cold, and war the drunkenness of nations-perhaps will cease. At least, there will be no war of households. The husband and wife, drinking deep 225 of peaceful joy, - - a calm bliss of temperate affections, shall pass hand in hand through life, and lie down, not reluctantly, at its protracted close. To them, the past will be no turmoil of mad dreams, nor the future an eternity of such moments as follow 230 the delirium of the drunkard. Their dead faces shall express what their spirits were, and are to be, by a lingering smile of memory and hope. Ahem! Dry work, this speechifying; especially to an unpracticed orator. I never conceived, till 235 now, what toil the temperance lecturers undergo for my sake. Hereafter, they shall have the business to themselves. Do, some kind Christian, pump a stroke or two, just to wet my whistle. Thank you, sir! My dear hearers, when the world shall have 240 been regenerated by my instrumentality, you will collect your useless vats and liquor casks into one great pile, and make a bonfire in honor of the Town. Pump. And, when I shall have decayed, like my predecessors, then, if you revere my memory, let a 245 marble fountain, richly sculptured, take my place upon this spot. Such monuments should be erected everywhere, and inscribed with the names of the distinguished champions of my cause. Now listen, for something very important is to come next. 1 1 Regenerated, born again, made over new. There are two or three honest friends of mine-250 and true friends, I know, they are who nevertheless, by their fiery pugnacity1 in my behalf, do put me in fearful hazard of a broken nose or even a total overthrow upon the pavement, and the loss of the treasure which I guard. I pray you, gentlemen, 255 let this fault be, amended. Is it decent, think you, to get tipsy with zeal for temperance, and take up the honorable cause of the Town Pump in the style of a toper fighting for his brandy bottle? Or, can the excellent qualities of cold water be not other-260 wise exemplified than by plunging, slapdash, into hot water, and woefully scalding yourselves and other people? Trust me, they may. In the moral warfare which you are to wage and, indeed, in the whole conduct of your lives you cannot choose a 265 better example than myself, who have never permitted the dust and sultry atmosphere, the turbulence and manifold2 disquietudes of the world around me, to reach that deep, calm well of purity, which may be called my soul. And whenever I pour out 270 that soul, it is to cool earth's fever or cleanse its stains. One o'clock! Nay, then, if the dinner bell begins to speak, I may as well hold my peace. Here comes a pretty young girl of my acquaintance, with a large 275 1 Pugnacity, disposition to fight. 2 Manifold, of many sorts. stone pitcher for me to fill. May she draw a husband, while drawing her water, as Rachel1 did of old. Hold out your vessel, my dear! There it is, full to the brim; so now run home, peeping at your 280 sweet image in the pitcher as you go; and forget not, in a glass of my own liquor, to drink - "SUCCESS TO THE TOWN PUMP!" NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. QUESTIONS FOR STUDY This sketch represents the pump as talking. Would it have been as effective if it had been written as a direct description of the pump by the author? This sketch is an excellent temperance lesson. Is this because of any argument, or by reason of the feelings it rouses? Do you think it a good sketch? Why? Point out its attractive features. Which characters appear to you most vividly drawn? What does the pump say his duties are? (Lines 10-34.) To what different people does he address his remarks? (Lines 49, 62, 77, 85, 100.) Repeat the history of the pump. 1 Rachel, the wife of the patriarch, Jacob. The author doubtless has in mind Rebekah, Jacob's mother, who was met getting water at a well. See page 409. What is the meaning of lines 172-232? (Lines 250-272.) Write the imaginary remarks of some public institution, as a church bell, a street car, a telephone. PAUL H. HAYNE (1830-1886) Hayne is called the Laureate of the South. He is its most popular poet, with the exception of Poe. He was a native of South Carolina, but he spent much of his life in Georgia. His poems have the charm and lilt and sensuous qualities of the Elizabethan poets. MACDONALD'S RAID This poem illustrates well the stormy times upon the border between Scotland and England, before the two countries were united. I remember it well; 'twas a morn dull and gray, A thin drizzle of rain piercing chill to the soul, Let the carbines be loaded, the war harness ring, Then swift death to the Redcoats, and down with the King!" |