for it's late, And my mother is rattling the lock: So good-bye, darling dear, I'll come back, never fear, In the morning at seven o'clock. CHECK The night was creeping on the ground; She crept and did not make a sound Until she reached the tree, and then She covered it, and stole again Along the grass beside the wall. I heard the rustle of her shawl As she threw blackness everywhere Upon the sky and ground and air, And in the room where I was hid: But no matter what she did To everything that was without, She could not put my candle out. So I stared at the night, and she Stared back solemnly at me. WHEN I WAS YOUNG