Friday Afternoon

TO WILLIAM MORRIS PIERSON     [1868-1870]     Of the wealth of facts and fancies         That our memories may recall,     The old school-day romances         Are the dearest, after all! - .     When some sweet thought revises         The half-forgotten tune     That opened "Exercises"         On "Friday Afternoon."     We seem to hear the clicking         Of the pencil and the pen,     And the solemn, ceaseless ticking         Of the timepiece ticking then;     And we note the watchful master,         As he waves the warning rod,     With our own heart beating faster         Than the boy's who threw the wad.     Some little hand uplifted,         And the creaking of a shoe: -     A problem left unsifted         For the teacher's hand to do:     The murmured hum of learning -         And the flutter of a book;     The smell of something burning,         And the school's inquiring look.     The bashful boy in blushes;         And the girl, with glancing eyes,     Who hides her smiles, and hushes         The laugh about to rise, -     Then, with a quick invention,         Assumes a serious face,     To meet the words, "Attention!         Every scholar in his place!"     The opening song, page 20. -         Ah! dear old "Golden Wreath,"     You willed your sweets in plenty;         And some who look beneath     The leaves of Time will linger,         And loving tears will start,     As Fancy trails her finger         O'er the index of the heart.     "Good News from Home" - We hear it         Welling tremulous, yet clear     And holy as the spirit         Of the song we used to hear -     "Good news for me" (A throbbing         And an aching melody) -     "Has come across the" - (sobbing,         Yea, and salty) "dark blue sea!"     Or the paean "Scotland's burning!"         With its mighty surge and swell     Of chorus, still returning         To its universal yell -     Till we're almost glad to drop to         Something sad and full of pain -     And "Skip verse three," and stop, too,         Ere our hearts are broke again.     Then "the big girls'" compositions,         With their doubt, and hope, and glow     Of heart and face, - conditions         Of "the big boys" - even so, -     When themes of "Spring," and "Summer"         And of "Fall," and "Winter-time"     Droop our heads and hold us dumber         Than the sleigh-bell's fancied chime.     Elocutionary science -         (Still in changeless infancy!) -     With its "Cataline's Defiance,"         And "The Banner of the Free":     Or, lured from Grandma's attic,         A ramshackle "rocker" there,     Adds a skreek of the dramatic         To the poet's "Old Arm-Chair."     Or the "Speech of Logan" shifts us         From the pathos, to the fire;     And Tell (with Gessler) lifts us         Many noble notches higher. -     Till a youngster, far from sunny,         With sad eyes of watery blue,     Winds up with something "funny,"         Like "Cock-a-doodle-do!"     Then a dialogue - selected         For its realistic worth: -     The Cruel Boy detected         With a turtle turned to earth     Back downward; and, in pleading,         The Good Boy - strangely gay     At such a sad proceeding -         Says, "Turn him over, pray!"     So the exercises taper         Through gradations of delight     To the reading of "The Paper,"         Which is entertaining - quite!     For it goes ahead and mentions         "If a certain Mr. O.     Has serious intentions         That he ought to tell her so."     It also "Asks permission         To intimate to 'John'     The dubious condition         Of the ground he's standing on";     And, dropping the suggestion         To "mind what he's about,"     It stuns him with the question:         "Does his mother know he's out?"     And among the contributions         To this "Academic Press"     Are "Versified Effusions"         By - "Our lady editress" -     Which fact is proudly stated         By the CHIEF of the concern, -     "Though the verse communicated         Bears the pen-name 'Fanny Fern.' "         .     .     .     .     .     .     When all has been recited,         And the teacher's bell is heard,     And visitors, invited,         Have dropped a kindly word,     A hush of holy feeling         Falls down upon us there,     As though the day were kneeling,         With the twilight for the prayer.         .     .     .     .     .     .     Midst the wealth of facts and fancies         That our memories may recall,     Thus the old school-day romances         Are the dearest, after all! -     When some sweet thought revises         The half-forgotten tune     That opened "Exercises,"         On "Friday Afternoon."