SARAH BINKS A MUSICAL TRIBUTE - Library2

1 

SARAH BINKS 

A MUSICAL TRIBUTE 

Book by Ken Mitchell 

Music by Douglas Hicton 

Lyrics by Paul Hiebert 

C 2001 by Ken Mitchell and Douglas Hicton. Based on the book Sarah 

Binks by Paul Hiebert; permission granted by Oxford University Press.

2 

PLACE: A meeting of the Sarah Binks Memorial Society (in Willows). 

CHARACTERS: 

PAUL HIEBERT, the author and noted biographer. 

SARAH BINKS, a dead poet. Sensitive but of limited education. 

TWO SINGERS(BASS & ALTO)who play the other characters, male and female. 

MUSIC I:2 "HIEBERT'S ENTRANCE" 

(HIEBERT APPEARS. AUDIENCE APPLAUSE.) 

HIEBERT: Welcome to this assembly of the Sarah Binks Memorial 

Society. Tonight we are marking the 50th anniversary of the great 

Sarah’s passing to a higher realm. 

AUDIENCE: 

Hear, hear. 

HIEBERT: A few of you probably knew The Sweet Songstress of 

Saskatchewan personally. Others have been drawn here tonight by the 

fame of her legendary pen. As her biographer, I only claim a small part 

in the growing pinnacle of her reputation. (Copies of my book may be 

purchased at the conclusion of my talk.) You know something about her 

life -- you know of her tragic death. You have read about the honours 

she received, including that highest award in the treasury of prairie 

culture, the Wheat Pool Medal. But the question remains. What produced 

this rare flowering of literary genius -- perhaps second only to the 

great Shakespeare That is the question I as the biographer must 

answer. 

(MUSIC ENDS) 

HIEBERT: 

dirt farm. 

MUSIC I:3 

It is a long way from Stratford upon Avon to a Saskatchewan 

"THE FARMER IS KING" 

HIEBERT: But the language that inspired England's greatest bard, also 

inspired Sarah. When Sarah crooned euphorically about her stretch of 

gumbo, she sang for the entire Canadian West. For example, her poetic 

gem, "The Farmer is King". I have taken the liberty of setting it to 

music: 

(SINGS) 

THE FARMER IS KING OF HIS PACKER AND PLOUGH, 

OF HIS HARROWS AND BINDERS AND BREAKERS, 

HE IS LORD OF THE PIG AND CZAR OF THE COW 

ON HIS HUNDRED AND SIXTY-ODD ACRES! 

THE FARMER IS MONARCH IN HIGH ESTATE, 

OF HIS BARN AND HIS BACKHOUSE AND BYRE, 

OF ALL THE BUILDINGS BEHIND THE GATE 

AND HIS TWO-ODD MILES OF BARBED WIRE. 

THE FARMER IS EVEN CAESAR OF FREIGHT 

AND TARIFF AND TAX, COMES ELECTION, 

AND FROM THEN UNTIL THEN HE CAN ABDICATE, 

AND BE KING ON HIS OWN QUARTER SECTION. 

Sarah was born in the early years of Saskatchewan, in the halcyon 

days of the Golden West. The agricultural prosperity naturally produced

3 

an artistic flowering as well, and Sarah expressed its artistic soul. 

Her love for the alkaline soil was deep, and every spring, she spread 

her poetic fertilizer with a lavish hand. Here is a slide of Sarah at 

the age of ten. 

(PROJECTOR IMAGE OF SARAH, SPREADING FERTILIZER) 

(Sarah Theme, “Ode to Spring” Or "Calf") 

HIEBERT: There she stands at her father’s gate. Unschooled and 

unspoiled, this simple farm girl captured the flatness of her native 

landscape, its wildlife, the richness of its insect population. Like a 

sylph she wandered through the coulees and gopher meadows, in a divine 

frenzy. You can almost her voice now, crooning with delight. 

SARAH (GHOSTLY): 

You do hear me, Mr. Hiebert. 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 


What Sara, is that you 

Yes, it’s me. I'm here to correct some of your lies. 

What do you mean, lies 

Well, about Henry Welkin for one thing. 

HIEBERT: Of course, I'd be delighted to take your corrections for the 

record. As your humble biographer, I am only here to tell these people 

how you transcended the soil of Willows, Saskatchewan. Let us start in 

Willows. How would -- you describe it 

SARAH: That's not hard. It's a place halfway between Oak Bluff and 

Quagmire. What else do they want to know 

HIEBERT: Well – Its appearance perhaps. I described its civic 

architecture as unpretentious. A post office and a one-room school. 

SARAH: How about Charley Wong's restaurant and billiard parlour It 

was real pretentious! Plus a feed store, and four gas stations! It 

wasn't some hick village, like you wrote in your book! 

HIEBERT: 


You read my book 

I glanced it over. I get around, now that I'm a spirit. 

HIEBERT: Of course, the town is now sadly declined -- eclipsed by its 

glorious past. Yet to this shrine every year come members of the Binks 

Memorial Society who pause for refreshment at the Clarendon Hotel, or 

fill up with gas at the "Sarah Binks Esso station." 

SARAH: Actually, I never spent a lot of time in Willows myself. I 

liked it better on the farm. Dad's place was ten miles outta town, out 

where the hand of man hath never trod. 

HIEBERT: 

By all means, then, let us begin at the farm! 

(PROJECTOR SHOWS HOUSE.) 

HIEBERT: The house has long since been vandalized by reckless 

souvenir hunters, and the barn is about to collapse. Gophers now frolic 

in the corral where Sarah raised her famous calf, not far from the 

slough where the mudhen builds its airy nest and the pensive mosquito 

wanders unafraid.

4 

(SARAH SLAPS HER ARM.) 


Got him. 

HIEBERT: Here Jacob Binks built his sod hut, and later covered it 

with quality tar-paper. Guests entered through this “back porch," a 

small antechamber where coal was stored, along with winter potatoes and 

the cream separator. 


And the busted harness. 

HIEBERT: Here the chickens were plucked, and the eggs cleaned. Here 

slept Rover, the Dog. 


And Ole, the hired man. 

(SOUND OF OLE, SNORING.) 

HIEBERT: 


his socks. 

Ole slept in the porch 

Ma insisted. But it wasn't 'cause he was Swedish. It was 

HIEBERT: Stepping into the kitchen, we see the very wall on which she 

wrote her early poems. The poem "Calf" for example, one of her finest 

odes. 

(PROJECTOR SHOWS CALF. SARAH BEGINS TO WEEP.) 

MUSIC I:4 


"OH, CALF" 

That was my calf Barnaby. He died two days later. 

HIEBERT: Could you recite it The entire society would love to hear 

you render those haunting words. 


I can sure as heck try! Just give me a sec. 

(SARAH POSITIONS HERSELF BRAVELY.) 


OH, CALF, THAT GAMBOLLED BY MY DOOR, 

WHO MADE ME RICH, WHO NOW AM POOR, 

THAT LICKED MY HAND, MY HAND WITH MILK BESPREAD, 

HIEBERT AND SARAH: OH CALF, CALF! ART DEAD, ART DEAD 


OH CALF, I SIT AND LANGUISH, CALF, 

WITH SOMBER FACE, I CANNOT LAUGH, 

CAN I FORGET THY PLAYFUL BUNTS 

HIEBERT AND SARAH: OH CALF, CALF, THAT LOVED ME/HER ONCE! 


WITH MILDEWED OPTICS, DEATHLIKE, STILL, 

MY NIGHTS ARE DAMP, MY DAYS ARE CHILL, 

I WEEP, I WEEP AGAIN WITH DOLEFUL SNIFF, 

HIEBERT AND SARAH: OH CALF, CALF, CAAAAAAALF, 

OH CALF, CALF, SO DEAD, SO STIFF. 

(SARAH AND HIEBERT HONK INTO THEIR HANKIES.)

5 

HIEBERT: 


HIEBERT: 

Sarah learned early about the tragic reality of nature. 

Yeah. I had to weed the garden and pick tater bugs! 

But somehow she plodded on with her schooling. 

SARAH: Well, I only got to school once a week or so. Had to help 

Dad with the farm, you see. 

HIEBERT: He was opposed to your schooling But wasn't he the 

chairman of the Willows School Board 

SARAH: He didn't believe in “book learning”. So they elected him 

every year, like clockwork. 

HIEBERT: Just like Shakespeare's father! All the more important that 

you took lessons in the school of nature. (TO AUDIENCE) To Sarah, 

nature was something alive. Give her a dead field mouse, a crocus, or a 

jam pail full of sowbugs, and poetry gushed forth unbidden, unrestrained 

and uncalled for. 

MUSIC I:5 

"THE GENIUS" 

HIEBERT: As she reveals in her little poetic gem, "The Genius" -- 

composed at the age of 12. 


I'M A GENIUS, I'M A GENIUS, 

WHAT MORE CAN I DESIRE 

I TOOT UPON MY LITTLE FLUTE, 

AND TWANG UPON MY LYRE; 

I DABBLE IN OIL PAINT 

IN CINNEBAR AND OCHRE, 

ALL NIGHT I AM DISSIPATED, 

AND PLAY POKER. 

IN MY LITTLE BOOK, IN MY LITTLE BOOK 

I WRITE VERSES, 

SOMETIMES THEY DON'T RHYME -- 

CURSES! 

HIEBERT: Sarah's formal education may have been scant, but she never 

let that go to her head. And there were many other influences on 

Sarah's early work. There was Rover, the dog, Ole the Hired Man, 

Mathilda Schwantzhacker. And of course Henry Welkin. 


Henry Welkin More lies. We're not talking about him! 

HIEBERT: Well, a little later, perhaps -- 

SARAH: If you’re interested in where I got my philosophy, we can 

talk about my father, Jacob Binks. 

HIEBERT: 

Very well. Jacob Binks. 

(PROJECTOR SHOWS JACOB BINKS.) 

HIEBERT: Sarah was the second or possibly the third child of Jacob 

and Agathea Binks, though none of the other children survived their

6 

infancy, and Agathea Binks apparently abdicated while Sarah was still a 

child. She was raised by her father, who taught her the meaning of work! 

MUSIC II:16 "SONG OF THE CHORE" 


I SING THE SONG OF THE SIMPLE CHORE, 

OF QUITTING THE DOWNY BED AT FOUR, 

AND CHIPPING ICE FROM THE STABLE DOOR -- 

OF THE SIMPLE CHORE I SING: 

TO THE FORTY BELOW AT BREAK OF DAY, 

TO CLIMBING UP, AND THROWING DOWN HAY, 

TO CLEANING OUT AND CARTING AWAY, 

A PAEAN OF PRAISE I BRING. 

OH, IT'S TIME TO MILK 

OR IT'S TIME TO NOT, 

OH, IT'S TIME FOR BREAKFAST 

AND TIME I GOT 

THE POT OF COFFEE 

IN THE COFFEE POT -- 

I SING OF THE CHORE, "HURRAY"! 


OTHERS: 


OTHERS: 

OH, IT'S TIME FOR THIS AND IT'S TIME FOR THAT, 

OH, IT'S TIME FOR THIS AND IT'S TIME FOR THAT, 

FOR MENDING UNENDING AND TENDING THE BRAT, 

FOR MENDING UNENDING AND TENDING THE BRAT, 

ALL (in a round): AND IT'S TIME TO TURN IN AND PUT OUT THE CAT, 

TOMORROW'S ANOTHER DAY. 

HIEBERT: But Professor H.P. Marrowfat's crude suggestion that your 

father wrote your early poems surely does not bear critical scrutiny. 

Jacob was an unlettered man. 


Oh no, he got lots of letters. 

HIEBERT: And after you became famous, I believe he was presented as a 

candidate for election by the Quagmire-Willows Conservative Association 


Yeah, but he was dead then. 

HIEBERT: Still, in the poem "Crisscrossers", Sarah demonstrates her 

skill in philosophy, showing unmistakable echoes of the senior Binks. 

MUSIC I:8 

JACOB: 

"CRISSCROSSERS" 

MY DAUGHTER, IF YOU CHANCE TO MEET 

WITH HIM WHO WALKS WITH CRISS-CROSS FEET, 

GO MARK HIM WELL, WITHIN THAT BRAIN 

ARE SEETHING THOUGHTS THAT NONE CAN NAME. 

JACOB AND HIEBERT: 

GO MARK HIM WELL, 

AND WALK BEHIND, 

HIS GAIT BESPEAKS THE COSMIC MIND. 

GO MARK HIM WELL, AND WALK BEHIND --

7 

HIS GAIT BESPEAKS THE COSMIC MIND. 

YOUNG SARAH: 

O DAD, SUCH MAN ALONG THE STREET, 

WITH GLOWING ORBS AND CRISS-CROSS FEET, 

WHO BREATHES A GREAT HILARITY, 

(CRISSCROSSERS ARE A RARITY), 

HAS FOUND IN THAT CEREBRAL BALL 

THE FINAL MEANING OF IT ALL. 

HIEBERT: 

MY GIRL, SUCH MAN WITH MIND ALOOF, 

IS WORTH TEN OTHERS ON THE HOOF, 

AND HE WHO WALKS WITH CRISS-CROSS GAIT 

CAN READ THE COSMOS LIKE A SLATE. 

JACOB, YOUNG SARAH & HIEBERT: GO MARK HIM WELL 

WITH HUMBLE HEART. 

CRISSCROSSERS ARE A THING APART. 

GO MARK HIM WELL WITH HUMBLE HEART. 

CRISSCROSSERS ARE A THING APART! 

CRISSCROSSERS ARE A THING APART! 

HIEBERT: "To read the cosmos like a slate"! Jacob Binks had been a 

crisscrosser on many occasions, indeed after most political meetings, 

when he practised the crisscross on his way home from town. Inspired by 

his example, Ole made several attempts to achieve the "cosmic mind," but 

never succeeded. 


Ole's contribution wasn't really what you'd call mental. 

HIEBERT: No. But to Ole the hired man, big of heart and big of feet, 

must go the credit for inspiring some of Sarah's early work. He was a 

big man, with hands that swung at his sides like slabs of teak. He had 

shoulders of gnarled oak. 


And a head to match. 

HIEBERT: In "Steeds," the Swede's natural enthusiasm is combined with 

the magnificent rhythm of galloping horses. 

MUSIC I:10 "STEEDS" 

HIEBERT: The poem is set in the late afternoon of election day, 1911, 

when Ole disappeared with two gallons of horse-medicine he was 

transporting to the Conservative committee rooms. 

OLE: 

I HAVE TWO DASHING, PRANCING STEEDS, 

BUTTERCUP AND DAIRY QUEEN, 

WHAT FOR SPIRIT, WHAT FOR SPEED, 

MATCHES THIS AMAZING TEAM 

WHEN THEY'RE FASTENED SIDE BY SIDE, 

YOKED TOGETHER IN THE TRACES, 

JOYFULLY PREPARE TO RIDE 

O'ER THE BIG AND OPEN SPACES; 

ALL: 

OLE: 

ALTO: 

WHOOPEE! SWIFT ACROSS THE STUBBLE, 

OVER SHOULDERS, BANKS AND RUBBLE, 

UP THE HILL AND DOWN THE GLEN, 

CROSS THE COUNTRY -- BACK AGAIN,

8 

HIEBERT: 


OLE: 

ALTO: 

HIEBERT: 

THROUGH THE FENCE AND GREENHOUSE GO, 

PUMPKIN GARDEN -- TO AND FRO, 

POUNDING, PUFFING, LIKE A DRAGON, 

KILL THE CALF AND SMASH THE WAGON, 

THROUGH THE HAYLOFT, DUST AND SMOTHER, 

SARAH: IN ONE END AND OUT THE OTHER -- 

ALL: 

ZOWIE! WHEN THEIR SPIRIT'S UP! 

DAIRY QUEEN AND BUTTERCUP! 

HIEBERT: More philosophical is the short poem, "The Cursed Duck", in 

which Sarah reveals her deep compassion, following the loss of one of 

Ole's ears. The Binks ducks had a taste for vegetables and we deduce 

from this ballad that Ole inadvertently fell asleep in, or near, the 

vegetable patch the night before. 

MUSIC I:11 "THE CURSED DUCK" 


OLE: 



A CURSED DUCK PECKED OFF HIS EAR, 

AND HIS FACE GREW PEAKED AND PALE; 

"OH, HOW CAN A WOMAN LOVE ME NOW" 

WAS HIS CONSTANT AND LONELY WAIL. 

BUT A WOMAN CAME, AND SHE LOVED THE MAN, 

WITH A LOVE SERENE AND CLEAR. 

SHE LOVED HIM AS ONLY A WOMAN CAN LOVE -- 

A MAN WITH ONLY ONE EAR. 

HIEBERT: Thus Sarah introduced the buxom figure of her friend 

Mathilda Schwantzhacker. 

MUSIC I:12 "MATHILDA 1" (very short) 

HIEBERT: Much has been written about Sarah’s friendship with this 

older girl from the neighboring farm who became a role model for Sarah's 

romantic poems. It was sparked of course by her interest in the Swedish 

hired man. Famous for his strength, Ole was able to toss Mathilda to 

the hayloft with ease, though she was eighteen and ample for her age. 

SARAH: Oh, the games she played with Ole! "Auntie, Auntie up!" they 

cried, or "Catch-me-if-you-can" as they chased between the barn and the 

buggy shed on Sunday afternoons. 

HIEBERT: Sarah found their courtship a source of great amusement, and 

pursued this romantic motif. The field of feminist criticism must 

acknowledge a great debt to these pioneer women, for without Mathilda's 

romantic initiative, the great Gryczlkaeiouc (pron. Gritchelkay'uke) 

symphony would never have been composed. 

MUSIC I:13 "OLE AND MATHILDA"

9 

SARAH: Mathilda lived half a mile down the road, the eldest of 

thirteen Schwantzhacker girls. They came trooping over to entertain Ole 

every time at least once a day. 

HIEBERT: Ole was always deeply moved by the dramatic spectacle of 

thirteen Schwantzhackers picking their way through the cow pasture. But 

he and Sarah preferred Mathilda's company. She was the most intelligent. 


HIEBERT: 

Or the least cross-eyed. 

And the only one with an ear for the Orphic muse. 

(MUSIC SEGUES TO:) 

MUSIC I:14 "WHERE SHALL I FIND A HIRED MAN" 

HIEBERT: At Mathilda's request, Sarah composed this splendid tribute to 

Ole's manhood, "Where Shall I Find a Hired Man" 

(SARAH HANDS MATHILDA A SHEET OF PAPER.) 

MATHILDA: 

WHERE SHALL I FIND A HIRED MAN 

FOR HOMELY DESTINY TO TOIL, 

TO MEND HARNESSES, 

AND SHOVEL CEMENT, 

AND BOIL OIL. 


TO GATHER ROCKS AND DO THE CHORES, 

TO HARROW WIDE, 

AND PLOW DEEP, 

THE BIG OUTDOORS. 


WITH A SINGLE PASSION FOR HIS JOB, 

WITH THOUGHTS OF WORK, 

AND NOTHING ELSE, 

WITHIN HIS KNOB. 

WHERE SHALL I SEARCH FOR A HIRED MAN 

WITH CORDED ARMS AND KNOTTED KNEES, 

WITH BEAMED SHOULDERS, 

AND FEET LIKE HERCULES' 

SARAH: Ole could certainly cause a stir. Then the war came, and he 

took off to join the Canadian army. That was the last we seen of him. 

HIEBERT: The Ladies Literary League of Quagmire later conducted a 

raffle so this poem could be carved upon Ole's tombstone, wherever it 

might be found. In moving the motion, Mrs. Pete Cattalo said... 

CATTALO: "It is a big poem. But then Ole was a big man, big in every 

way, take it from me." 

SARAH: Mathilda was a total wreck for a long time after he left. 

It was especially hard on her because he'd gone to fight the Huns. 

HIEBERT: 

And the Schwantzhackers were German 

SARAH: Exactly. That's when Mathilda asked me to start translating 

poems from German.

10 

HIEBERT: Mathilda apparently sought comfort in the literature of her 

fatherland, and introduced it to Sarah, with the help of the family 

dictionary. 

MUSIC I:15 "THE LAUREL'S EGG" 

HIEBERT: In grief at Ole's disappearance in Flanders, they translated 

several songs from deutsche, including the famous "Die Lorelei". 


I KNOW NOT WHAT SHALL IT BETOKEN, 

THAT I SO SORROWFUL SEEM, 

A MARKLET FROM OUT OF OLD, SPOKEN, 

THAT COMES ME NOT OUT OF THE BEAN, 

THAT COMES ME NOT OUT OF THE BEAN. 

THE LOFT IS COOL AND IT DARKLES, 

AND RUEFULLY FLOWETH THE CLEAN, 

THE TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN-TOP SPARKLES, 

IN EVENING SUN-SHINE SHEEN, 

IN EVENING SUN-SHINE SHEEN. 

THE FAIREST YOUNG WOMAN SITTETH, 

THERE WONDERFUL UP ON TOP, 

HER GOLDEN-LIKE OUTFIT GLITTETH, 

SHE COMBETH HER GOLDEN MOP; 

SHE COMBS IT WITH GOLDEN COMB-FULL 

AND SINGS ONE SONG THERETO, 

THAT HAS ONE WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, 

AND POWERFUL TOODLE-DI-DOO. 

(cadenza) AHHH -- 

I BELIEVE THAT THE WHALES WILL DEVOUR 

THE END OF THE SHIPPER AND SHIP, 

AND THAT HAS IN HER SINGING BOWER, 

THE LAUREL'S EGG DONE IT, 

THE LAUREL'S EGG DONE IT. 

HIEBERT: Sarah's interpreting the river Rhein as the River "Clean" is 

masterful, despite the slight error in translating Die Lorelie as "The 

Laurel's Egg". Translation was not her forte of course, and it is now 

fashionable to dismiss Sarah's translations, as unworthy expressions of 

Saskatchewan culture. On the contrary, I say. It is the poet’s duty to 

speak in a multicultural babble, the true language of the prairies. 

But I digress. Sarah's experiments with the German language put her 

under a cloud of patriotic suspicion, and she received an unexpected 

visit from the RCMP. Appalled by the suggestion that she could be 

unpatriotic, and to prove her love of country, she sat down and dashed 

off her great hymn of heroic sacrifice - inspired by her friend Ole, now 

lost forever in the fields of Flanders. 

MUSIC I:17 "FREEDOM" 

HIEBERT, OLE, SARAH AND MATHILDA: 

SHALL FREEDOM SHRIEK AGAIN, 

SHALL FREEDOM WAIL, 

OR STAND AT LAST, AGHAST, 

WITH UNFURLED TAIL,

11 

SHALL IT BENEATH THE IRON 

TYRANT'S GUM-SHOE QUAIL 

NAY! NOT WHILE YET IS LEFT 

THE WIND WHEREWITH TO SOUND 

THE BAGPIPE, NOT WHILE YET IS LEFT 

THE STICK WHEREWITH TO POUND 

THE SNARE-DRUM, NOT WHILE YET THE BLOOD 

OF CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS 

FLOWS IN OUR VEINS, 

SHALL THESE, OUR FOES, SUCCUMB US. 

HIEBERT: In her very next effort, Sarah shook off the cloud of 

suspicion that her work had attracted, and wrote what most critics agree 

was her finest work, "Ode to Spring". 

MUSIC I:18 "ODE TO SPRING" 

HIEBERT: Hearken to Sarah, full-throated in the orgasmic euphoria of 

Saskatchewan's favourite season: 


ALL: 

'TIS NOT FOR LONG THE BIRD SHALL CREEP 

BENEATH A PILE OF MOULDY STRAW; 

EFTSOONS, NOT LONG THE CHILL WINDS SWEEP, 

AND POWDERED SNOW-BANKS FOUR FEET DEEP, 

PILE UP, PILE UP, IN ROUNDISH HEAP, 

PILE UP, PILE UP, IN ROUNDISH HEAP: 

FOR SPRING IS COMING WITH ITS MIRTH, 

AND BREEZY BREATH OF BALMY WARMTH, 

AND BURBANK, BOBOLINK, AND SNEARTH 

SHALL BANISH WINTER'S CHILL AND DEARTH, 

AND LUSCIOUS JOY SHALL FILL THE EARTH, 

AND LUSCIOUS JOY SHALL FILL THE EARTH. 

HIEBERT: 'Ode to Spring' caused a furor when it appeared in The 

Horse-Breeder's Gazette. It struck a deep chord in the hearts of 

prairie folk. They had suffered a miserable winter. The roads were 

blocked, and temperatures were still at thirty-eight to forty-five below 

zero. Suddenly the voice of Sarah, The Sweet Songstress, burst upon 

them like a Madrigal of cheer. Spring was coming; the burbank and the 

snearth were imminent. No wonder Saskatchewan took her to its broad, 

flat bosom! Sarah awoke to find herself a local celebrity. 

MUSIC I:19: "SONG TO THE COW / THE GOOSE" 

HIEBERT: She immediately wrote "Song to the Cow" and "The Goose," 

both of which reveal a deep love for the bucolic life. 


I'LL TAKE NO COW THAT FAILS TO SING 

OR THROSTLE WITH ITS HORN, 

HER MILK MUST STIMULATE LIKE TEA, 

HER TAIL STRETCH TO INFINITY, 

AND HER NOSE BE PLUSH AND WARM. 

AMOROUS OF OPTIC, MILD BUT QUICK 

TO PERCEIVE WHERE THE GRASS IS PALE, 

A RHOMBOID SNOUT, A MELLOW LICK, 

AND A BREATH LIKE ALE -- 

THESE ATTRIBUTES IN A COW, I DEEM, 

ARE THE BEST TO BE HAD AND WIN MY ESTEEM.

12 

HIEBERT: 

THE GOOSE, A NOISOME BIRD TO CHATTER, 

BUT HANDSOME ON A GARNISHED PLATTER, 

A LOATHSOME BRUTE TO TOIL AMONG, 

BUT CAUGHT AND KILLED AND COOKED AND HUNG, 

BEFORE A CRACKLING FIRE, 

A SONGSTER TO ADMIRE. 

HIEBERT: Upon completing this tribute to the Binks animals, the 

poetess began her greatest work, the suite of poems called the 

Gryczlkaeiouc (pron. Gritchelkay'uke) Symphony. In this, she 

immortalized the last great love affair of her confidante, Mathilda. 


HIEBERT: Mathilda Schwantzhacker was an unlikely muse for a daughter 

of Orpheus. But it is possible Sarah knew more about Mathilda than 

Mathilda knew. 


More than she suspected, anyhow. And my mouth is sealed. 

HIEBERT: But we need such biographical detail to appreciate the 

complexities of the Gryczlkaeiouc Symphony. 

SARAH: That's, uh, Grizzlykick. 

HIEBERT: Pardon 

SARAH: Her boy friend's name was Stem Grizzlykick. 

HIEBERT: Ah - local dialect. Grizzlykick! 

(PROJECTOR SHOWS STEM, A ROUGH FARMER.) 

HIEBERT: Mathilda's most ardent admirer was one Stemka 

Gryczlkaeiouc... uh Grizzlykick..., known in the community, at least in 

the hotel, as "Stem." 


Or "Steve" sometimes. 

HIEBERT: He was a farmer; and although he never raised a crop of 

wheat, his estate was abundant in barley and potatoes. These featured 

in the production of exotic beverages, a craft which allowed him to take 

up the joy of the hunt in the summer. Stem was a keen hunter, and a 

far-sighted conservationist. He rarely killed gophers except in selfdefence, 

and to sell their tails for the bounty. This provided him a 

steady income without depopulating the land. And Sarah was delighted 

now that her friend had fallen in love again, and hoped to get married! 

SARAH: Actually, it wasn't really love, and for a long time they 

weren't exactly married -- but it was all grist for my poetic mill. 

MUSIC I:22 "SEGUE MUSIC" 

HIEBERT: There is evidence that Stem had already observed Mathilda 

and admired her from afar. The poem, "Hi, Sooky, Ho, Sooky" exists only 

in Stem's cryptic holograph, but clearly composed in Sarah's inimitable 

style. The opening duet in the great symphony. 

(MUSIC SEGUES TO:)

13 

MUSIC I:23 "HI, SOOKY, HO, SOOKY" 

STEM: 

MATHILDA: 

STEM: 

BOTH: 

STEM: 

MATHILDA: 

STEM: 

BOTH: 

STEM: 


COMPANY: 

OH, I HEARD YOUR VOICE AT DAYBREAK, 

CALLING LOUD AND SWEET AND CLEAR; 

I WAS HIDING IN THE TURNIPS 

WITH A CRICKET IN MY EAR; 

A MILLER-MOTH IN ONE EAR, 

AND A CRICKET IN THE OTHER, 

BUT I HEARD YOUR DEAR VOICE CALLING 

TO THE PIGLETS AND THEIR MOTHER; 

HEARD YOUR OWN VOICE RISING, FALLING, 

LOUD AND LONG, AND SHARP AND SHRILL, 

CALLING.... 

SOOKY, SOOKY, SOOOOOOKY! 

TO THE PIGLETS ON THE HILL. 

HI, SOOKY, HO, SOOKY, 

COME AND GET YOUR SWILL! 

OH, I'VE HID AMONG THE TURNIPS 

AND I'VE HID BETWEEN THE STOOKS, 

WITH BARLEY BARBS ALL DOWN MY BACK, 

AND BEETLES IN MY BOOTS; 

BUT I'VE SEEN YOU IN THE DWINDLING, 

AND I'VE SEEN YOU IN THE RAIN, 

WITH AN ARMFUL FULL OF KINDLING, 

WHEN YOU FELL AND ROSE AGAIN; 

I'VE SEEN YOU PLODDING THROUGH THE DUST 

AND PLUGGING THROUGH THE WET, 

AND AT NIGHT AGAINST THE WINDOW-BLIND, 

I'VE SEEN YOUR SILHOUETTE; 

BUT... 

SOOKY, SOOKY, SOOOOOOKY! 

I NEVER CAN FORGET. 

HI, SOOKY, HO SOOKY, 

COME AND GET YOUR PEP! 

AND OH, I THINK I'LL HIDE AGAIN 

FOR JUST A SIGHT OF YOU, 

AND HEAR YOUR OWN SWEET VOICE AGAIN 

CALL...SOOKY, SOOKY, SOOOOOO! 

HI, SOOKY, HO, SOOKY, 

COME AND GET THE STEW, SOOKY, 

COME AND GET YOUR GOO, SOOKY, 

SOOKY, SOOKY, SOOOOOOOO! 

HIEBERT: And only two weeks after the publication of "Hi Sooky, Ho 

Sooky", Sarah wrote "The Plight." In this poem, Mathilda's adoration 

for uh, Grizzlykick is expressed through the symbolism of a tree. Trees 

were scarce around Willows, and tended to be small; in fact, the only 

tree between Willows and South Vigil -- undoubtedly the one in "The 

Plight" -- was so small that to find its shade was a task of some 

difficulty. The poem is doubly interesting therefore, as a botanical, 

as well as a lyrical, triumph.

14 

MUSIC I:24 "THE PLIGHT" 


IS THIS THE TREE 

THAT SAW THEIR FIRST LOVE'S PLIGHTING, 

AND THOSE THE LEAVES 

THAT HEARD OUR FIRST LOVE'S VOW, 

AND YONDER LIMB 

THAT SAW LOVE'S FIRST DELIGHTING, 

IS THAT THE VERY LIMB, THE SELF-SAME BOUGH 

IS THIS ITS SCANTY SHADE 

WHERE LOVE FIRST HIT ME, 

AND CATERPILLARS TUMBLED FROM ON HIGH; 

IS YONDER ANT 

THE VERY ANT THAT BIT ME, 

AND THEM THE SAME MOSQUITOES IN THE SKY 

CAN THIS THEN BE 

THE TREE THAT SEEMED SO LEADEN, 

AND GREY AND DULL 

A SCANT FEW HOURS AGO 

NOW ALL IS CHANGED; 

ITS BRANCHES REACH TO HEAVEN, 

AND UP AND DOWN THE ANGEL ANTLETS GO; 

TIME CANNOT CHANGE, THOUGH LEAF 

AND TWIG MAY WITHER, 

AND CATERPILLAR STRUGGLE INTO MOTH. 

THIS IS THE TREE 

THAT HEARD LOVE'S FIRST SWEET BLITHER, 

THIS IS THE SPOT WE LOUDLY PLIGHTED TROTH. 

HIEBERT: The couple soon made their romance public when Stem invited 

his paramour to a dance at the Willows School house. Their enthusiasm is 

captured in Sarah's rousing poem, "The Square Dance". 

MUSIC I:21 "SQUARE DANCE" 


HIEBERT: 


HIEBERT: 


HIEBERT: 

SING HO, FOR THE DANCE, 

TO SHUFFLE AND PRANCE, 

SING "LADIES, DO-SI-DO!" 

AND FIDDLES ENGAGE, 

WITH "BIRD-IN-THE-CAGE," 

SING "ELEBEN-LEFT!" -- SING HO! 

GIVE ME THE SQUARE 

WHEN HARMONICAS BLARE, 

AND THE LADIES ARE SET FOR THE SWING -- 

AND SQUIFFY MALARTY 

HAS MADE UP THE PARTY, 

WITH A HANDKERCHIEF TIED TO HIS WING: 

SWING OLGA, SWING LENA, 

SWING KATE AND KATRINA, 

SWING GUDRUN, AND BJORG AND GERTRUDE. 

SWING HEAVY, SWING HEARTY. 

SWING SQUIFFY MALARTY,

15 


HIEBERT: 

MATHILDA: 

THE LIFE OF THE PARTY -- AND STEWED. 

GIVE ME THE DANCE, 

WHERE THE GIRLS TAKE A CHANCE, 

WITH SEAM AND WITH BUTTON AND STRING, 

AND SWING THEM UP HIGHER, 

BEFORE THEY RETIRE -- 

SING HO, HEIGH-HO, FOR THE SWING; 

SING HO, FOR THE SWIRLS, 

AND THE BREATHLESS GIRLS, 

WITH THE SWIMMING DELIGHT IN THEIR EYES -- 

COME SMALLER OR TALLER, 

TAKE OFF THE COLLAR -- 

SING HO, FOR THE EXERCISE. 

SWING DAISY, SWING BETTY, 

STEM: SWING MAISIE AND LETTY, 


MATHILDA: 

SWING MIRABEL, MARGIE AND JOY. 

SWING MRS. MCGINTY, 

STEM: SIX FEET AND SQUINTY, 


ALL: 

TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY -- AND COY. 

SING HO, FOR THE DANCE, 

TO SHUFFLE AND PRANCE, 

SING "LADIES, DO-SI-DO!" 

AND FIDDLES ENGAGE, 

WITH "BIRD-IN-THE-CAGE," 

SING "ELEBEN-LEFT!" 

SING HO! 

HIEBERT: In "The Proposal," Sarah's next creation, we sense a 

cautious joy at the approaching nuptials. It seems that Stem needed a 

job to improve his standing, and appears here as the "hired man", not to 

be confused with the departed Ole. 

MUSIC I:25 "PROPOSAL" 


STEM: 


MATHIDA: 


MATHILDA: 

THE HIRED MAN TO THE MAIDEN SPOKE: 

OH, MARRY ME TOMORROW, 

WE'LL FILL THE HEATER UP WITH COKE, 

KETTLE, BEANS, AND BACON BORROW, 

MAKE A TABLE, BUILD A BED -- 

WHY SO HAPPY WHEN WE'RE WED 

HAPPY, HAPPY, WHILE WE CAN," 

TO THE MAID THE HIRED MAN. 

"OH NOT SO FAST," 

THE MAID REPLIED. 

"IN THIS I AM IMMUTABLE. 

I FEAR YOUR LOVE WOULD WEAKEN, 

THOUGH YOUR ARDOUR'S INDISPUTABLE;

16 

LOVE MAY WANE AND LOVE MAY WAX, 

MINE CAN ONLY THRIVE ON FACTS. 

WORK A YEAR AND WE SHALL SEE," 


CRIED THE MAIDEN MODESTLY. 

HIEBERT: The path of true love was beginning to deviate. Perhaps it 

was not the season for consummation; perhaps the inconstant lover 

induced coyness in the otherwise enthusiastic Mathilda Schwantzhacker. 


HIEBERT: After a long winter of silence in Sarah's work, spring 

brought forth a new movement in her great classic of courtship. For 

sheer saccharine elegance, few poems in the entire Symphony approach 

that universal favourite, "The Wedding Dress." Mathilda was assembling 

her trousseau and had just ordered a gown from the Eaton's catalogue. 

MUSIC I:27 "THE WEDDING DRESS" 

MATHILDA: 


MATHILDA: 

ON PAGE TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY-THREE, 

OH, THERE'S THE VERY DRESS FOR ME, 

THE PRICE IS RIGHT, 

THE SIZE IS TIGHT, 

THE COLOUR RED, AND GREEN, AND WHITE, 

AND I'LL BE CHICK, I'LL BE PETITE, 

OH, THAT'S THE DRESS FOR ME! 

THEY SAY THAT MAN WANTS LITTLE HERE, 

NOR WANTS THAT LITTLE LONG -- NOR DEAR, 

AND SO I SAY 

ON WEDDING DAY 

A DRESS THAT'S SHORT, AND CUTE, AND GAY, 

AND LIGHT ENOUGH FOR THE BREEZE TO PLAY, 

AND A SPECIAL PRICE - 


"TO CLEAR." 

THOUGH AFTER WEDDING DAY WE FIND 

IT'S SHORT IN FRONT AND LONG BEHIND, 

AND WINDS ON HEATH 

GET UNDERNEATH, 

AND RATTLE BONES, AND RIBS, AND TEETH, 

FOR WEDDING DAY WITH WEDDING WREATH 

I WANT TO LOOK REFINED. 

HIEBERT: The joy of matrimony, however, was again delayed for this 

modern Heloise and Abelard. After several postponements, due to Stem's 

preparation of the potato champagne for the nuptials, the knot was tied. 

As evidence, we have Sarah's later poem, "Lullaby," the next movement in 

the Grizzlykick Symphony. 

MUSIC I:28 "LULLABY" 

(THIS SONG REALLY SHOULD BE SUNG BY MATHILDA, BUT) 


SLEEP, MY DARLING, SLEEP AWAY, 

DADDY'S GONE TO TOWN WITH HAY,

17 

AND AT FOUR O'CLOCK WILL COME 

THE MAN WHO SELLS ALUMINUM; 

MOTHER'S SOLD ON KITCHEN WARE, 

SLEEP, SHE WANTS TO DO HER HAIR. 

THOUGH YOU'RE FAR TOO YOUNG FOR TELLING, 

MOTHER DOESN'T WANT YOU YELLING 

WHEN THE SALES MAN COMES -- SO YOU 

SLEEP TILL FIVE OR QUARTER TO. 

(HIEBERT AND MATHILDA HUM ALONG) 


BABY: 

SLEEP, MY PRECIOUS, CLOSE YOUR EYES, 

MOTHER'S SOLD ON PLATES FOR PIES, 

AND TOMORROW -- 

WAAAAH! 

SARAH: GO TO SLEEP -- 

DADDY GOES TO TOWN WITH SHEEP, 

BETTER COUNT THEM WHILE YOU'RE ABLE, 

WHEN THEY'RE GONE THEY'LL LOCK THE STABLE, 

SO WE'LL COUNT THEM, YOU AND ME, 

FOUR O'CLOCK COMES AFTER THREE. 

COUNT THE HOURS, COUNT THE SHEEP. 

HMS: 

SLEEP, YOU LITTLE NUISANCE, SLEEP. 

HIEBERT: More than their personal life, however, it was their 

professional life as farmers that Sarah vowed to celebrate in this 

romance. Hence, "Song to the Four Seasons". 

MUSIC II:2 "SONG TO THE FOUR SEASONS" 

(LIGHTS COME UP ON MATHILDA AND STEM.) 


MATHILDA: 

SPRING IS HERE, THE BREEZES BLOWING, 

FOUR INCHES OF TOP-SOIL GOING, GOING; 

FARM DUCKS ROLLING ACROSS THE PRAIRIE; 

SPRING IS HERE -- NOW NICE AND AIRY! 

SUMMER HAS COME, 

THE HOPPERS ARE BACK, AHHH! 

SUMMER HAS COME, 

AND THE HOPPERS ARE BACK. 

MMM, OH THE SUN SHINES BRIGHT, 

AND THE FIELDS SHINE BLACK. 

CLOUDLETS GATHER, 

IT LOOKS LIKE RAIN -- M-HM -- 

WELL THOSE CLOUDLETS GATHER 

AND IT LOOKS LIKE RAIN. 

OH, THE PATTER OF HAIL 

ON THE WINDOW PANE! 

SARAH: BOUNTEOUS HARVEST, WE'LL SELL AT COST -- 

STEM: 


STEM: 

TOMORROW WE'LL HAVE AN EARLY FROST; 

GLORIOUS AUTUMN, RED WITH RUST; 

WE'LL LIVE ON THE GENERAL STORE ON TRUST.

18 

HIEBERT & SARAH: A LONG, QUIET WINTER WITH PLENTY OF SNOW, 

AND PLENTY OF BARLEY; IT'S EIGHTY BELOW, 

BARLEY IN THE HEATER, SALT PORK IN THE PANTRY, 

HOW NICE THAT YOU NEVER FEEL COLD IN THIS CANTRY! 

HIEBERT: In such rhymes -- "country" rhyming with "pantry" -- Sarah 

reveals her father's American heritage from the old south. 


Yeah, South Dakota. 

HIEBERT: That fall, Sarah wrote "The Farmer and the Farmer's Wife", 

her biggest publishing success, after "Ode to Spring." 


HIEBERT: 

Bigger, in a way. 

Bigger 

SARAH: Yeah, they published it in the Biggar Excelsior. Then 

reprinted it in The Times of Protuberance, Alberta, and the Climax 

Weekly. 

(STEM AND MATHILDA MIME THE SCENE.) 

MUSIC II:3 "THE FARMER AND THE FARMER'S WIFE" 


THE FARMER AND THE FARMER'S WIFE 

LEAD FROLICSOME AND CAREFREE LIVES, 

AND ALL THEIR WORK IS BUT IN PLAY, 

THEIR LABOURS ONLY EXERCISE. 

THE FARMER LEAPS FROM BED TO BOARD, 

AND BOARD TO BINDER ON THE LAND; 

HIS WIFE AWAKES WITH SHOUTS OF JOY, 

AND MILKS A COW WITH EITHER HAND. 

THEN ALL IN FUN THEY FEED THE PIGS, 

AND PLOUGH THE SOIL IN RECKLESS GLEE, 

AND PLAY THE QUAINT OLD-FASHIONED GAME 

OF MORTGAGOR AND MORTGAGEE. 

AND ALL DAY LONG THEY DASH ABOUT, 

IN BARN AND PASTURE, FIELD AND HEATH; 

HE SINGS A MERRY ROUNDELAY, 

SHE WHISTLES GAILY THROUGH HER TEETH. 

AND WHEN AT NIGHT THE CHORES ARE DONE, 

AND HAND AND HAND THEY SIT AND BEAM, 

HE HELPS HIMSELF TO APPLEJACK, 

AND SHE TO PARIS GREEN. 

HIEBERT: Thus concludes the great symphony. Sarah now prepared to 

move in new directions, just as Mathilda and Stem Grizzlykick moved in 

theirs. For now William Greenglow, the famous geologist and 

educationist, entered her rural idyll. To him goes credit for 

introducing Sarah to the science of Geology. 

(PROJECTOR SHOWS WILLIAM GREENGLOW.) 


HIEBERT: 

That’s William... It's him! Where did you find that photo 

Well, the records of the Willows School Board.

19 

SARAH: Oh, I admired him so much! I begged to lie among the 

fossils at his feet! It was he who gave me the great lines -- 

GREENGLOW (OFF): SHOULD MADDENED PTERODACTYL 

CHANCE TO MEET WITH RAGING CROCODILE, 

THEN CROCODILE THE PTERODACTYL EAT, 

OR PTERODACTYL EAT THE CROCODILE... 

(MUSIC UNDER) 

HIEBERT: We have no time here to explore the geology of Saskatchewan. 

But one can not hear this haunting refrain that Sarah employed in her 

final epic without identifying the primitive forces behind it. In the 

autumn of 1919, the year of the Willows oil boom, William Greenglow 

arrived at the High School. 


He hit town like an avalanche of Jurassic shale! 

(GREENGLOW ENTERS WITH GREAT ENTHUSIASM.) 

GREENGLOW: I am the new instructor of science, phys ed and English. A 

graduate of St. Midget's College, Manitoba. 

HIEBERT: Manitoba claimed him as a native son -- but has also 

disclaimed him. Owing to the fact that his library fines were never 

paid, Greenglow's academic record is not available to scholarship. 

GREENGLOW: I obtained a total of ten and a half units, fourteen 

credits, eleven and five-sixteenths pundits, during the first term of 

the second half of the first division. Transferring three pundits from 

the diploma course to the degree course of the second division, gives me 

a total of twenty-three half-credits, and entitles me to a degree at any 

university as Jack of Arts. 

(MUSIC ENDS.) 

SARAH (SIGHS): William Greenglow, J.A. 

HIEBERT: 

Greenglow's pedagogy was the essence of simplicity. 

SARAH: He kept us after school because we couldn't get through the 

substrata. It was hard with just one textbook. We were drilled -- but 

never bored. And a good time was had by all. 

HIEBERT: The effect of Greenglow's teaching on Sarah's poetic career 

was nothing less than volcanic. By June of that summer she had launched 

work on her great Epic, Up from the Magma and Back Again. 


Well, actually, Magma was written years later. 

HIEBERT: I realize all thirteen cantos were not completed until 

later, but surely they were conceived in Greenglow's class. 


Well yeah, if you mean I thought about it in school. 

HIEBERT: And surely the great "pterodactyl" refrain was composed 

during this period. 

GREENGLOW (OFF): SHOULD MADDENED PTERODACTYL CHANCE 

TO MEET WITH RAGING CROCODILE, 

THEN CROCODILE THE PTERODACTYL EAT,

20 

OR PTERODACTYL EAT THE CROCODILE... 

HIEBERT: The powerful lines that recur with deadly and unrelenting 

doom throughout the epic. Geology affected Sarah's life deeply. In 

family correspondence, she refers to her father's face as "palaeozoic," 

and to the younger Schwantzhacker sisters as "trilobites". 

SARAH: I always had a knack for big words, but William really 

stimulated them. 

HIEBERT: At any rate, the great Magma was forming in Sarah's mind, a 

foundation for the entire geo-literary school of poetry. At the time, 

Greenglow had been prospecting as a field geologist for the Millenium 

Exploration Company, looking for petroleum. It was a summer job, and he 

recruited Sarah. 

(PROJECTOR OF GREENGLOW AND SARAH PROSPECTING.) 

SARAH: The first day was a complete bust. William wanted to dig 

behind Dad's barn where he'd located ground seepage near the old 

threshing machine. But Dad said he only wanted us to drill where we 

might hit water. Dad was always so crustaceous. 

MUSIC II:4 "GUSHER CHORDS" 

(FIRST CHORD -- SUSTAIN) 

HIEBERT: They sank three wells with Jacob's old post-hole auger. The 

first shaft struck a placer deposit of harrow teeth at the three foot 

level ... (PIANO BUMPS) not rich enough to warrant further excavation. 

(SECOND CHORD -- SUSTAIN EVEN LONGER) 


HIEBERT: 

In the second shaft we hit the Pre-Cambrian at fifteen feet. 

Hopes ran high! 

GREENGLOW: In the Pre-Cambrian, oil deposits are to be found. 


Anything can happen in the Pre-Cambrian. 

GREENGLOW: If not oil then Beryllium. And if not beryllium, then 

bolognium! 

SARAH: Let me poke it with my stick! 

(PIANO GOES "BUMP" AGAIN) 


HIEBERT: 

This Pre-Cambrian is just a big boulder! 

The second shaft was abandoned, and work began on the third. 

(THIRD CHORD) 

SARAH: William was the official geologist, but I was in charge of 

digging. I got the trilobites to help. 

(PIANO SOUNDS A BASS NOTE.) 

GREENGLOW: We should go straight down to the Upper Silurian. Then we 

can circumvent the formation.

21 

TRILOBITE: 

I second that motion. 

SARAH (CHECKING THE BOOK): But the syncline in the Upper Silurian is 

actually the back of the anticline between the Preluvian and the Lower 

Galician. We have to dig another forty rods further west! 

TRILOBITE: 

I vote for William. 

HIEBERT: But Sarah prevailed. They moved west and began digging. On 

the third day, a gusher blew in at the thirty-five foot mark -- as Sarah 

had predicted. 

(PIANO DOES A FANFARE) 

SARAH: Unfortunately, it was water, not petroleum. And it wasn't a 

gusher so much as a kinda trickle. 

HIEBERT: Well, "gusher" may be hyperbolic. But if the oil content 

was disappointing, and its high alkaline content unsuitable for 

livestock, Binks determined to find a use for it. 

SARAH: Dad decided to channel it into a tank and make a batch of 

his father’s famed tonic of potassium bitters. So that worked out. 

HIEBERT: The curative power of Jacob Binks’ medicine can be variously 

described as retroactive, and radioactive. 


Active, anyways. 

HIEBERT: And Sarah's epic of thirteen cantos plus prologue and 

epilogue, would never have geysered without that thirty-five foot well. 

Up From the Magma was conceived if not written by its success. 

Unfortunately, Mr. Greenglow disappeared from the community shortly 

after, his term of duty incomplete. 

MUSIC II:5 "PTERODACTYL FRAGMENT 1" 

GREENGLOW(FADING): SHOULD MADDENED PTERODACTYL CHANCE TO MEET 

WITH RAGING CROCODILE.... 

(MUSIC FADES UNDER) 

HIEBERT: Heartbroken over Greenglow’s disappearance, Sarah turned 

anew to her father for guidance. She had always been baffled by the 

grizzled old man, and now she tried again to interpret his philosophy. 

(PROJECTOR SHOWS JACOB.) 

MUSIC II:6 "TO MY FATHER, JACOB BINKS" 


"To My Father, Jacob Binks". 

I USED TO THINK THE CUT-WORM AND THE WEEVIL, 

WERE THINGS THAT BLINDLY COME AND GO BY CHANCE, 

AND HESSIAN-FLY AN UNDILUTED EVIL, 

TO MAKE THE FARMER SHUDDER IN HIS PANTS; 

BUT NOW I KNOW THEY HOLD HIM TO HIS ACRE, 

FOR COULD HE EVER WIN AND TAKE HIS EASE, 

HE'D UP AND LEAVE HIS BINDER AND HIS BREAKER,

22 

AND GIVE THE PRECIOUS LAND BACK TO THE CREES. 

ALL: 

WOMEN: 

MEN: 

ALL: 

MATHILDA: 

JACOB: 

MATHILDA: 

JACOB: 

HIEBERT: 


ALL: 

TO THE CREES, TO THE CREES, 


HE'D UP AND LEAVE HIS BINDER AND HIS BREAKER, 


I USED TO THINK THE BEETLE AND THE HOPPER 

WERE BUT A PEST, BUT NOW I REALIZE 

THAT FRENCH-WEED AS A YIELD IS RIGHT AND PROPER, 

AND CUT-WORMS ARE A BLESSING IN DISGUISE; 

THAT RUST AND HAIL AND STEM-ROT ARE PROTECTION, 

AND WHAT WE CALL THE DROUGHT YEAR IS A MEANS 

TO KEEP THE FARMER ON HIS QUARTER-SECTION, 

ALTHOUGH IT MAKES HIM TREMBLE IN HIS JEANS. 

IN HIS JEANS, IN HIS JEANS, 


TO KEEP THE FARMER ON HIS QUARTER SECTION, 


THE THINGS THAT WE CALL TRIALS ARE A WARNING, 

THE THING WE CALL THE GOPHER IS A BOON, 

FOR SHOULD A CROP APPEAR SOME EARLY MORNING, 

THE FARMER WOULD BE GONE BY AFTERNOON; 

THE HOPPER SHOULD BE CHERISHED AND BE SHIELDED, 

AND HESSIAN FLY IS SOMETHING WE SHOULD TRUST-- 

IF WHAT WE CALL THE CROP IS EVER YIELDED, 

YOU'LL NEVER SEE THE FARMER FOR HIS DUST. 

FOR HIS DUST, FOR HIS DUST, 


IF WHAT WE CALL THE CROP IS EVER YIELDED, 



MUSIC II:7 "ODE TO A DESERTED FARM" 

HIEBERT: It was Sarah’s misfortune to live through the Dust Bowl. 

She could see the bleak future in her masterful eulogy to the family 

farm, "Ode to a Deserted Farm." 


HOW CHANGED AND BLEAK THE MEADOWS LIE 

AND OVERGROWN WITH HAY, 

THE FIELDS OF OATS AND BARLEY 

WHERE THE BINDER TWINED ITS WAY! 

WITH DOORS AJAR THE COTTAGE STANDS 

DESERTED ON THE HILL -- 

NO WELCOME BARK, NO THUDDING HOOF, 

AND THE VOICE OF THE PIG IS STILL. 

HIEBERT (SHAKING HIS HEAD IN ADMIRATION): "The voice of the pig is 

still." These were troubled times for the young Sarah, and 1930 proved

23 

to be a year of catastrophic events. First, the death of her faithful 

canine, Rover. 

MUSIC II:8 "ROVER" 

(PROJECTOR SHOWS ROVER.) 


I HAD A DOG WHO DANCED AND SPUN, 

WHO SPUN AND DANCED WHEN HE WAS YOUNG, 

AND WHEN HE BREATHED HE WHISTLED, 

FOR HIS HEART WAS FULL OF FUN. 

BUT HIS BREATH WAS COLOURED ASH-GREY, 

FOR HE HAD AN ASH-GREY LUNG: 

DEATH STRUCK HIM DOWN IN THE AFTERNOON; 

HENCEFORTH MY HEART IS FILLED WITH GLOOM. 

WHEN ON THAT DAY THE LAST BARK RINGS 

TO CALL THE DOG-LIKE THRONG, 

ROVER SHALL RISE AND DON HIS WINGS, 

AND RAISE HIS VOICE IN SONG; 

HE'LL RAISE HIS VOICE IN SONG AND SING, 

IN ECSTASY, OF DOG-LIKE THINGS. 

ROVER: 


ROVER: 

OWOOOOWOOOOWOOOO... 

AND WEAVING PATTERNS WITH THEIR TAILS, 

THE JOYOUS DOG-LIKE HOSTS, 

WILL LEAD HIM THROUGH CELESTIAL VALES, 

AND MILES AND MILES OF POSTS, 

TO MEADOWS FULL OF GOPHER HOLES, 

WHICH HE CAN SNIFF AND DIG FOR MOLES. 

OWOOOOWOOOOWOOOO... 

SARAH (with everyone else on "OWOOO"): 

THEN SHALL I SHOUT 

AND THROW A STICK, 

AND BOUNCE HIS BALL 

AND HIDE HIS BONE, OR STOP 

AND HELP HIM FIND HIS TICK, 

AND CALL HIM TO HIS HOME; 

HIS HOME WHERE HE CAN TAKE HIS EASE, 

IN SUNNY SPOTS AND SCRATCH HIS FLEAS. 

AND I SHALL TAKE HIM BY THE HAND, 

AND FEED HIM MUSH, AND PULL HIS EARS, 

AND HE WILL GRIN, AND UNDERSTAND, 

AND LICK AWAY THESE TEARS. 

ON THAT GREAT DAY OF THE FINAL BARK, 

ROVER (AS USUAL) WILL BEAT THE LARK. 

ALL: 

OWOOOOWOOOOWOOOO! 

HIEBERT: Through these desperate days, Sarah ground out even more 

heart-broken dirges typical of her farming period. Yet despite her 

growing fame in print, she remained a simple and unspoiled country girl. 

All this was to change with her journey to the big city, and the locus 

of her more sophisticated, later work. Of course many prefer her 

earlier simplicity, but if Sarah had never left the farm, her poetry 

would not have reached the heights of passion for which it became 

famous... Some critics credit this to -- Henry Welkin!

24 

(PROJECTOR SHOWS HENRY WELKIN, FLASHILY DRESSED. HE IS A SALESMAN 

WITH A FANCY SHIRT AND BOW TIE.) 


Oh! 

HIEBERT: Under his mentorship, you became immersed in the world of 

high culture. Do you recall your first encounter 

SARAH: I first seen Hank at the Willows General Store, where I was 

picking up a can of snoose for Dad. 

(WELKIN CRUISES IN.) 

HIEBERT: As the handsome figure of Henry Welkin crossed the street 

from Charlie Wong's, she sensed a quickening of the spirit. 


HIEBERT: 

WELKIN: 

HIEBERT: 

deer! 

Already I could feel a pome coming on! 

Welkin didn't bother with an introduction. 

Well -- hello, Babe! You must come from the countryside! 

Conventional words! But Sarah's soul leapt like a startled 

SARAH: He drove me home, and before the sun went down, he sold Dad 

a new tooth-harrow. 

HIEBERT: To Sarah's innocent eyes, Welkin appeared a glamorous 

figure, with all the charm of the worldly traveler. Before she left for 

the Big City, Sarah wrote, "Me and My Love and Me"... 

MUSIC II:9 "ME AND MY LOVE AND ME" 

HIEBERT: ... capturing her emotional turmoil in tones at once lyrical 

and subdued. 


OVER THE MOOR 

AT DUSK THERE FLED 

THE DISMAL CLOUDS, AND WE, 

FACING THE RAIN, 

WITH MIGHT AND MAIN, 

ME AND MY LOVE AND ME. 

THE SEA-GULL SCREAMED, 

THE REEDS WERE BENT, 

BUT HAND-IN-HAND THE THREE, 

WE HURRIED ON -- 

AGAINST THE WIND, 

ME AND MY LOVE AND ME. 

HIEBERT: From Willows to Regina, the Athens of Saskatchewan, is an 

enormous step. Sarah was overwhelmed. Regina glittered with 

sophistication, disturbing to the eyes of a country girl. She felt 

inferior, lost in the great city's splendour. How fortunate that Henry 

Welkin stood at her side, showing her the real Regina behind the 

glamour, the electric lights, the sky-scrapers on Albert Street. 


We rode back and forth on the street railway a dozen times!

25 

WELKIN: Hey, let’s go to the Mountie Museum! I'll show you the rope 

that hung Louis Riel! 

SARAH: We went to the Wascana bird sanctuary and together we 

studied the birds. 

WELKIN: Hey, I know! Let's check out the geology behind the 

Legislative building! 

HIEBERT: Henry Welkin was eager that his young protegee drink life to 

the fullest, but he may have erred in showing her too much too soon. 

Inevitably, her interest waned. 


WELKIN: 


I don't think I can stand one more implement warehouse! 

Let’s take a promenade around Wascana Lake. 

That miserable little swamp I could spit across it! 

MUSIC II:11 "MISERABLE LITTLE PUDDLE" (underscore) 

(WELKIN RUNS OFF AS SARAH’S BACK IS TURNED.) 

HIEBERT: This was not the old Sarah, responding to the eighth wonder 

of the world. With the abrupt disappearance of Henry Welkin, her 

whirlwind in the great capital came to an end. And yet - before we 

denounce Welkin as a scoundrel, we must concede that if he had not gone 

as fast and as far as he did, Prairie literature would be sadly 

impoverished. Months later, Sarah wrote that Henry Welkin embarked upon 

a writing career of his own and took to the pen. 


No, no. He got took to the pen! For some cheques he wrote. 

HIEBERT: Ah. In any case, Welkin was the third of Sarah's mentors to 

vanish into thin air, not counting Rover. She returned despondently to 

the Binks farm, and fell into a literary coma, which lasted two years. 

Even the Schwantzhackers were unable to arouse her. This period of 

silence, which Professor Marrowfat calls the Chasm of Gloom, marks the 

division between the two major periods of her work, periods we call the 

Pre-Regina, and Post-Regina, or simply, P.R. and P.R., respectively. 


My Darkest Hour. (SHE DRINKS) I couldn't write a word. 

HIEBERT: When she finally broke the silence two years later, it was 

with the short fragment which appeared in the Saskatoon Shopper. "They 

Arose." 

(PROJECTOR SHOWS THREE GHOSTS. ONE GREENGLOW, THE OTHER TWO HANK.) 


THEY AROSE, THREE DEAD MEN, 

STIFF AND DANK, 

FROM THE GLOOMY DEPTHS 

OF A WATER TANK; 

AND THEY BOWED FULL SOON 

TO THE RISING MOON, 

FOR THE ONE WAS BILL, 

AND THE OTHER TWO, HANK. 

(MUSIC SEGUES TO:)

26 

MUSIC II:13 "HIGH ON A CLIFF" 

HIEBERT: Sarah was clearly sublimating her emotions in this 

nightmarish verse. Though morbid, its bizarre imagery has ensured her 

place in Canadian Literature. My own favourite from this period is 

"High on a Cliff," where her images find relief in divine justice. 

(IMAGE OF A CORPSE AT SEA, MOONLIGHT GLINTING ON THE WAVES.) 


HIGH ON A CLIFF OF JASPER AND QUARTZ, 

I SATE AT NOON AND LOOKED UPON THE SEA, 

AND GAZED WITH LEADEN EYES UPON MY LOVE, 

DRIFTING BEYOND THIS SEEMING WORLD AND ME, 

MY LOVE, IN PINCHBACK COAT AND NEW PLUG HAT, 

DRIFTING UPON AN AMBER GLOWING SEA; 

AND GLOWING TOO, IN THE NOONDAY SUN, 

THREE FOUNTAIN PENS, WHERE THE RIPPLES RUN, 

A TRICK CIGARETTE CASE AND A PACKAGE OF GUM; 

WITH LEADEN EYES I WATCHED MY LOVE DRIFT BY, 

AND WATCHED THE RIPPLES BLENDING WITH THE SKY. 

HIEBERT: Like all writers of the wounded heart, Sarah sought refuge 

in nature. An old theme, which she elevated to new stature. In her next 

Post-Regina publication, she managed to shake off her gloom and inspire 

a whole new generation of Saskatchewanians through the popular press. 


MUSIC II:17 "DESPOND NOT" 

HIEBERT: 


... "Despond Not." 

DESPOND NOT, THOUGH TIMES BE BALE, 

AND BALEFUL BE, 

THOUGH WINDS BLOW STOUT, A HURRICALE, 

WHAT'S THAT, WHAT'S THAT TO YOU AND ME 

DESPOND NOT, THOUGH FRENZIED FEAR, 

AND PALE-LIKE HUE, 

MAY WHISPER PANIC IN THE EAR, 

WHAT'S THAT, WHAT'S THAT TO ME AND YOU 

DESPOND NOT, FOR SHAME SUCH SPEAK, 

ALOFT! ALOFT! 

TUT! WHISTLE LOW, WITH PEAKERED BEAK, 

SOFT, SOFT! 

DESPOND NOT! 

DESPOND NOT! 

DESPOND NOT! 

HIEBERT: The reception to this masterpiece in 1935 out-ranked even 

her earlier hit, "Ode to Spring." Prairie literature was at its lowest 

ebb. It had been a drought year, and several editions of The 

Horsebreeder's Gazette had appeared without a single line of poetry. 


A terrible time! 

HIEBERT: The publication of "Despond Not" in June, followed by a 

series of torrential downpours, touched powerful chords in the hearts of

27 

the parched drylanders. "Despond not!" Sarah Binks cried. "Despond 

not!" the people chorused back. It must have been uplifting. 

SARAH: Sure it was. And I was getting better-known, but I still 

hadn't earned a dime from my writing. That's when I decided to enter 

the McCohen and Meyers Livestock Conditioner poem contest. It was lucky 

I seen the announcement in Swine and Kine. First prize, ten dollars, 

for the best animal poem. Each entry had to be accompanied by three 

labels from McCohen and Meyers Stock Conditioner, but you could send in 

as many as you wanted. As long as it was about animals. 

HIEBERT: Sarah applied herself to the problem. She knew Jacob Binks 

needed an endless supply of stock conditioner, so she ordered up a few 

cases. Then all she needed was a new poem. 

SARAH: I'd already published "Calf", "The Goose", "Steeds", and 

"The Cursed Duck", and they weren't eligible - so I just sat down and 

came up with "Pigs". 

MUSIC II:19 "PIGS" 


THE MAN WHO RAISES PIGS FOR CASH 

MAY LEAP FOR JOY TO GIVE THEM MASH, 

AND LAUGH ALOUD TO MEDITATE 

THE LIVER SAUSAGE ON HIS PLATE, 

TRANSFORM THE BARLEY AND THE BEAN 

TO STRIPS OF FAT AND STRIPS OF LEAN, 

AND SEE ALL THINGS, HIS BARNS AND YARD 

AND WIFE AND CHILD IN TERMS OF LARD. 

BUT SUCH A MAN WITHOUT HIS WILL, 

MUST PAY THE PRICE IN MORE THAN SWILL, 

HIS MIND MAY DWELL ON PIG IN DEATH, 

BUT HIS EYES ARE CROSSED FROM HOLDING BREATH, 

AND HE WHO FOLLOWS WHERE HE GOES, 

MUST WEAR A CLOTHES-PIN ON HIS NOSE: 

OF ALL THE FARMER'S BIRD AND BEAST, 

I THINK I LIKE THE PIG THE LEAST. 

HIEBERT: How ironic that Sarah's literary triumph resounded in the 

celebration of the lowly hog. First prize and publication in Swine and 

Kine! This brought her work another whole legion of admirers. 


It was a crackerjack pome, okay. 

MUSIC II:20 "McCOHEN MUSIC" (underscore) 

(PROJECTOR SHOWS MCCOHEN) 

HIEBERT: In his memoirs, Proceedings of the Saskatchewan Bankruptcy 

Commission, 1930, Abraham McCohen recalled the controversy... 

MCCOHEN: I was the judge. Hersch Meyers counted the labels. We 

realized right away this Dinks kid was onto something, so I sez to my 

partner, I sez, this girl is going to be in show biz and we better keep 

an eye on her, there might be a percentage in it. So instead of a wall 

calendar of famous breeding sows like we generally handed out, we sent 

her one of our big horse thermometers. Sure, it cost a bit more but 

let's face it, she was stirring up a attention.

28 

SARAH: Inspired up by the monetary award, I decided to write my 

masterwork, Up From the Magma. It took from then till the spring thaw. 

HIEBERT: Rich in soil and rock and the meaning of life, the great 

epic would lead to the Wheat Pool Medal, awarded posthumously. 

SARAH: Well, it wasn't wrote in a day, but it was worth every 

slogging verse. 

HIEBERT: Jacob Binks presented her with a truly thoughtful Christmas 

gift -- a cubic yard of old auction bills he bartered from the Quagmire 

printshop. That winter, Sarah was happy, profoundly happy for the first 

time. The chores were light, the evenings long, and productive. 

SARAH: And I took the temperature of Dad's horses with my new 

thermometer every day. 

HIEBERT: Too little has been written about Up From the Magma and Back 

Again. No one except myself has ever read the work in its entirety. To 

untangle a cubic yard of closely inscribed manuscript is no light task. 

A few fragments have risen to the light, and continue to intrigue 

literary critics. 

MUSIC II:21 "PTERODACTYL FRAGMENT 2" 

GREENGLOW (OFF): SHOULD MADDENED PTERODACTYL 

CHANCE TO MEET WITH RAGING CROCODILE, 

HIEBERT: It is interesting to speculate on the heights Sarah might 

have achieved had Death not reached out with his unlikely instrument of 

fate. Alas -- the horse thermometer. The ghost of Sophocles must have 

chuckled ironically when that fateful rod, the symbol of Sarah's 

success, appeared in her life. 

MUSIC II:22 "DEATH SCENE" 

HIEBERT: Mercury poisoning is a dreadful death, swift and sure, as 

dramatic as the asp and the hemlock. Sarah was at the height of her 

powers, many years away from the senility which besets famous poets. An 

epidemic of hives swept the Prairies, and laid Sarah low, with only a 

horse thermometer as a guide. It was a coincidence that she was chewing 

on a Scotch mint, and bearing down at the moment she was taking her 

temperature -- cracked the thermometer and swallowed the mercury, about 

a tablespoon. 

(PROJECTOR SHOWS GRANITE MEMORIAL: HERE LIES SARAH BINKS.) 

MUSIC I:1 

CHORUS: 

"INTRODUCTION" 

THIS MONUMENT 

WAS ERECTED BY THE CITIZENS OF 

THE MUNICIPALITY OF NORTH WILLOWS, 

AND WAS UNVEILED ON THE FIRST OF JULY, 

NINETEEN HUNDRED AND THIRTY-ONE 

BY THE HONOURABLE AUGUSTUS E. WINDHEAVER 

IN THE PRESENCE OF THE REEVE AND COUNCIL. 

WINDHEAVER: HERE LIES SARAH BINKS... 

CHORUS: 

ALONE.

29 

HIEBERT: Some day, from Saskatchewan's fertile soil, another bard 

will inevitably spring, but in the meantime we honour her passing 

genius. The year after her tragic passing, Up From the Magma was awarded 

the Wheat Pool Medal and Sarah was acclaimed the Poet's Poetess. Never 

again would the Wheat Pool Medal be given for poetry. Now we say 

farewell to its owner, the magnificent Sweet Songstress of Saskatchewan. 

(HIEBERT TAKES SARAH'S HAND AND SINGS.) 

MUSIC II:24 "THE FINEST FLOWER" 

HIEBERT: 


THE FINEST FLOWER I HAVE KNOWN, 

THE RAREST BLOSSOM I HAVE MET, 

HAS GONE TO SEED, HER BEAUTY FLOWN, 

HER DAY IS DONE, HER SUN IS SET. 

THIS MAKES ME SCRATCH MYSELF AND ASK, 

"WHEN SHALL MY POWERS FADE" 

IT PUTS ME SEVERELY TO THE TASK, 

TO FACE THIS FACT UNDISMAYED. 

(TABLEAU OF HIEBERT KISSING SARAH'S HAND. BLACKOUT.

SARAH BINKS A MUSICAL TRIBUTE - Library2

Create successful ePaper yourself

Delete template?

Save as template?