Classic Poem

I

He entered and said: " Good even! good folk,
And thanks for last time I came in. "
Then he sat himself down by the chimney nook, —
What with tramping and want he looked thin.

At his feet lay his gun and his traps, with a string
Of wild-fowl from heath and from moor.
He picked up a wood-grouse with wide-spreading wing:
" Take that for my welcome before: "

The glow of the fire, as he basked in its heat,
On the hunter's dark form redly fell,
While the good-wife was cutting off collops of meat,
Bits of sausage and pudding as well.

" He's tired, he's come a long way, the poor man;
Fall to, then, and take what you get.
There's a drop — thank the nixie! — to follow it then;
To-night is the bitterest yet! "

Right soon fell a hush in the low-humming sound,
As grandmother's wheel ceased to spin,
And the boys and the girls gathered quietly round
To listen when Malm should begin.

But Malm was not merry, as erst he would be,
Nor sang as when last he was there;
He was silent and surly, 'twas easy to see,
With no gay lying stories to spare.

II

" Hark ye! Malm, " the good-wife bade then,
" Where's the maiden that you had then
When you came here last? She carried
All your game upon her back;
She, poor thing! you said you'd married,
Called her wife, good-lack!

" Shy as woodland hare methought her,
But she followed, when you brought her,
At your heels as hound his master;
Like your horse your load she bore, —
Work enough had she to last her,
Aye, good soul! and more. "

" You mean Biddy? — Nay, 'twas never;
Blow on blow I had to give her.
Or with Christie was I bedding?
Many a wife I've had and lost;
In the woods there I've a wedding
Every day almost.

" As I came by Elfdale sedges
Over Whitsand on the ledges,
There was someone caterwauling,
Crying, " Oh, dear Malm, come in!"
Lo! it was my wife a-calling,
Or my once-had-been.

" So I stopped and gave the hussy
My last coin and said: " Get busy!
If you want another, beg it,
Or if that won't do, why steal.
Wipe your face, dear. I must leg it;
I'm in haste. Farewell!"

" As I jogged up Fryken highway,
There a girl stood on a by-way;
In a rag I saw her gather
Twins, and in a voice I knew:
" Sweety tootsies, look at father!"
Screamed she. — My wife, too!

" While on Rottne I was standing,
All the woodland slope commanding,
Came a troop of brats to plague me,
With two jades. Dumb-struck I stood,
When they all began to beg me,
Weeping, for some food.

" They were folk from o'er the border,
Gypsies of the lowest order,
Black as sin were all the rout, then.
So my answer to them was:
" If you're hungry, go without, then! —
That's what father does." "

" Malm's old stories! " said the mother.
" Well, go on and tell another
Story of your favorite pastime,
Partly false and partly true.
Tell us, though, of her that last time
You had here with you. "

" I did lie, " said Malm, and faltered,
And his whole expression altered;
Tense he stared in indecision
At the fire, then o'er his brow
Drew his hand, as if a vision
Rose before him now.

" This is truth, then, not one tittle
More or less, about my little
Last wife, if you'll hear about it;
Eli-lita was her name, —
If you don't believe, why, doubt it,
Still the truth's the same.

" Yes, she was my dog, I taught her
How to drudge on meal and water;
Was my little mare so slender,
Worked and starved and froze with me;
And my bed-mate, and my tender
Little sweetheart she.

" She was kind through all my tasking,
Gave me all things for the asking,
Never said an ill word of me,
And if I grew harder, why
All the better she would love me, —
That was her reply.

" But you know how one misuses
Love like that, and most abuses
What he cares for most of all things,
Greedily from her alone
Taking great and taking small things
Until all is gone.

" Tell me, have I never hounded
Some poor red-deer when 'twas wounded;
Have I seen how soft it eyed me,
Though by then 'twas sorely bled,
How it suffered, and beside me —
Just like that! — was dead?

" So did Eli-lita, turning,
Look at me with pain and yearning,
When — like that! — she sank down quickly,
Lay where she had stood,
And her breath was rattling sickly,
From her mouth came blood.

" When the blood began to thicken
And the flow began to weaken,
She was white as chalk, but bluer,
She whose cheek was never red;
When I stooped to whisper to her,
She was dead.

" By a fir-tree's roots I laid her
In the wilderness and made her
Of the mould and twigs a cover
'Mid the needles and the moss,
Cutting in the bark thereover
Letters and a cross.

" But that's long since now, and no man
Should keep snivelling for a woman
Till his lungs go bad, I'm thinking —
Old-maids' foolishness! that's all.
Give me summat strong for drinking!
Thanks to you, and skoal! "