The Courtship Of Young John
Fields of lucerne and waving wheat,
White-washed sheds, and cottage neat,
Nesting orchards and mulberry trees,
Scented flowers round hives of bees,
With the cool green creek behind it all,
Where the bell-bird chimed at evenfall
Far from the city’s stir and noise-
This was the home of the ‘Reilly boys.”
There were Matthew and Mark, both lean and grim,
Hard of feature, and strong of limb,
And Luke-poor-Luke had long lain still
In the graveyard under the windy hill,
But his twin remained, the youngest he,
A solemn ‘youth’ of forty-three,
By his elders bossed and put upon,
And always referred to as ‘that young John’.
Their house was speckless, and white as now,
But the dear old neighbour who kept it so,
Old Mrs. Schultz, who lived near by,
In the midst of her labours, found time to die.
And the bachelor brothers were sore perplexed,
Mournfully wondering what they’d do next,
Till Father O’Connell spoke words of cheer,
‘Now one should get married, at least, that’s clear”.
‘There’s Kitty Dempsey-her Aunt Miss Ann
Would like her to wed some decent man,
She’s kindly, and comely, and sensible too,
No end to the clever things she can do—“
And Matthew and Mark spoke up like one,
“She’d just do exactly for ‘that young John”.
But their much-tired victim flung off the yoke,
And these ’re the indignant words he spoke:
“I’ll not be the one to marry, now see;
The hardest jobs are all left to me:
The toughest cows in the milkin’ yard,
Anythin’ at all that is heavy and hard;
You’ve left me stumpin’ the apple-tree flat,
But, be all the powers, I won’t do that!”
Here the reverend adviser’s mirth had sway,
And the good priest hurriedly went his way.
‘Twas a pensive, drowsy afternoon,
The gums aflower and the birds in tune,
But as ‘that young John’ rode up the track,
The wrath in his heart was bitter and black,
For the brothers’ will had prevailed that day,
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poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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