The Little Black-Eyed Rebel
by Will Carleton (1845
� 1912) |
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A boy drove into the city, his wagon loaded down
With
food to feed the people of the British-governed town;
And
the little black-eyed rebel, so innocent and sly,
Was
watching for his coming from the corner of her eye.
His face looked broad and honest, his hands were brown and
tough,
The clothes he wore upon him were homespun,
coarse, and rough;
But one there was who watched him, who
long time lingered nigh,
And cast at him sweet glances
from the corner of her eye.
He drove up to the
market, he waited in the line;
His apples and potatoes
were fresh and fair and fine;
But long and long he
waited, and no one came to buy,
Save the black-eyed
rebel, watching from the corner of her eye.
"Now who
will buy my apples?" he shouted, long and loud;
And "Who
wants my potatoes?" he repeated to the crowd;
But from
all the people round him came no word of a reply,
Save
the black-eyed rebel, answering from the corner of her eye.
For she knew that 'neath the lining of the coat he wore
that day,
Were long letters from the husbands and the
fathers far away,
Who were fighting for the freedom that
they meant to gain or die;
And a tear like silver
glistened in the corner of her eye.
But the
treasures--how to get them? crept the question through her
mind,
Since keen enemies were watching for what prizes
they might find:
And she paused a while and pondered,
with a pretty little sigh;
Then resolve crept through her
features, and a shrewdness fired her eye.
So she
resolutely walked up to the wagon old and red;
"May I
have a dozen apples for a kiss?" she sweetly said:
And
the brown face flushed to scarlet; for the boy was some what
shy,
And he saw her laughing at him from the corner of
her eye.
"You may have them all for nothing, and
more, if you want," quoth he.
"I will have them, my good
fellow, but can pay for them," said she;
And she
clambered on the wagon, minding not who all were by,
With
a laugh of reckless romping in the corner of her eye.
Clinging round his brawny neck, she clasped her fingers
white and small,
And then whispered, "Quick! the letters!
thrust them underneath my shawl!
Carry back again _this_
package, and be sure that you are spry!"
And she sweetly
smiled upon him from the corner of her eye.
Loud the
motley crowd were laughing at the strange, ungirlish freak,
And the boy was scared and panting, and so dashed he could
not speak;
And, "Miss, _I_ have good apples," a bolder
lad did cry;
But she answered, "No, I thank you," from
the corner of her eye.
With the news of loved ones
absent to the dear friends they would greet,
Searching
them who hungered for them, swift she glided through the
street.
"There is nothing worth the doing that it does
not pay to try,"
Thought the little black-eyed rebel,
with a twinkle in her eye. |
By Will Carleton (1845 � 1912)
Listed June 4, 2012
Note:
(Between Sept. 26, 1777, and June 17, 1778)
The
heroine's name was Mary Redmond, and she lived in
Philadelphia. During the
occupation of that town by the
British, she was ever ready to aid in the secret delivery of
the letters written home by the husbands and fathers
fighting in the Continental Army. |
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