THE KASTLER - POEM

It was the mother Margaret,
To her daughter fair she said :
"Come now, my child, and listen to me,
Come stand beside my bed.

"No father thou, nor brother hast,
Thine uncle is hard and cruel,
Though he have wealth and we be poor,
Nor bread he gives nor fuel.

"But go thou now and say to him
That I am nigh to death ;
Make haste, my child, and soon return,
For short am I of breath,"

And it was Lisa, her little daughter,
Out in the snow she went,
The cold stung like a living thing,
Hungry was she and spent.

And it was Lisa, her little daughter,
That sought the mountain-path ;
She found her uncle, the wicked man.
Beside his blazing hearth.

Then did she weep and pray to him
That to her mother now,
Who lay so cold and near to death,
Some kindness he would show.

And it was her uncle, the cruel man,
In wrath he rose and cried :
"Sooner than give thee aught, my girl,
I'd blast my own hill-side!

"Now get thee gone and come no more";
Then Lisa fled in tears,
She took the downward path towards home,
His hard words in her ears.

And it was Kastler, the little brown dwarf,
Who stood in Lisa's way,
And fast she would have fled from him,
But "Soft"; he bade her, "Stay" ;

"I've heard yon bad man's words"; said he ;
"Go to thy mother dear,
These herbs will take her ills away,
This cheese last many a year."

Then did he give her herbs and cheese,
The little kind brown dwarf!
He patted Lisa's cold blue cheek,
And skipped off with a laugh.

And it was Lisa, her little daughter,
Mother Margaret saw come in ;
Soon as she tasted of the herbs
To heal she did begin.

And then good mother Margaret
She went to the cottage door,
"Good lack," she cried, "thine uncle's fields
On the hill-side are no more.

"Naught's there but rubbish and blasted rock
Where grass grew green anon !"
And it was Kastler, the little brown dwarf,
They fell a-thinking on.