OCR Text |
Show tJO-good Plow 10 And in the tree young Alvin sees a bird All red of feather, mouth all wide and singin, And Alvin, he calls out, "I know your voice!" But the wind-awaker, he says not a word, Enough for him that his breezy song is heard, And he darts from tree to tree, so coy he's wingin, And Alvin sighs at the come-out of his choice, Not altogether sure how the thing occurred, For the choice was hard. And while he lies a-restin in the grove, Up comes young Verily Cooper, shy and smilin. "Are you the one that they call by the name of Alvin?" "There's many who's called that name. And who are you?" "I'm a man who wants to learn what you know of makin. They call me Verily Cooper; I work in staves, I join them watertight, each edge so true, But never a keg. I made that was proof from leakan Or safe from breakin." Alvin answers, "What do I know of barrels?" Verily says, "And what did you know of plows?" And Alvin laughs, and he says, "Ain't you a marvel," And up he hops and gives his hand a shake. "Verily Cooper, there's things in a man that shows, And here at the river's edge we'll plow the earth And together make whatever we fix to make And be the midwives at the barley's birth And weigh our worth." So they cut an oak and together hewed the wood To make the plowframe strong and slow of flex, And they set the plow in place and bound it good And never mind a halter for an ox, For this was a livin plow, of tremblin gold. And when the work was done, they marked their field, And side by side they reached and took ahold, And the plow, it leaped, it plunged, it played like a child So free and wild. Verily and Alvin, they hung on; There wasn't a hope of guidin the plow along. It was all they could do to keep it to the land; Other than that they couldn't do a thing. And at last, with bleedin blisters on their hands, With all the strength of their arms a-gone, They tripped and fell together on the dirt. Aside from the blisters, the only thing a-hurt Was Alvin's shirt. |