Tales in Verse for Young People :: :: University of Virginia Library

In the old town in which I live,
The event occurred of which I mean to speak;
To know what town that is, ye need not seek;
No further information shall I give.

In this town is an annual fair,
Such as, I will be bound to say,
May not be met with everywhere.
Then all the people look extremely gay,
And all the children have a holiday:
Then there are cows, and sheep, and pigs to sell,
And more than I can tell;
And booths are ranged in rows,
Full of all sorts of pretty things,
Glass necklaces, and copper rings,
And pins, and gloves, and bracelets, combs, and boxes,
And then there are such quantities of shows,
All crammed with lions, elephants, and foxes!
And for the little people, dolls and balls,
Horses and coaches, whips and penny-trumpets:
And many different sorts of stalls,
Filled with sweet cakes, and ginger-bread, and crumpets;
And then there is the learned pig,
And the great “Mister Bigg,”
The famous English Patagonian;
And the gray pony that can dance so well;
And then there is the wee, wee man,
That in seven languages can read and spell,
Though scarcely bigger than a lady's fan;

And crowds of people staring in amaze,
And thronging twenty different ways,
And pushing you against the wall,
Till you can scarcely keep your legs at all.
Well, unto this same fair
There came, the night before,
A famous dancing bear,
And several monkeys on his back he bore;
But with the monkeys we have nought to do—
The bear alone concerns our story.
Now as night's curtain had begun to drop,
And they had travelled far,
The master of the bear resolved to stop,
Just where the town lay stretching out before ye,
Until the morning, at the Golden Star;
So, without more ado,
The bear was led
Into a little shed,
And housed, as they thought, for the night.
Bruin, however, did not like his quarters,
And, without asking if the thing were right,
Or sifting an important business through,
As reasonable people do,
Walked out; nor did mine hostess nor her daughters,
Nor guest of any sort behold him go.

By this time it was dark enough;
And Bruin walked into a common rough,
That lay behind the Golden Star;
And there he wandered up and down—
When thus it came to pass,
A baker from the town
Was carrying faggots for the morning;
And he had not gone far
Before he saw what he supposed an ass,
In the dusk night-fall, shaggy, wild, and black;
So, without any warning,
He threw the faggots on his back,
Thinking it was a lucky chance
To meet with such a beast!
Bruin, thus taken by surprise,
Began to prance
And growl, and stare with fiery eyes.
The man, who never in the least
Expected such a spirited retort,
Stopped for a moment short;
Then sprang along o'er smooth and rough,
Expecting that a thing
So wild and gruff
Upon his back would make a sudden spring,
And eat him at a mouthful, sure enough!

Poor Bruin had no such intent,
But on he went,
Down to a neighbouring lane,
Picking his way as best he could.
But in my second part I will explain
The nature of the place whereon he stood.

II. PART II.

'Twas on the confines of that common hoary,
Which, like a wall, stood up against the lane—
Because the common was much higher ground—
So that the houses standing there
Seemed at the back only one single story,
Though, in the front, they all of them were twain.
I'm very much afraid this will be found
An explanation rather dark and lame;
But as you read, you'll understand it better,
If you attend, at least, unto the letter.
But let us now unto the bear:—

'Twas to the back of such a house he came,
Built 'gainst this higher ground;
So that he found,
Without being in the least to blame,
His nose against a window-grate
Which opened straight
Into a well-stored larder.
In this small house there dwelt another baker,
A famous man for penny-pies;
Of cakes and ginger-bread a noted maker,
And sausages likewise.
No wonder let it be, therefore,
That there was such a store
Of legs of mutton, dainty pork,
And pies just ready for the knife and fork.
These things just standing under Bruin's nose,
You may suppose
Would make him long to have a little taste;
So, through the grate,
Headlong he plunged—a lumbering weight—
And many jingling tins displaced.
Poor Bruin never thought, not he—
The window was just at the ceiling—
That he should fall so far and heavily,
And, after all, be taken up for stealing!

The baker being awakened by this din,
Blunder on blunder, tin on tin,
Thought twenty thieves were breaking in!
He was a tall and sturdy fellow,
And to his only son
Most stoutly he began to bellow—
“Jack, get the double-barrelled gun,
A host of thieves are in the pantry—
Twenty they are, or more;
Do you go out and keep strict sentry,
And shoot the first who ventures out,
The while I guard the door!”
As soon as said the thing was done—.
Jack took the double-barrelled gun,
And stood before the broken grate:
“Ah, thieves!” said he, with lusty shout,
“If you come out,
I'll scatter twenty bullets round about!”
The bear, so frightened at this sad disaster,
And thinking Jack must be his master,
Lay quite stock-still:
Meanwhile the baker stood before,
And double-locked the pantry-door.
“There, there!” said he, “I've got them fast,
I've caught the rogues at last!”

All this poor Bruin heard,
And much he marvelled at his case,
Thus prisoned in that trap-like place;
Yet so the baker scolded if he stirred,
And so much did he fear his master's stick,
Heavy and thick,
He dared not reconnoitre, nor look out,
Lest something worse should come about;
Therefore he lay quite still,
Though it was very much against his will.
Jack was outside, a watchful sentinel,
He noted all that happened in the night:
He heard the asses braying on the common;
He saw the earliest streak of morning light;
He heard the watchmen in the town,
With their dull voices, passing up and down,
And the Exchange clock, with its heavy bell,
The hours with quarters tell:
He saw the earliest passing countrywoman;
And now a man, and now a boy he saw;
And now the morning grew so keen and raw,
He wished his task was o'er;
And now he heard the clocks strike four;
And now—oh, welcome sight—
He, in the Golden Star, beheld a light!

While Jack to notice all these things was able,
His father made
A very decent sort of barricade
Of chair and table;
So that the foe, if he had been inclined
To issue forth, might find
The thing impracticable.
This done, soon as the clock struck four,
The baker left his door;
But all so silently,
That the trapped enemy
Might still suppose him watching at his post,
As powerful as a host.
Down to the Golden Star in haste he ran,
And there he found them bustling all about,
Fetching and carrying, mistress, maid, and man,
Though 'twas so early, going in and out.
To them he told the adventures of the night,
And all were in a great affright;
And all indignant at the theives' audacity:
“Is it not wonderful?” said they,
“But in the present day,
All men, even theives, have an improved capacity!”
This said, with sudden haste
They called up every guest,

Carter and cattle-driver, groom and jockey,
And the bear's master, wild and black;
Until the baker thought he was most lucky
To muster such a party at his back.
Unto the house they came, and pulled down, first,
The formidable barricade;
And then they grew afraid,
Lest out the dreadful enemy should burst.
At length each heart grew bolder,
And o'er his neighbour's shoulder
Each held a lighted candle; and, en masse,
They rushed into the place where Bruin was!
There, skulking in his shaggy coat, they saw
A frightful something with a paw!
“Up, up with you at once!”
Shouted poor Bruin's master in his ears;
And he, who was no dunce,
And had so many fears,
And knew that voice so well,
Sprang in a moment on his hinder legs,
Just like a dog that begs,
And danced a hornpipe to a miracle!
Half angry was the baker, seeing thus,
That after all this fuss,
The thieves were nothing but a dancing bear!

And yet he took it in good part,
And tried to laugh with all his heart,
And said it was a joke most capital!
And through all the fair
'Twas told at every booth and every stall,
What fancy Bruin had for dainty store;
And many people gave him ginger-bread;
And he with buns and penny-pies was fed,
So that he never fared so well before!