M^ 11 11 . COx-\P7\!M10t HdWTH OLD HO F\S WOKTH. SeT AN me Ri^cD STICK Tfrnir i9 Wj- <>0 eac^on The One Hoss Shay PVith its Companion Poems How the Old Horse Won the Bet & The Broomstick Train By Oliver Wendell Holmes V^ M'lth Illustrations by Howard Pyle Boston and N^ew York Houghton, Mifflin and Company Che fiitersiDe \5»rcgs, CambriDge M DCCC XCII Cop3'right, 1858, 1877, 1886, and 1890, By OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. Copyright, i8qi. By HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CQ All rights reserved. The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U.S.A. Electrotj'ped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co. My publishers suggested the bringing together of the three poems here presented to the reader as being to some extent alike in their general character. " The Wonderful One-Hoss Shay " is a perfectly intelligible conception, whatever material difficulties it presents. It is conceiv- able that a being of an order superior to human- ity should so understand the conditions of mat- ter that he could construct a machine which should go to pieces, if not into its constituent atoms, at a given moment of the future. The mind may take a certain pleasure in this picture of the impossible. The event follows as a logi- cal consequence of the presupposed condition of things. There is a practical lesson to be got out of the story. Observation shows us in what point 4 Preface any particular mechanism is most likely to give way. In a wagon, for instance, the weak point is where the axle enters the hub or nave. When the wagon breaks down, three times out of four, I think, it is at this point that the accident oc- curs. The workman should see to it that this part should never give way ; then find the next vulnerable place, and so on, until he arrives logi- cally at the perfect result attained by the dea- con. Unquestionably there is something a little like extravagance in " How the Old Horse won the Bet," which taxes the credulity of experienced horsemen. Still there have been a good many surprises in the history of the turf and the trot- • ting course. The Godolphin Arabian was taken from ig- noble drudgery to become the patriarch of the English racing stock. Old Dutchman was transferred from between 5 Preface the shafts of a cart to become a champion of the American trotters in his time. " Old Blue," a famous Boston horse of the early decades of this century, was said to trot a mile in less than three minutes, but I do not find any exact record of his achievements. Those who have followed the history of the American trotting horse are aware of the won- derful development of speed attained in these last years. The lowest time as yet recorded is by Maud S. in 2.o8f. If there are any anachronisms or other in- accuracies in this story, the reader will please to remember that the narrator's memory is liable to be at fault, and if the event recorded interests him, will not worry over any little slips or stum- bles. The terrible witchcraft drama of 1692 has been seriously treated, as it well deserves to be. 6 Preface The story has been told in two large volumes by the Rev. Charles Wentworth Upham, and in a small and more succinct volume, based upon his work, by his daughter-in-law, Caroline E. Upham. The delusion commonly spoken of, as if it belonged to Salem, was more widely diffused through the towns of Essex County. Looking upon it as a pitiful and long dead and buried superstition, I trust my poem will no more offend the good people of Essex County than Tarn O'Shanter worries the honest folk of Ayrshire. The localities referred to are those with which I am familiar in my drives about Essex County. O. W. H. July, 1 89 1. ^^ List of Illvstrations THE DEACON'S MASTERPIECE. i The Deacon Frontispiece. Half Title The Masterpiece " A chaise breaks down "' . " The Deacon inquired of the village folk ' " Naow she "11 dew "' . " She was a wonder, and nothing less " . " Deacon and deaconess dropped away " " Eighteen Hundred" .... "Fifty-Five"' ..... " Its hundredth year " . " A general flavor of mild decay "' " In another hour it wall be worn out " . " The parson takes a drive "' " All at once the horse stood still "' " Then something decidedly like a spill" " Just as bubbles do when they burst '-' . " End of the wonderful one-hoss-shay " HOW THE OLD HORSE WON THE Half Title BET 26 27 28 29 s List of Illustrations " The famous trotting ground " . " Many a noted steed " . " The Sunday swell " . " The jointed tandem" . . . . " So shy with us, so free with these " . " The lovely bonnets beamed their smiles ' " I '11 bet you two to one " . " Harnessed in his one-hoss-shay " The sexton ... led forth the horse " " A sight to see " " They lead him, limping, to the track " " To limber out each stiffened joint " " Something Uke a stride " . " A mighty stride he swung ■' " Off went a shoe " . . . . " And now the stand he rushes by " " And off they spring "... " They follow at his heels " . . . " They 're losing ground " . " He 's distanced all the lot " . " Some took his time " " Back in the one-hoss shay he went " " A horse ca7t trot, for all he 's old " . THE BROOMSTICK TRAIN. Half Title " Clear the track "".... " An Essex Deacon dropped in to call " " The old dwellings " . " The small square windows " " Dark, dim, Dante-like soHtudes " 31 32 "hZ 34 35 36 38 40 41 42 43 45 47 48 50 51 52 52 53 54 56 57 58 59 60 61 61 63 List of Illtistratio7is " Norman's Woe "' " The Screeching Woman of Marblehead " . " It is n't fair " " You 're a good old — fellow — come, let us go " " See how tall they 've grown "' . " They called the cats " " The Essex people had dreadful times " . " The withered hags were free "... " A strange sea-monster stole their bait "' . " They could hear him twenty miles "' " They came ... at their master's call " . " You can hear her black cat's purr " " Catch a gleam from her wicked eye " Tail Piece €l)e SDcacon'^ ^a^tct^ictt Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss- shay, That was built in such a logical way It ran a hundred years to a day, And then, of a sudden, it — ah, but stay, I '11 tell you what happened without delay, Scaring the parson into fits, 12 The Deacons Masterpiece Frightening people out of their wits, — Have you ever heard of that, I say ? Seventeen hundred and fifty-five, Georgius Secundiis was then alive, — Snuffy old drone from the German hive ; That was the year when Lisbon-town Saw the earth open and gulp her down. And Braddock's army was done so brown, Left without a scalp to its crown. It was on the terrible earthquake-day That the Deacon finished the one-hoss-shay. Now in building of chaises, I tell you what, There is always somewhere a weakest spot, — In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or thill, In panel, or crossbar, or floor, or sill, 13 /\ cKai/e breaks down but cioefn't wear out " The Deacons Masterpiece In screw, bolt, thoroughbrace, — lurking still, Find it somewhere you must and will, — Above or below, or within or without, — And that 's the reason, beyond a doubt, A chaise breaks down, but does n't wear out But the Deacon swore (as Deacons do. With an *' I dew vum," or an '' I tell j/eo?//') He would build one shay to beat the taown 'n' the keounty 'n' all the kentry raoun' ; It should be so built that it couldii break daown ! — ** Fur," said the Deacon, " 't 's mighty plain Thut the weakes' place mus' stan' the strain ; 'n' the way t' fix it, uz I maintain, Is only jest T' make that place uz strong uz the rest." '5 The Deacons Masterpiece So the Deacon inquired of the village folk Where he could find the strongest oak, That could n't be split nor bent nor broke,- The Deacon s Masterpiece That was for spokes and floor and sills ; He sent for lancewood to make the thills ; The crossbars were ash, from the straightesi trees, The panels of whitewood, that cuts like cheese, But lasts like iron for things like these ; The hubs of logs from the '' Settler's ellum," — Last of its timber, — they could n't sell 'em, Never an axe had seen their chips, And the wedges flew from between their lips Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips ; Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw, Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too, Steel of the finest, bright and blue ; Thoroughbrace bison-skin, thick and wide ; 17 The Deacon s Masterpiece Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide Found in the pit when the tanner died. That was the way he ''put her through." — ''There!" said the Deacon, "naow she'] dew." Do ! I tell you, I rather guess She was a wonder, and nothing less ! 5 ri««ji ¥^ Q;: /^ ..^<^' She was a wonder. rj>5^ The Deacon s Masterpiece Colts grew horses, beards turned gray, Deacon and deaconess dropped away. Children and grandchildren — where were they ? But there stood the stout old one-hoss-shav As fresh as on Lisbon-earthquake-day ! 1800 Eighteen hundred ; — it came and found The Deacon's Masterpiece strong and sound. Eighteen hundred increased by ten ; — " Hahnsum kerridge " they called it then. Eighteen hundred and twenty came ; — Running as usual ; much the same. Thirty and forty at last arrive, And then come fifty, and fifty-five. 1855 / 1 Little of all we value here Wakes on the morn of its .hundredth year Without both feeling and looking queer. In fact, there 's nothing that keeps its youth, So far as I know, but a tree and truth. (This is a moral that runs at large ; Take it. — You 're welcome. — No extra charge.) 22 First of November, — the Earthquake- day. — There are traces of age in the one-hoss-shay, A general flavor of mild decay, But nothing local, as one may say. 23 The Deacons Masterpiece There could n't be, — for the Deacon's art Had made it so like in every part That there was n't a chance for one to start. For the wheels were just as strong as the thills, And the floor was just as strong as the sills, And the panels just as strong as the floor. And the whippletree neither less nor more, And the back-crossbar as strong as the fore, And spring and axle and hub encorey And yet, as a w/iolc, it is past a doubt In another hour it will be worn out ! The Deacons Masterpiece First of November, 'Fifty-five ! This morning the parson takes a drive. Now, small boys, get out of the way ! Here comes the wonderful one-hoss-shay, Drawn by a rat-tailed, ewe-necked bay. '' Huddup ! " said the parson. — Off went they. '■^v.^. #"/'|^'r^ v^S^ ^^i^-3^ The parson was working his Sunday's text, - Had got \o fifthly, and stopped perplexed At what the — Moses — was coming next. All at once the horse stood still, Close by the meet'n'-house on the hill. — First a shiver, and then a thrill, Then something decidedly like a spill, — 26 ^' £j 1 Ken. fornefl-iing decidedly like a fpi The Deaco7is Masterpiece And the parson was sitting upon a rock, At half-past nine by the meet'n'-house clock, — Just the hour of the Earthquake shock ! — What do you think the parson found. When he got up and stared around ? The poor old chaise in a heap or mound, As if it had been to the mill and ground ! You see, of course, if you 're not a dunce, How it went to pieces all at once, — All at once, and nothing first, — Just as bubbles do when they burst. V-1. The Deacons Masterpiece End of the wonderful one-hoss-shay. Logic is logic. That 's all I say. Howtlje OldHorfe Won tlje BET Dedicated by a C ontrlhutor totljc Collegian 1830 To the Editor of f/?f Ad vocat e 1876 i^otu tl)c mtx I$ot0t Won tlje 25ct 'T WAS on the famous trotting-ground, The betting men were gathered round From far and near ; the *' cracks " were there Whose deeds the sporting prints declare : The swift g. m., Old Hiram's nag, The fleet s. h., Dan Pfeiffer's brag, How the Old Horse Won With these a third — and who is he That stands beside his fast b. g. ? Budd Doble, whose catarrhal name So fills the nasal trump of fame. ^^i- ^■V*: mmr,~i ^S There too stood many a noted steed Of Messenger and Morgan breed ; Green horses also, not a few ; Unknown as yet what they could do ; And all the hacks that know so well The scourgings of the Sunday swell. 32 t-./S I •JII' f ^ ^s—* ^IS^ i^Kefunday fwell How the Old Horse Won Blue are the skies of opening day ; The bordering turf is green with May ; The sunshine's golden gleam is thrown On sorrel, chestnut, bay, and roan ; The horses paw and prance and neigh, Fillies and colts like kittens play, And dance and toss their rippled manes Shining and soft as silken skeins ; Wagons and gigs are ranged about, And fashion flaunts her gay turn-out ; Here stands, — each youthful dream, — The jointed tandem, ticklish team ! Jehu's How the Old Horse Won And there in ampler breadth expand The splendors of the four-in-hand ; On faultless ties and glossy tiles The lovely bonnets beam their smiles ; (The style 's the man, so books avow ; The style 's the woman, anyhow;) From flounces frothed with creamy lace Peeps out the pug-dog's smutty face, Or spaniel rolls his liquid eye, Or stares the wiry pet of Skye ; — O woman, in your hours of ease So shy with us, so free with these ! ; j^"^ 6\ ' / / / t YoureagooJoId-felloNV- come, let u^ go" f/ The Broomstick Train " Here are your broomsticks," an imp replied. " They 've been in — the place you know - — so long They smell of brimstone uncommon strong ; But they 've gained by being left alone, — Just look, and you '11 see how tall they 've grown." — " And where is my cat ? " a vixen squalled. " Yes, where are our cats ? " the witches bawled, And began to call them all by name : As fast as they called the cats, they came *. There was bob-tailed Tommy and long-tailed Tim, And wall-eyed Jacky and green-eyed Jim, And splay-foot Benny and slim-legged Beau, And Skinny and Squally, and Jerry and Joe, 70 The Broomstick Train And many another that came at call, — It would take too long to count them all. All black, — one could hardly tell which was which. But every cat knew his own old wdtch ; And she knew hers as hers knew her, — Ah, did n't they curl their tails and purr ! No sooner the withered hags were free Than out they swarmed for a midnight spree ; I could n't tell all they did in rhymes, But the Essex people had dreadful times. 2 he withered hags were free The Broomstick Train The Swampscott fishermen still relate How a strange sea-monster stole their bait ; How their nets were tangled in loops and knots, And they found dead crabs in their lobster- pots. Poor Danvers grieved for her blasted crops, And Wilmington mourned over mildewed hops. A blight played havoc with Beverly beans, — It was all the work of those hateful queans ! A dreadful panic began at " Pride's," Where the witches stopped in their midnight rides. And there rose strange rumors and vague alarms 'Mid the peaceful dwellers at Beverly Farms. 73 /iftrange fea- monOcr ftole their bait" The Broomstick Train Now when the Boss of the Beldams found That without his leave they were ramping round, He called, — they could hear him twenty miles, From Chelsea beach to the Misery Isles ; The deafest old granny knew his tone Without the trick of the telephone. t? _f The Broomstick Train ''Come here, you witches! Come here!' says he, — " At your games of old, without asking me ! I '11 give you a little job to do That will keep you stirring, you godles^ crew ! " They came, of course, at their master's call, The witches, the broomsticks, the cats, and all; y . >^ W^T'^ The Broomstick Train He led the hags to a railway train The horses were trying to drag in vain. '* Now, then," says he, '' you Ve had your fun, And here are the cars you 've got to run. The driver may just unhitch his team, We don't want horses, we don't want steam You may keep your old black cats to hug, But the loaded train you 've got to lug." Since then on many a car you '11 see A broomstick plain as plain can be ; On every stick there 's a witch astride, — The string you see to her leg is tied. She will do a mischief if she can, But the string is held by a careful man, And whenever the evil-minded witch Would cut some caper, he gives a twitch. 77 As for the hag, you can't see her, But hark ! you can hear her black cat's purr, And now and then, as a car goes by, You may catch a gleam from her wicked eye. Often you 've looked on a rushing train, But just what moved it was not so plain. It could n't be those wires above. For they could neither pull nor shove ; Where was the motor that made it go You could n't guess, bitt nozo yoit know, 78 '^alcK a gleam fi'om her wicked eye '' The Broomstick Train Remember my rhymes when you ride again On the rattling rail by the broomstick train ! The End (-