POEM 



By COL. S. B. SUMNER, of Bridgeport, Ct. 



I'm no farmer ; not a syllable from lipe of mine shall' drop 



To accelerate or ma^rnify a solitary crop ; 



And I only come, with careless rhyme, to greet these friends of mine, 



The acquaintances of years ago, the neighbors of "lang syne." 



And 'tis singular— I came to sing,— but all things sing to me. 

 Olden times come wafted to my ear from everv rock and tree ; 

 And I seem but Echo, as I stand within this native vale. 

 And each object in the landscape round repeats an olden tale. 



But how things have changed! go back with me the four and thirty years, 

 To the time when this good enterprise began with doubts and fears ; 

 'Twas a curious coincidence ; the railway train, you know, 

 First arrived in town that day, and brought its crowds to see the show. 



And the "show" was scattered all around— a little here and there, 

 Oxen here, sheep over yonder, and confusion everywhere : 

 Butter, cheese, and patch-work counterpanes and what not, stored in halls. 

 While along the street were improvised seductive oyster stalls. 



let modern cookery essay its best exploits in vain. 



For those oysters, and that gingerbread we'll never taste again. — 

 So delicious, and so toothsome, and done up so very "brown," 

 Titillating the olfactories of all the boys in town! 



How we used to hoard our shillings up, for weeks and months ahead. 

 To invest in those bivalvnus plants, and buy that gingerbread! 

 And how some have made their fortrnes since, who, all those years ago. 

 Peddled sweets and peanuts to the folks who came to "''•attle show!" 



1 remember, to the rearward of the stone church, used to stand 

 Half a dozen gorgeous warrons, with their fancy goods on hand. 

 And some very flippant orators their merchandise would cry, 

 O'er-persuading by their eloquence, the rustic passers by. 



One I think of in particular,— most charming auctioneer— 



Whom T knew I might anticipate with each returning year : 



Whose financial sacritices, if the half he said was true. 



Must have made him bankrupt, if alive : I'd like to 'put him through ! ' 



Then, the man who showed the learned pig, and donkey with three legs, 

 And the cripple, who displayed the ball that knocked away his pegs ; 

 And the everlasting soap man, nevermore to be forgot, 

 Who could cleanse your coat or conscience from a microscopic spot ! 



'Twas in those days. Major Rosseter- methinks I see him now — 

 Something over 70 years of ase, walked proud behind the plow ; 

 While before, at least a hundred stalwart oxen werr; aligned. 

 And His Excellency, Governor Briggs, and magnates marched behind! 



And in front of all, surrounded by enthusiastic boys, 



That new village brass band vexed the air with complicated noise, 



And escorted all the people, to the semblances of tunes. 



To the meeting where should be dispensed the sjjeeches. songs and— spoons! 



From beginnings such as these, the institution thrived and grew. 

 For its founders, as the sequel proved, built wiser than they knew ; 

 I might tell you all the history in lengthy diatribe, 

 As, through many a year, as I recall, I played the role of scribe. 



What intense debates we used to have, when first awoke desire 

 Some distinctive habitation for our purpose to acquire ; 

 And how manv croakers shook their heads, and said it wouldn't pay* 

 Who shall find their sage prognostications all at fault to-day! 



Well, we bought the meadow, built the fence, and shanties reared at first. 

 But to be supplanted shortly, as the cost was reimbursed. 

 By appliances substantial, and more fitted to display 

 The increasing fruits of industry, each annual holiday. 



