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Ned Farmer's Scrap Book.
19
The Alarm.
Starting from troubled sleep in wild affright,
What piercing screams disturb the peaceful night?
List! 'tis a smother'd cry salutes mine ear,
And now a stifled groan begets new fear,—
I hear strange voices, and the hurrying tread
Of many people; hark! they say "He's Dead!"
The gleam of crackling fire, with glare around,
Adds to the horror of each dreadful sound;
They call for water!—I can bear no more,
Cold perspiration starts from every pore!
With frenzied haste the window up I threw,
A half-scorched body met my sickening view—
The truth revealing, quick I turned away—
Our neighbour Perkins killed his pig that day!
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They do things well, who never try;
Right clever folks, those standers-by!
