Mary at the Farm and Book of Recipes Compiled during Her Visit Part 11

Now like a holy star that spot s.h.i.+nes in this world's dull night.

What draws my eye to yonder spot-- That bench against the wall?

What holy mem'ries cl.u.s.ter there, My heart still knows them all!

How often sat my father there On summer afternoon; Hands meekly crossed upon his lap, He looked so lost and lone, As if he saw an empty world, And hoped to leave it soon.

At the conclusion of his recital, Mary heartily thanked the Professor, and, at his request, obediently seated herself at the old, but still sweet-toned cottage organ, and expressed her willingness to play any old-time songs or hymns requested, and saying, "I know Aunt Sarah's favorite," commenced playing, "My Latest Sun is Sinking Fast,"

followed by "This Old-Time Religion," "Jesus, Lover of My Soul," "One of the Sweet Old Chapters," "Silver Threads Among the Gold" and the sweet old hymn, "In the Summer Land of Song," by f.a.n.n.y Crosby.

At John Landis' request, she played and sang "Auld Lang Syne." "When You and I Were Young, Maggie," "Old Folks at Home" and "Old Black Joe."

Lucy Robbins, when asked for her favorites, replied; "In the Gloaming," "The Old, Old Home'" "The Lost Chord" and "Better Bide a Wee."

The Professor then asked his daughter Elizabeth to give them the music of a song from German Volkslied, or Folk Song, with the words of which all except Mary and Ralph were familiar. Professor Schmidt sang in his high, cracked voice to Elizabeth's accompaniment the words of the German song, beginning:

Du, Du liegest mir in Herzen Du, Du liegst mir in Sinn Du, Du machst mir viel Schmerzen Weist nicht wie gut ich Dir binn Ja, ja, ja, ja, Du weist nicht wie gut ich Dir bin.

The young folks all joined in the chorus. Fritz Schmidt asked Elizabeth to play "Polly Wolly Doodle" for little Pollykins, which Frit sang with gusto. Fritz then sang the rollicking German song, "Lauderbach," to an accompaniment played by Mary, and followed by singing "Johnny Schmoker," with appropriate gestures in the chorus commencing "My Pilly, w.i.l.l.y Wink, das is mein fifa," etc., ending with "My fal, lal, lal, my whach, whach, das ist mein doodle soch," which he emphasised by shrugging his shoulders, to the no small enjoyment of the young folks, who thought the silly, old German song no end of fun.

This was followed by a favorite college song, "Mandalay," by Fritz.

Then Elizabeth Schmidt played and sang a pretty little German song called "Meuhlen Rad," meaning The Mill Wheel, taught her by her mother.

MEUHLEN RAD.

In einen kuhlen grunde Da steht ein meuhlen rad; Mein libste ist versch wunden, Die dort gewhoned hat; Sie sat mir treu versprochen, Gab ihr ein ring dabei; Sie hat die treu gebrochen, Das ringlein sprang entzwei.

She translated it for the benefit of Ralph and Mary: "In a cool, pleasant spot, stands a mill. My loved one, who lived there, has disappeared. She promised to be true to me, and I gave her a ring. She broke her promise and the ring broke in two."

Fritz then caught his little sister Pauline around the waist and waltzed her to one end of the long room, saying: "Mary, play the piece, 'Put On Your Old Gray Bonnet,' and Pollykins and I will do the cakewalk for you."

Polly, who had become quite a proficient little dancer under her sister's teaching, was very willing to do her share in the evening's entertainment, and it was p.r.o.nounced a decided success.

Mary then said, "I'll play my favorite schottische, composed by our old friend, the Professor. I have not yet procured a copy of his latest piece of music, 'The Pa.s.sing of the Dahlias.' I think it is still with the publishers."

Mary, after playing "Rock of Ages," left the room to see about serving refreshments, when Elizabeth Schmidt took her place at the instrument.

After playing "The Rosary," she turned to Ralph, who had been greatly amused by the German songs on the program, all of which were quite new to him, and said: "What shall I play for you?"

He replied, "'My Little Irish Rose'--no, I mean 'The River Shannon.'"

"Don't you mean 'That Grand Old Name Called Mary?'" mischievously inquired Fritz Schmidt, who could not refrain from teasing Ralph, which caused a laugh at his expense, as all present were aware of his love for Mary. Elizabeth, to cover Ralph's confusion, quickly replied: "I'll play my favorite, 'The End of a Perfect Day.'"

The party was p.r.o.nounced a success, and broke up at a late hour for country folks. Before leaving, Mary's Uncle said: "Now, let's sing 'Home, Sweet Home,' and then all join in singing that grand old hymn, 'My Country, 'Tis of Thee,' to the new tune by our friend, the Bucks County Editor."

[Ill.u.s.tration: PALASADES OR NARROWS OF NOCKAMIXON]

CHAPTER XVIII.

A VISIT TO THE "PENNSYLVANIA PALISADES," AS THE "NARROWS" OF THE DELAWARE RIVER ARE CALLED.

All hailed with delight Aunt Sarah's proposal that the Schmidt and Landis families, on the Fourth of July, drive over to the Narrows, visit Aunt Sarah's old home at Nockamixon, and see the "Ringing Rocks"

and "High Falls," situated a short distance from the rocks, near which place picnics were frequently held. John Landis readily agreed to the proposed plan, saying, "The meadow hay and clover are cut, and I'll not cut the wheat until the fifth day of July."

The third of July was a busy day at both farm houses, preparing savory food of every description with which to fill hampers for the next day's outing. Small Polly Schmidt was so perfectly happy, at the thought of a proposed picnic, she could scarcely contain herself, and as her sister Elizabeth said, "did nothing but get in every one's way." Little Polly, being easily offended, trudged over to the Landis farm to see Mary, with whom she knew she was a great favorite.

The morning of the Fourth dawned bright and clear. Quite early, while the earth was still enveloped in a silvery mist, and on the lattice work of filmy cobwebs, spun over weeds and gra.s.s, dewdrops, like tiny diamonds, sparkled and glistened, until dissolved by the sun's warm rays, the gay party left home, for the "Palisades" were quite a distance from the farm, to drive being the only way of reaching the place, unless one boarded the gasoline motorcar, called the "Cornfield Express" by farmers living in the vicinity of Schuggenhaus Towns.h.i.+p.

There is something indescribably exhilarating about starting for an early drive in the country before sunrise on a bright, clear morning in midsummer, when "the earth is awaking, the sky and the ocean, the river and forest, the mountain and plain." Who has not felt the sweet freshness of early morning before "the suns.h.i.+ne is all on the wing" or the birds awaken and begin to chatter and to sing? There is a hush over everything; later is heard the lowing of cattle, the twitter of birds and hum of insect life, proclaiming the birth of the new day.

Pa.s.sing an uncultivated field, overgrown with burdock, wild carrots, mullein, thistle and milk weed, Mary alighted and gathered some of the pods of the latter, inclosing imitation of softest down, which she used later for filling sofa pillows.

"Look at those pretty wild canaries!" exclaimed Aunt Sarah, "yellow as gold, swinging on the stem of a tall weed."

"Professor Schmidt, can you tell me the name of that weed?" questioned Mary. "I have always admired the plant, with its large leaves and long, drooping racemes of crimson seeds.

"That," replied the Professor, "is a foreign plant, a weed called Equisetum from 'Equi,' a horse, and 'Setum'--tail. The country folk hereabout call it 'Horsetail.' It belongs to the Crptogamous or flowerless plants. There are only four specimens of this plant in America. I, too, have always greatly admired the plant."

The Professor was quite a noted botanist. There were few flowers, plants or weeds of which he was ignorant of the name or medicinal value. Another bird lazily picked seeds from the thistle blossoms.

"See," exclaimed Aunt Sarah, "one bird has a spear of gra.s.s in its mouth!"

"Yellow star gra.s.s," said the Professor, "with which to make a nest.

They never mate until the last of June, or first part of July. The tiny, little robbers ate up nearly all my sunflower seeds in the garden last summer."

"Well," replied Mary, "you know, Professor, the birds must have food.

They are the farmer's best friend. I hope you don't begrudge them a few sunflower seeds, I love birds. I particularly admire the 'Baltimore Oriole,' with their brilliant, orange-colored plumage; they usually make their appearance simultaneously with the blossoms in the orchard in the south meadow; or so Aunt Sarah tells me. I love to watch them lazily swinging on the high branches of tall trees. On the limb of a pear tree in the orchard one day, I saw firmly fastened, a long, pouch-like nest, woven with rare skill. Securely fastened to the nest by various colored pieces of twine and thread was one of smaller size, like a lean-to added to a house, as if the original nest had been found too small to accommodate the family of young birds when hatched. The oriole possesses a peculiar, sweet, high-whistled trill, similar to this--'La-la-la-la,' which always ends with the rising inflection."

Fritz Schmidt, who had been listening intently to Mary, gravely remarked, "An oriole built a nest on a tall tree outside my bedroom window, and early every morning, before the family arise, I hear it sing over and over again what sounds exactly like 'Lais Die Beevil!'

which translated means 'Read your Bible'."

"Even the birds are 'Dutch,' I believe, in Bucks County," said Fritz.

"I think these must be German Mennonites, there being quite a settlement of these honest, G.o.d-fearing people living on farms at no great distance from our place."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE Ca.n.a.l AT THE NARROWS]

As they drove along the country road, parallel with the Delaware River, just before reaching the Narrows. Mary was greatly attracted by the large quant.i.ties of yellow-white "sweet clover," a weed-like plant found along the Delaware River, growing luxuriantly, with tall, waving stems two to four feet high. The clover-like flowers, in long, loose racemes, terminating the branches, were so fragrant that, like the yellow evening primrose, the scent was noticeable long before one perceived the flowers. And, strange to tell, sweet clover was never known to grow in this locality until the seed was washed up on the bank of the river some ten or twelve years previous to the date of my story, when the Delaware River was higher than it was ever before known to be.

"The first place we shall visit," said Aunt Sarah, "will be my grandmother's old home, or rather, the ruins of the old home. It pa.s.sed out of our family many years ago; doors and windows are missing and walls ready to tumble down. You see that old locust tree against one side the ruined wall of the house?" and with difficulty she broke a branch from the tree saying, "Look, see the sharp, needle-shaped thorns growing on the branch! They were used by me when a child to pin my dolls' dresses together. In those days, pins were too costly to use; and look at that large, flat rock not far distant from the house!

At the foot of that rock, when a child of ten, I buried the 'Schild Krote Family' dolls, made from punk (when told I was too big a girl to play with dolls). I shed bitter tears, I remember. Alas! The sorrows of childhood are sometimes deeper than we of maturer years realize."

"Why did you give your family of dolls such an odd name, Aunt Sarah?"

questioned Mary.

"I do not remember," replied her Aunt. "Schild Krote is the German name for turtle. I presume the name pleased my childish fancy."

"Suppose we visit my great-great-grandfather's grave in the near-by woods. I think I can locate it, although so many years have pa.s.sed since I last visited it."