THE DEACON'S GRASSHOPPER
On their way to and from school, the boys and girls of old Boston castcurious glances toward the shop of Deacon Shem Drowne.
It was over one hundred and fifty years ago, and they were Colonialchildren. The boys wore short coats and long trousers, and the littlegirls long, plain skirts almost touching the tops of their shoes. Whenit rained, as it often did in the long chilly days of late winter, theywrapped themselves in heavy capes and ran between the drops, for theyhad no umbrellas.
But rain, or no rain, Samuel, and Abigail and the others could not passthe deacon's tiny window. Through it they knew they might have a peep athis strange craft. Even the sound of his hammer thrilled them.
He was a coppersmith of old Boston, and his shop of one room was downnear the wharves where British ships lay at anchor and the fishermenplied their trade all day. On Sundays Deacon Drowne went to the whitemeeting-house on the Common and passed the contribution basket, andrapped the head of any child who went to sleep during the sermon.
"HE PERCHED HIMSELF UPON A STOOL BESIDE HIS WORK BENCH"]
When Monday came, though, the Deacon was a very different person. He puton a little round cap and a short leather apron. He perched himself upona stool beside his work bench and chuckled like some little, wizenedgnome of the mountain as he looked at his sheets of copper and brass,his scissors, dies, and the many hammers, large and small, that he usedfor shaping metals.
The trade of a coppersmith was not one to interest children greatly inthose days. The Deacon had to patch some housewife's preserving kettle,or make copper toes for the shoes of a little Colonial lad who had wornout the leather too soon to suit his father's sense of economy.Sometimes he had a clock to mend, or a teakettle that needed a newhandle.
None of these were unusual enough tasks so to attract the boys and girlsof Boston. They were familiar with teakettles, having to fill them sooften, and copper toes on their shoes hurt their feet. It was somethingquite different that drew them to the window and door of thecoppersmith.
"What do you suppose Deacon Drowne will have hidden under his work benchto-day?" Samuel would ask.
"Oh, I do not know. I am curious to see. Is he not a person of greatskill and many surprises?" Abigail would reply.
It was quite true. The old coppersmith saw possibilities in his craftthat would have amazed his patrons who thought that the Deacon's mindwas bent all day long on patches and wires. When his day's work was overthe old coppersmith closed his shutter and lighted a candle. He lighted,too, a small stove in which he could heat his metals and weld them intoqueer and curious shapes. It seemed to him that the sheets of copper andbrass in which he worked were too beautiful for the commonplace uses towhich he had to put them.
His mind went back to the days of his boyhood in England when he livedon a farm near the sea and could watch the ships beyond the fields wherethe sea lay, blue and clear. As these thoughts came to him, he weldedhis metals to make the figures that his memory painted for him. Nowonder the children were excited at what the coppersmith would show themthat he had made over night!
He would beckon to them to cross his threshold. Then, with his eyestwinkling like stars through his spectacles, he would hold up in triumphsomething that he had made. Once it was a little brass rooster, shiningand beautiful from his comb to the last tail feather. Once the Deaconshowed the children a curious little admiral made of copper and holdinga telescope as he looked far off at an imaginary sea. Then, to pleasethem, he made a small Indian of copper; the figure was complete even tothe feathers in his headdress.
How the children did laugh, though, when Deacon Drowne showed them acopper grasshopper that he had welded! It was so much larger than a realgrasshopper that it looked like some strange dragon. It quite filled thetiny shop, its long slender legs stretching in every direction.
"Why did you make it?" the children asked.
The old coppersmith chuckled as he replied.
"To show what can be done with my shining metal," he said proudly. "Ittook skill to bend those legs and make the veins in a grasshopper'swings."
"What will you do with it, Deacon Drowne?" asked the children.
The old man shook his head.
"Perhaps it has no use," he said, looking sadly at the coppergrasshopper sprawled out before him.
That was what the sober people of Boston thought, too, all except Mr.Peter Faneuil.
No one could quite understand Mr. Peter Faneuil. He had inherited quitea fortune, but he lived in a simple way and was fonder of children andthe sea than of wearing fine broadcloth and having a coach. He joinedthe children one day when they went to Deacon Drowne's shop and he sawthe grasshopper. They had thought that Mr. Peter Faneuil would laugh atit. He did not even smile. He looked at the shining copper wings and thedelicate workmanship of the slim legs. Then he grasped the coppersmith'stoil-hardened hand.
"It is a wonderful piece of work," he said. "It ought to be placed whereevery one in Boston could see it."
The Deacon smiled with happiness as Mr. Faneuil and the children lefthim. He touched the grasshopper's perfectly shaped head.
"How could that be?" he said wonderingly.
The years went on, and at last no one heard Deacon Drowne's hammering,for he was too old to work any longer at his trade. The children grewup, and Samuel graduated from Harvard College. He was called SamuelAdams now, and was quite an influential young man in Boston. He was oneof those called to attend a meeting in Boston at which an importantdecision was to be made.
Should, or should not Boston accept a gift that Mr. Peter Faneuil wishedto make the city from his boundless wealth? He wished to build forBoston a public hall. But this was the unusual part of his wish. Thehall was to have a market on the ground floor where the incoming shipscould display their fruits and tea and cloth, and the housewives ofBoston might come and buy. On the top of the hall there was to be a hightower, and on top of the tower a weathervane that the sailors could seeat quite a distance from shore.
"Where shall we transact our important business in this hall?" themeeting asked Dr. Peter Faneuil.
"Over the market," was his quick reply.
FANEUIL HALL, BOSTON]
Then they argued the question and wrangled about it. A market in apublic building did not seem fitting to them, even though there was nopublic market in Boston at that time. Neither did a weathervane on topof the tower seem suitable. Some were for it, and more were against it.It did not matter that the hall was to be a free-will gift to Boston.They wished no new ideas to break in upon the old ones that belonged toEngland and the King.
Samuel Adams and his friends were opposed to the idea, but suddenly Mr.Peter Faneuil sent a message to Samuel that made him smile and changehis mind. The meeting closed, and the day was carried for Mr. PeterFaneuil. He was to build his hall just as he wished, and give it toBoston.
Every one watched it with great excitement. It looks a low, humbleenough building now, but it seemed quite huge to old Boston. The peoplewho had been opposed to it grew to like it when they realized how muchthey had needed a market. The magistrates and other officers of the townfound that they could hold their meetings quite as well over the marketas downstairs. They could come down and help their good wives carry homethe day's dinner when they had finished with more weighty matters.
Every one liked the weathervane. It could be seen for a long distance onland or sea, and its arrow never failed to fly north, south, east, orwest. At first all Boston was puzzled by the figure on the top of theweathervane. It was different from any that they had ever seen. Personscame from a distance by stage-coach to see it. It shone and glittered inthe sunlight.
"Who wrought it?" the people of Boston asked, and when they found out,the maker was acclaimed as almost a hero.
Patient old Deacon Drowne! He lived long enough to look up through hisspectacles and see his great copper grasshopper perched on top of theweathervane of Faneuil Hall.
The grasshopper is there to-day. It has b
een on Faneuil Hall since 1742.It saw the Boston Tea Party, and heard the shots of the Lexingtonfarmers. It heard the hoof beats of Paul Revere's horse, and the splashof the oars of the British troops, rowing into Boston Harbor. It watchedbattle and ruin, and then saw the coming of peace and plenty again.
Thousands of storms have beaten against its copper wings and legs, butthe good workmanship of the old smith has helped the grasshopper tostand them all. It has been replated and strengthened in places, but themain part of the figure remains just as Deacon Drowne made it, an emblemof the humble, but preserved for almost two centuries in beautifulworkmanship.
Boys and Girls of Colonial Days Page 8
