Sarah Binks, A Musical Tribute - Library2

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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 by Paul Hiebert; 

permission granted.

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SARAH BINKS 

A MUSICAL TRIBUTE 

Book by Ken Mitchell 

Music by Douglas Hicton 

Lyrics by Paul Hiebert 

PLACE: Biggar, Sask., 1941. A meeting of the Sarah Binks Memorial Society. 

CHARACTERS: 

PAUL HIEBERT, the author and noted biographer: 50ish. 

SARAH BINKS, a young poet. sensitive but limited education. 1940s dress. 

TWO ACTORS (BASS & ALTO). They form the chorus of citizens. 

ACT ONE 

(LIGHTS UP ON A 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: 

CHORUS: 

HERE LIES SARAH BINKS... 

ALONE. 

(HIEBERT APPEARS. HE WILL USE THE MEMORIAL AS A LECTERN. 

MUSIC SEGUES TO:) 

MUSIC I:2 “HIEBERT’S ENTRANCE” 

HIEBERT: Welcome on this bittersweet occasion, the tenth anniversary of the 

passing of the great Sarah Binks, the Sweet Songstress of Saskatchewan. 

CHORUS: 

Hear, hear.

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HIEBERT: Many of you knew her personally, of course. Others have been 

drawn here tonight by the posthumous fame of her legendary pen. As her 

biographer, I think I may claim a small part in helping to build that growing 

pinnacle of fame for your illustrious icon. (You may purchase my book for a 

nominal fee at the end of the evening) You know something about her life -- you 

know of her tragic death. You may have read about the honours she received, 

including that highest award in the treasury of prairie culture, the Wheat Pool 

Medal. But what produces such a rare literary genius That is the question the 

biographer must answer. 

(MUSIC ENDS HERE) 

HIEBERT: 

dirt farm. 

MUSIC I:3 

It is a long way from the land of Shakespeare to a Saskatchewan 

“THE FARMER IS KING” 

But that same joy the mother tongue inspired in England's greatest, she also 

inspired in Sarah. When she crooned euphorically about her stretch of gumbo, 

as in "the Farmer is King," she sang for the Canadian West. 

(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, 

AND ALL THE BUILDINGS BEHIND THE GATE 

OF 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 OF HIS OWN QUARTER SECTION. 

This was the Golden West in the early years of the century, the halcyon 

days of dryland farming. Such prosperity and expansion naturally produced an 

artistic cornucopia as well. It's fair to say that Sarah Binks expressed the artistic 

soul of the wheat province. Her love for the alkaline soil was genuine. She 

believed in the nurturing of crops, and every fall, she spread her poetic fertilizer 

with a lavish hand. 

(SARAH APPEARS ON AN ELEVATED PLATFORM ABOVE HIEBERT, 

OBSERVING) 

HIEBERT: Unschooled and unspoiled, this simple country girl captured the 

essential flatness of her native landscape, its abundant wildlife, the richness of

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its insect population. Like a sylph she wandered its bluffs and coulees and 

gopher meadows, in a divine frenzy. 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

I never went in no gopher fields. I couldn't stand the dirty things! 

Sarah! 

Don't mind me. I'm just here to correct any mistakes. 

HIEBERT: Oh, I'd be delighted to accept any revisions you might propose. 

From the horse's mouth, as it were. Your spirit was moved to attend! 

SARAH: 

Could say that. 

HIEBERT: And as your most humble biographer, I will inform the public how 

you transcended the soil of Willows, Saskatchewan. How would -- you describe 

Willows 

SARAH: Well, that ain't easy. It's about halfway between Oak Bluff and 

Quagmire. What else do they have to know 

HIEBERT: Oh well -- I have described its civic architecture as -- 

unpretentious. Just a post office, and a two-room school. 

SARAH: Well, what about Charley Wong's restaurant and billiard parlour 

Wasn’t that a civic building It was pretentious! Plus two hotels. The 

Clarendon. 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 

(Conservative). 

And the Commercial. 

(Liberal). 

SARAH: Plus a drug store, and four gas stations! We weren't exactly some 

backwoods village, like you said in your book! 

HIEBERT: But you agree that the town is now sadly declined -- eclipsed by its 

glorious past. Yet to this shrine every year go hundreds like these members of 

the Binks Memorial Society who can pause for the briefest refreshment at the 

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

SARAH: Actually, I never spent a lot of time in Willows itself. Dad's 

homestead was ten miles outta town. 

HIEBERT: When Jacob Binks first ploughed his homestead, the boundless 

and empty plains stretched far away to where, as Sarah said,

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SARAH: 

"The hand of man hath never trod." 

HIEBERT: Then let us begin at the prairie farm! Of course, the house has 

long since fallen to reckless souvenir hunters, and the barn is about to collapse. 

Gophers now frolic in the little corral where Sarah kept her famous calf, not far 

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

wanders unafraid.. 

SARAH: 

Actually, the calf never made it out of the box stall. 

HIEBERT: Jacob Binks's original sod hut was eventually replaced with a 

clapboard shack of mean appearance. 

SARAH: 

Hey, it was covered with quality tar paper! 

HIEBERT: Guests entered through the "back porch," a small antechamber 

where coal was stored, along with the cream separator, and the winter potatoes. 

SARAH: 

The busted harness. 

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

Rover, the Dog. 

(LIGHTS UP ON ALTO AS ROVER, STRETCHING.) 

SARAH: 

And Ole, the hired man. 

(LIGHTS UP ON BASS AS OLE, SNORING.) 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

Ole slept in the porch 

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

HIEBERT: Ah. And just inside the kitchen door hung the very calendar which 

has been preserved in the provincial archives and enables us to date her early 

poems. "Calf" for example. Professor H. P. Marrowfat has called much attention 

to the entry for April 1, 1911, which bears the distinct note, "C-A-F-F". What 

happened on April the first, Sarah 

(SARAH LOOKS DISTRESSED, BEGINS TO WEEP.) 

MUSIC I:4 

SARAH: 

“OH, CALF” 

It was -- it was the day my calf died! 

HIEBERT: Could you -- would you -- 

SARAH: 

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

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(SARAH POSITIONS HERSELF BRAVELY. LIGHTS UP ON THE ALTO 

AS DEAD CALF). 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

One of her finest odes. 

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 

SARAH: 

OH CALF, I SIT AND LANGUISH, CALF, 

WITH SOMBER FACE, I CANNOT LAUGH, 

CAN I FORGET THE PLAYFUL BUNTS 

HIEBERT AND SARAH: 

OH CALF, CALF, THAT LOVED ME/HER ONCE! 

SARAH: 

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 TAKE HANKIES FROM THEIR BOSOMS AND 

HONK.) 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 

You learned early about the cruel world of nature. 

Oh yeah. I had to weed the garden and pick the tater bugs, too! 

Yet you plodded on with your schooling. You must have. 

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

Dad on the farm. 

HIEBERT: He was opposed to your education But wasn’t he a member of 

the North Willows School Board 

SARAH: Yeah. They elected him every year, just like clockwork. He ran on 

the slogan, "No dam sense in all this book learning! Cut the taxes!" 

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

she took her lessons in the school of nature. Nature to her, was something alive. 

Give Sarah a dead field mouse, a crocus, or a jam pail full of sowbugs, and 

poetry gushed forth unbidden, unrestrained and uncalled for.

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MUSIC I:5 

“THE GENIUS” 

For example, the youthful fervor and innocence shown in "The Genius". That she 

was aware of her calling and at the same time conscious of her limitations is 

demonstrated in this little gem of self-revelation -- at the age of 12. 

SARAH: 

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! 

(MUSIC SEGUES TO:) 

MUSIC I:6 

“THE POET” 

HIEBERT: Thus Sarah herself in the divine frenzy. No other poet has so 

captured the soul of Saskatchewan. Her formal education may have been scant, 

but she never let that go to her head. Indeed the riper style of another 

adolescent poem captures her youthful joie de vivre. "Hark, Like a mellow fiddle 

moaning." 

SARAH: 

HARK! LIKE A MELLOW FIDDLE MOANING 

SARAH & HIEBERT: 

THROUGH THE REED-GRASS SIGHING, 

THROUGH A GNARLED BRANCH GROANING, 

SARAH: COMES THE POET - 

SYLPH-LIKE - 

BOTH: GAUNT-LIKE - 

POEMING - 

SARAH: 

AND HER EYES ARE STARS, 

HIEBERT: AND HER MOUTH -- 

SARAH: 

-- IS FOAMING.

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HIEBERT: Heavenly. Heavenly. Of course, there were many influences on 

Sarah's early work besides the world of nature. There was Rover, the dog, Ole 

the Hired Man, Mathilda Schwantzhacker, the romantic William Greenglow, and 

the dark figure of Henry Welkin. 

SARAH (STARTLED): 

Henry Welkin Do we have to talk about him 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

All right, Sarah, a little later then. 

You know all about Henry Welkin 

HIEBERT: Sarah, I have made your life and work my own life and work. I 

know everything about you there is to know. Well, almost everything. One 

burning question still remains and that is the source of your philosophical 

profundity. Which of your mentors -- 

SARAH: 

Philosophy That was Dad, fer sure. 

(LIGHT UP ON BASS AS JACOB BINKS.) 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

JACOB: 

HIEBERT: 

MUSIC I:7 

Jacob Binks 

Oh yes. He was full of pithy sayings. For instance: 

"Last sardine in the can always gives the most oil!" 

Remarkable. 

“FATHER, THY BEARD” 

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

Agathea Binks. None of the other children survived their infancy, and Agathea 

Binks either died or abdicated while Sarah was still a child, and she was brought 

up by her father. 

SARAH: 

wisdom. 

ALTO: 

BASS: 

ALTO: 

BASS: 

My earliest memories are of sitting at his knee, drinking in his 

"FATHER, THY BEARD NO LONGER POINTS, 

THY VOICE HAS LOST ITS SHRILL!" 

"MY GIRL, I QUAKE WITHIN THE JOINTS, 

GOOD LUCK HATH TURNED TO ILL." 

"FATHER, THY FACE IS TURNING GREEN, 

THOU LOOKEST LIKE THE HELL!" 

"MY GIRL, THE THINGS ARE WHAT THEY SEEM,

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GOOD LUCK HATH SOUND ITS KNELL; 

BASS: 

ALTO: 

BASS: 

YON PIP-BIRD THAT WE SAW THIS MORN, 

PRESAGES MONETARY CLASH, 

AND SOON THEY'LL TAKE OUR HARD-EARNED CORN, 

CONVERT IT INTO CASH; 

THEY'LL TAKE THE HARD-WROUGHT CORN 

AND LEAVE US NOTHING BUT THE SHORTAGE, 

THEY'LL STRIP THE COWS, UNBELL THE BEEVES, 

TO MEET THE CHATTEL MORTGAGE." 

"OH FATHER, FATHER, WE MUST FLY, 

OH FATHER, WE MUST OUT!" 

"MY GIRL, HERE'S MUD INTO YOUR EYE, 

MY JOINTS PREDICT A DROUGHT." 

HIEBERT: Professor Marrowfat's contention that Sarah's early philosophical 

poems may have been authored by her father Jacob do not bear critical scrutiny, 

as he was clearly an unlettered man. 

SARAH: 

As unlettered as they get! 

HIEBERT: Yet I believe that sometime after you became famous, he was 

presented as a candidate for election by the Quagmire and Willows Liberal 

Association 

SARAH: Yeah, but that was after he died, and had already been turned 

down by the Conservatives. 

HIEBERT: While Sarah may have been immature, she was still capable of 

jumping to her own conclusions, of course, as she does in "Crisscrossers", a 

poem which admirably demonstrates her skill in philosophical dialectic, which 

has unmistakable echoes of the senior Binks. 

MUSIC I:8 

JACOB: 

“CRISSCROSSERS” 

MY GIRL, IF YOU SHOULD 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, YOUNG SARAH & HIEBERT: GO MARK HIM WELL, 

AND WALK BEHIND, 

HIS GAIT BESPEAKS THE COSMIC MIND. 

GO MARK HIM WELL, AND WALK BEHIND -- 

HIS GAIT BESPEAKS THE COSMIC MIND.

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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: Rarely has prairie wisdom reached such heights. "To read the 

cosmos like a slate"! Jacob Binks had been a crisscrosser on more than one 

occasion. On election night, indeed after any political forum, he practised the 

crisscross on his way home from town. Ole, inspired by his example, engaged in 

many attempts to achieve the "cosmic mind," but never succeeded. 

SARAH: 

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

(LIGHTS UP ON OLE, LUMBERING TO HIS FEET.) 

HIEBERT: No. No. But to Ole the hired man, cheerful hard-working Ole, big of 

heart and big of feet, must surely go the honour of being the seminal influence 

on young Sarah's early work. Ole's family name is not known, or was soon 

forgotten. He was a big man, with hands that swung at his sides like slabs of 

teak. He had shoulders of gnarled oak. 

SARAH: 

MUSIC I:9 

And a head to match. 

“THE HIRED MAN ON SATURDAY NIGHT” 

(FIRST STING) 

HIEBERT: Ole was noted for his strength, and could toss Sarah's bosom 

friend, Mathilda Schwantzhacker, from the ground to the hayloft with great ease, 

even though she was eighteen and already ample for her age. 

(SECOND STING)

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HIEBERT: Sarah found their relationship a source of great inspiration, and 

here the deeply romantic motif appeared for the first time in Sarah's early work. 

In "The Hired Man on Saturday Night," ... 

(VAMP BEGINS HERE) 

HIEBERT: 

OLE: 

... she captures Ole's spirit in a moment of grand ecstasy. 

A HORSE! A HORSE! GIVE ME A HORSE, 

TO DASH ACROSS THE FROZEN NORTH, 

AND WALLOW IN THE MIRE. 

A NOBLE BARB WITH CLOVEN HOOF, 

WITH BRAZEN WINGS AND BLATANT SNOOF, 

AND MOLTEN EYES OF FIRE. 

WITH GATHERED RAGE OF MANY AN AGE, 

I'LL BLOT THE BOAR FROM OFF THE PAGE, 

AND TWIST HIS FACE; 

I'LL SMITE THE ROOSTER IN THE SNOW, 

AND CRAFTY ROVER, DUMB WITH WOE, 

SHALL CURSE HIS RACE. 

I'LL TIE A REEF KNOT IN THE TAIL 

OF BARNEY'S BULL -- WITH TOOTH AND NAIL 

I'LL FILL HIS DAY WITH GLOOM; 

THE CALF SHALL WAIL, THE COW SHALL QUAIL, 

THE HORSE SHALL TOTTER AND GROW PALE -- 

GIVE ME ROOM! GIVE ME ROOM! GIVE ME ROOM! 

HIEBERT: It would appear that on Ole's one free evening of the week he 

showed a hostility to farm animals which included even Rover. This early poem 

may not reach the high standard Sarah usually sets for herself. In my opinion, 

she describes Ole more eloquently in "Steeds," where the Swede's natural 

effervescence is combined with the magnificent rhythm of galloping horses. 

MUSIC I:10 “STEEDS” 

HIEBERT: The occasion of this poem was the late afternoon of election day, 

1911, when Ole disappeared with two gallon jugs of horse-medicine he was 

transporting with his team from the Liberal 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,

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JOYFULLY PREPARE TO RIDE 

O'ER THE BIG AND OPEN SPACES; 

ALL: 

OLE: 

ALTO: 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

OLE: 

ALTO: 

HIEBERT: 

WHOOPEE! SWIFT ACROSS THE STUBBLE, 

OVER SHOULDERS, BANKS AND RUBBLE, 

UP THE HILL AND DOWN THE GLEN, 

CROSS THE COUNTRY -- BACK AGAIN, 

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: On an even less abstract plane is the short poem, "The Cursed 

Duck", in which Sarah reveals her deep humanity following the loss of one of 

Ole's ears on a Sunday morning. The Binks ducks had a taste for vegetables 

and we deduce from this bittersweet ballad that Ole inadvertently fell asleep in, 

or near, the vegetable patch the night before, on his return from Willows. 

MUSIC I:11 “THE CURSED DUCK” 

SARAH: 

OLE: 

SARAH: 

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. 

(LIGHT UP ON ALTO AS MATHILDA SCHWANTZHACKER.) 

SARAH: 

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.

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HIEBERT: It is a curious fact that all the influences in Sarah's life were 

masculine -- with the exception of Mathilda Schwantzhacker. 

MUSIC I:12 “MATHILDA 1” (very short) 

HIEBERT: Yet even here, despite their close female companionship, Mathilda 

served more as a foil for Sarah's poems than as an inspiration. The world of 

feminist criticism must acknowledge a great debt to these pioneer women, for 

without Mathilda's dynamic presence, the great Gryczlkaeiouc (pron. 

Gritchelkay’uke) symphony that announced Sarah's maturity would never have 

been composed. 

MUSIC I:13 “OLE AND MATHILDA” 

(MATHILDA AND OLE PLAY OUT A SCENE.) 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 

Mathilda lived half a mile up the road… 

…the youngest of the thirteen Schwantzhacker girls. 

SARAH: Old Kurt Schwantzhacker was an independent cuss. He thought 

they had everything they needed on their farm. All them girls thought different, 

however, and came trooping over to entertain Ole every time they had a spare 

minute. 

HIEBERT: Ole was deeply moved by the sight of thirteen Schwantzhackers 

picking their way through the cow pasture. They were a dramatic spectacle. 

Both he and Sarah preferred Mathilda's company above all. She was by far the 

most intelligent -- 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 

Anyways, the least cross-eyed- 

-- and the only one with a sense of the Orphic muse. 


MUSIC I:14 “WHERE SHALL I FIND A HIRED MAN” 

It was presumably at Mathilda Schwantzhacker's behest that Sarah wrote that 

splendid tribute to Ole's manhood. "Where Shall I Find a Hired Man" 

MATHILDA: WHERE SHALL I FIND A HIRED MAN 

FOR HOMELY DESTINY TO TOIL, 

TO MEND HARNESSES, 

AND SHOVEL CEMENT, 

AND BOIL OIL. 

WHERE SHALL I FIND A HIRED MAN

14 

TO GATHER ROCKS AND DO THE CHORES, 

TO HARROW WIDE, 

AND PLOW DEEP, 

THE BIG OUTDOORS. 

WHERE SHALL I FIND A HIRED MAN 

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' 

HIEBERT: At a recent meeting of The Ladies Literary League of Quagmire, it 

was decided to have this poem carved upon Ole's tombstone, wherever it is. In 

proposing a raffle to pay for the monument, Mrs. Pete Cattalo paid a tribute to 

Ole as well as to Sarah when she said… 

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

you can take it from me." 

SARAH: He certainly caused a stir. After he took off to join the Canadian 

army, Mathilda was a wreck for a long time. That's when we got into translatin' in 

German. 

HIEBERT: In her grief, Mathilda turned to German literature and introduced 

Sarah to the culture of her homeland. 

MUSIC I:15 “THE LAUREL’S EGG” 

HIEBERT: With the help of Mathilda's dictionary, Sarah translated several 

songs from the Teutonic tongue, the best known being "Die Lorelei". 

SARAH: 

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.

15 

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 translation of the river Rhein as the river "Clean" is 

masterful, though she makes an understandable error in translating Die Lorelie 

as "The Laurel's Egg". All in all, it must be confessed that translation is not her 

forte... She is often too literal, and tends to lose, if not the content, perhaps the 

spirit of the original. More successful, certainly is her translation of Heine’s "Du 

Bist Wie Eine Blume." 

MUSIC I:16 “YOU ARE LIKE ONE FLOWER” 

SARAH: 

YOU ARE LIKE ONE FLOWER, 

SO SWELL, SO GOOD, AND CLEAN, 

I LOOK YOU ON AND LONGING, 

SLINKS ME THE HEART BETWEEN: 

ME IS AS IF THE HANDS I 

ON HEAD YOURS PUT THEM SHOULD 

PRAYING THAT GOD YOU PRESERVE, 

SO SWELL, SO CLEAN, AND GOOD. 

HIEBERT: It is fashionable now to dismiss Sarah's translations, as they are 

not a true expression of Saskatchewan culture. On the contrary, I say. It is the 

duty of the poetic muse to speak in a multicultural babble to obtain the truest 

expression of prairie harmonies. This relationship with the Schwantzhackers 

suddenly put Sarah under a cloud of patriotic suspicion, and to prove her love of 

country, she immediately sat down and wrote out this emotional hymn of 

patriotism and sacrifice to commemorate their old friend Ole, serving in the fields 

of Flanders. 

MUSIC I:17 “FREEDOM”

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ALL: 

SHALL FREEDOM SHRIEK AGAIN, 

SHALL FREEDOM WAIL, 

OR STAND AT LAST, AGHAST, 

WITH UNFURLED TAIL, 

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: As compelling as this martial anthem is, it is, of course, a poetic 

digression, for it was the pastoral simplicity of the barren plains that inspired her 

finest lyrics. 

MUSIC I:18 “ODE TO SPRING” 

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

spring in Saskatchewan: 

SARAH: 

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-BANK 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' created a furore when it was published in The 

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

people. It had been a miserable winter. The roads were blocked, and 

thermometers were registering temperatures of sixty-eight to seventy-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, if not yet famous, at least a local celebrity.

17 

Poetry began pouring out of her like water from a fountain, as if to satisfy the 

thirst of the population for literary sustenance. 

MUSIC I:19: “SONG TO THE COW / THE GOOSE” 

HIEBERT: She immediately sat down to write "Song to the Cow" and "The 

Goose," both of which reveal a love for the bucolic life that was deep and 

abiding. 

SARAH: 

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. 

HIEBERT: 

BOTH: 

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: At this critical juncture of her career, the poetess conceived her 

greatest work, the suite of poems now referred to as the Gryczlkaeiouc (pron. 

Gritchelkay’uke) Symphony. In this she immortalized a new love affair of her 

friend and confidante, Mathilda Schwantzhacker. 


HIEBERT: Mathilda, of florid health and forceful mind, was an unlikely 

inspiration for a lyrical outburst. For one thing, she was exaggerated in her 

movements, as Sarah had observed in their playful games with Ole. "Auntie, 

Ante up!" they cried, or "Catch-me-if-you-can" as they ran between the barns and 

the buggy sheds on Sunday afternoons. In this Amazonian creature, Sarah 

found a subject of absorbing interest. She probably knew more about Mathilda 

than Mathilda knew about herself. 

SARAH: 

More than she suspected, anyhow.

18 

HIEBERT: It is not our purpose here to fully analyze the intricacies of the 

Gryczlkaeiouc (pron. Gritchelkay’uke) Symphony. So much has been said and 

written about this collection of powerful love lyrics that anything I add must be 

superfluous... But no serious assessment would be complete without 

considering the throbbing beauty, the pulsating circum… 

SARAH: 

all. 

You just had to know Stem Gryczlkaeiouc (pron. Grizzlykick), that's 

(LIGHT UP ON BASS AS STEM. HE IS A ROUGH FARMER.) 

HIEBERT: Among Mathilda's many admirers was one Stemka 

Gryczlkaeiouc… uh Grizzlykick…, known throughout the community, at least in 

the Commercial House, as "Stem." 

SARAH: 

Or “Steve” as he came to spell it. 

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

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

production of various alcoholic beverages, a hobby which allowed him to take up 

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

conservationist, for he rarely killed gophers except in self-defence, 

merely removing their tails for the bounty money. This sound environmental 

practice provided him a steady income without depopulating the land. It was for 

Stem and Mathilda that Sarah composed the famous Grizzlykick Symphony. 

MUSIC I:21 “SQUARE DANCE” 

(MATHILDA MEETS STEM STAGE CENTRE.) 

HIEBERT: 

Her dearest friend was in love and hoping to get married! 

SARAH: Actually, she wasn't really in love, and fer a long time they weren't 

exactly married -- but it was all grist for my mill. They met at a dance in the 

schoolhouse. 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

"The Square Dance". 

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

19 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 

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, 

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. 

MATHILDA: SWING DAISY, SWING BETTY, 

STEM: 

SARAH: 

SWING MAISIE AND LETTY, 

SWING MIRABEL, MARGIE AND JOY. 

MATHILDA: SWING MRS. MCGINTY, 

STEM: 

SARAH: 

SIX FEET AND SQUINTY, 

TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY -- AND COY. 

(ALL SQUARE DANCE) 

ALL: 

SING HO, FOR THE DANCE, 





SING "ELEBEN-LEFT!" 

SING HO!

20 


MUSIC I:22 “SEGUE MUSIC” 

HIEBERT: There is some evidence that Stem had observed Mathilda before 

this time and admired her from afar. The poem, "Hi, Sooky, Ho, Sooky" exists in 

holograph only in Stem's cryptic handwriting, but through it we can identify 

Sarah's inimitable style. 

(SARAH HANDS STEM A PAPER. MUSIC SEGUES TO:) 

MUSIC I:23 “HI, SOOKY, HO, SOOKY” 

STEM: 

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.... 

MATHILDA: SOOKY, SOOKY, SOOOOOOKY! 

STEM: 

BOTH: 

STEM: 

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... 

MATHILDA: SOOKY, SOOKY, SOOOOOOKY!

21 

STEM: 

BOTH: 

STEM: 

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... 

MATHILDA: SOOKY, SOOKY, SOOOOOO! 

COMPANY: HI, SOOKY, HO, SOOKY, 

COME AND GET THE STEW, SOOKY, 

COME AND GET YOUR GOO, SOOKY, 

SOOKY, SOOKY, SOOOOOOOO! 

HIEBERT: It is a long poem for Sarah. Her skill lies in the compression of 

shorter verse, which many critics feel shows her greatest charm. Nevertheless 

Professor H. Marrowfat rates this one of her finest. 

(LIGHT ON MARROWFAT) 

MARROWFAT: "Another poem like this and Sarah could give the whole heynonny-nonny 

school of poets Aces and Jacks." 

HIEBERT: Love ripened fast in the bracing prairie climate. Two days after the 

publication of "The Square Dance"," Sarah reached a new zenith. In "The 

Plight," Mathilda's adoration for Grizzlykick is expressed through the symbolism 

of a simple 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 matter of considerable 

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

lyrical, triumph. 

MUSIC I:24 “THE PLIGHT” 

SARAH: 

IS THIS THE TREE 

THAT SAW OUR 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,

22 

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 course of romance did not run smooth, however, as we 

observe through Sarah's intrepid commentary. In her next gem, "The Proposal," 

we sense a cautious joy for the approaching nuptials. Although external evidence 

indicates that the piece was written in anticipation of the event, the computations 

of Professor Taj Mahal, in his definitive mathematical study of the incidence of 

short vowels in the Binksian canon, have proven that this poem was written at a 

later period. The controversy rages through the literary journals. Professor 

Marrowfat plumps for a contemporary date, and contends that Stem was, in her 

words:… 

MARROWFAT: 

…"galloping down the home stretch to the marriage altar". 

HIEBERT: It seems that Stem obtained a job to improve his fortune, and he 

appears here as the "hired man", not to be confused with the absent Ole. 

MUSIC I:25 “PROPOSAL” 

(STEM AND MATHILDA TAKE POSITIONS.) 

SARAH: 

STEM: 

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,"

23 

SARAH: 

TO THE MAID THE HIRED MAN. 

(THE COUPLE DANCES.) 

MATHIDA: 

SARAH: 

"OH NOT SO FAST," 

THE MAID REPLIED. 

MATHILDA: "IN THIS I AM IMMUTABLE. 

I FEAR YOUR LOVE WOULD WEAKEN, 

THOUGH YOUR ARDOUR'S INDISPUTABLE; 

LOVE MAY WANE AND LOVE MAY WAX, 

MINE CAN ONLY THRIVE ON FACTS. 

WORK A YEAR AND WE SHALL SEE," 

SARAH: 

CRIED THE MAIDEN MODESTLY. 

(STEM AND MATHILDA DANCE A FEW BARS AND HALT IN A TABLEAU) 

HIEBERT: Sarah could see that the path of true love was beginning to deviate. 

Perhaps it was not the season for consummation; perhaps the legend of the 

inconstant lover induced coyness in the otherwise enthusiatic -- nay, demanding 

-- Mathilda Schwantzhacker. 


HIEBERT: In any case, there was a long winter of silence in Sarah's work, to 

be followed in spring with a new chapter in this great classic of courtship. For 

sheer saccharine elegance, few poems in the entire Symphony approach that 

universal favourite, "The Wedding Dress." Mathilda was already assembling her 

trousseau and, in defiance of Schwantzhacker tradition, was ordering a gown 

from the Eaton's catalogue. 

MUSIC I:27 “THE WEDDING DRESS” 

HIEBERT: Dr. Mahal points out, with his usual mathematical precision, that 

wedding dresses that year were four inches shorter than the present mean 

length. 

(LIGHTS UP ON MATHILDA, PREGNANT.) 

MATHILDA: ON PAGE TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY-THREE, 

OH, THERE'S THE VERY DRESS FOR ME, 

THE PRICE IS RIGHT, 

SARAH: 

THE SIZE IS TIGHT,

24 

MATHILDA: THE COLOUR RED, AND GREEN, AND WHITE, 

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

OH, THAT'S THE DRESS FOR ME! 

CLEAR." 

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 – SARAH: "TO 

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 was denied this modern-day Heloise and 

Abelard, however. Some circumstance caused a postponement of their union, 

possibly the unconfined joy which Stem found in his beloved potato champagne, 

possibly the need to construct a bridal palace. In evidence, we have Sarah's 

short fragment, 

SARAH (to the tune of “Ode to Joy”): 

SOON OLD STEVE WILL HAVE TO BUILD A 

TWO-ROOM SHANTY FOR MATHILDA.... 

HIEBERT: The holograph was located on an outbuilding of the Binks's farm. It 

has never been fully authenticated as Sarah's work and is often ascribed to one 

of Mathilda’s Schwantzhacker siblings. That Mathilda and Stem were wed at all 

seems confirmed by one of Sarah's later poems, "Lullaby," now recognized as 

the final movement in the magnificent Grizzlykick Symphony. 

SARAH: It came out in my first book publication, British Lullabies Since 

1900. Here's what Lord Inchworm said in his preface: 

LORD INCHWORM: "The British Empire has produced very sweet lullabies 

in its day, but for sheer opiate and saccharine quality few have excelled that of 

the Canadian poetess Sarah Bonks. I have never yet succeeded in reading it 

through; the last time I started, I fell asleep and slept like a child for hours." 

MUSIC I:28 “LULLABY” 

HIEBERT: 

A great tribute, to a great poem. "Lullaby."

25 

(MATHILDA AND BABY [BASS] APPEAR.) 

SARAH: 

SLEEP, MY DARLING, SLEEP AWAY, 

DADDY'S GONE TO TOWN WITH HAY, 

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) 

SARAH: 

SLEEP, MY PRECIOUS, CLOSE YOUR EYES, 

MOTHER'S SOLD ON PLATES FOR PIES, 

AND TOMORROW -- 

BABY: 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. 

(MATHILDA PUTS HIM TO SLEEP.) 

HIEBERT: Thus concludes the great symphony. Sarah was preparing to 

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

theirs. For it was at this time that William Greenglow, the geologist and 

educationist, entered her rural idyll. To him goes the credit of introducing Sarah 

to the science of Geology. 

MUSIC I:29 “FINALE ACT ONE” 

(LIGHTS UP ON SCHOLAR WILLIAM GREENGLOW. HE CARRIES A 

FAT TEXT BOOK. THE SLOW PART OF THE FINALE STARTS HERE; LET 

THE FINAL CHORD OF THIS SECTION FADE NATURALLY) 

SARAH: 

William. You're back!

26 

HIEBERT: 

scholarship. 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 

inaccurate. 

SARAH: 

He can't speak to you, Sarah. He is a creation of my literary 

Huh 

A re-enactment. Of course, you may correct anything you feel is 

I admired you, William! I begged to join the fossils at your feet! 

HIEBERT: Perhaps we should pause for a moment in this literary 

retrospective. Sarah's nerves have been unsteady since her untimely passing, 

and I will have a word with her privately. 

(THE FASTER SECTION STARTS HERE) 

HIEBERT: 

Let us adjourn for a few minutes. For a coffee. 

(THEY GO OUT. MATHILDA AND GREENGLOW SWEEP ALONG 

BEHIND THEM, MOCKING THEIR ATTITUDE. TO BLACK.)

27 

ACT TWO 

MUSIC II:1 

“OPENING ACT TWO” 

(LIGHTS UP ON BASS AS GREENGLOW) 

GREENGLOW: 

MEET 

SHOULD MADDENED PTERODACTYL CHANCE TO 

WITH RAGING CROCODILE, 

THEN CROCODILE THE PTERODACTYL EAT, 

OR PTERODACTYL EAT THE CROCODILE... 

(LIGHTS UP ON HIEBERT AT THE PODIUM. MUSIC UNDER) 

HIEBERT: It is not our task to explicate the geology of Saskatchewan. Not at 

all. But one can not hear the haunting refrain from Sarah Binks's great epic 

without pausing to identify the primitive forces behind its torturous creation. 

Indeed, we must become excavators and prospectors of the highest order - to 

obtain some comprehension of the Prediluvian Age and the subsequent wave of 

geological activity which burst upon the community of Willows during the autumn 

of 1919 - the year of the Willows oil boom -- the autumn that William Greenglow 

arrived at the High School as instructor of English, science and phys ed. 

SARAH: 

He struck us like an avalanche of Jurassic shale! 

GREENGLOW: I am your new instructor from Manitoba, and a graduate of 

St. Midget’s College, Winnipeg. 

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

him. And owing to the fact that his library fees 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 of Jack of Arts. 

SARAH (SIGHS): 

William Greenglow, J.A. 

(GREENGLOW PRESENTS A MASSIVE TOME.) 

GREENGLOW: This will be your assigned text. First Steps in Geology, by 

Warden and Rockbuster. 

SARAH: 

Our bible!

28 

HIEBERT: In any event, St. Midget’s loss was Sarah's gain, for his deficiency 

in pundits brought him to rural Saskatchewan. 

SARAH: 

fountain." 

HIEBERT: 

Dad used to say, "Information gushed outta him like soda from a 

In his first report, Greenglow enthused about his new assignment. 

GREENGLOW: They take to geology like the Board of Trade. At present the 

juniors are out on practical work, classifying the field boulders into big ones, little 

ones, and in between ones, earning the necessary units and credits. Only half 

the seniors were here today, and she wouldn’t be here either, if I hadn’t created 

a postgraduate division. That’s Mathilda. Boy, does that kid know her geology! 

The other half is the Binks girl, who was off helping her old man with the haying. 

I lent her my copy of Warden and Rockbuster, which came back with two pages 

missing, fortunately not the ones containing my last year’s notes. 

HIEBERT: Greenglow's pedagogy was the essence of simplicity. To teach his 

class geology, he required that they teach it to him. 

SARAH: He sometimes kept Mathilda and me after school because we 

couldn't seem to get through the substrata. It was hard with just one copy of the 

textbook. 

MATHILDA: We were drilled -- but never bored. And a good time was had by 

all. 

HIEBERT: Greenglow's geological influence on Mathilda was sedimentary, but 

the effect of his teaching on Sarah's poetic muse was nothing less than volcanic. 

(WAIT FOR “JUNE” CHORDS) 

… No later than June of that summer she had begun her great Epic, Up from the 

Magma and Back Again. 

SARAH: 

Strictly speaking, The Magma was written later. 

HIEBERT: I realize that the thirteen cantos were not completed until many 

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

SARAH: 

Well yeah, if you mean I started thinking about them in school. 

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

period. (HE CHECKS) The lines are written in the flyleaf of this very book! 

GREENGLOW: 

MEET 



THEN CROCODILE THE PTERODACTYL EAT,

29 

OR PTERODACTYL EAT THE CROCODILE... 

HIEBERT: Precisely! The powerful lines that recur with deadly and 

unrelenting doom throughout the epic. And surely the eloquent quatrain from the 

Epilogue was composed at this time. 

ALTO: 

MAN, WHO IS CREATURE OF THE MOMENT JIST, 

IS YET A FOSSIL IN MICACEOUS SCHIST, 

TOMORROW'S DAY, HIS BONES ARE BLEACHED & BENT, 

A SOMETHING FOR THE ARCHAEOLOGIST. 

SARAH: Yeah, I thought that up that same fall. But it wasn't till years later 

that I got the lines that finished it off, and then I put it all together. 

MAN, WHO HAS SPURNED 

AND MADE MY HEART TO HURT, 

IS BUT A CREATURE AND A THING OF DIRT, 

A THING OF MUD, OF CLAY, 

VOLCANIC ASH, OLD BRICK, 

CINDERS, BROKEN CEMENT, CHERT. 

(ALL THREE SING THEIR VERSES TOGETHER, THEN END WITH:) 

SARAH, GREENGLOW, ALTO: 

SHOULD MADDENED PTERODACTYL CHANCE TO MEET 


THEN CROCODILE THE PTERODACTYL EAT, 

OR PTERODACTYL EAT THE CROCODILE! 

HIEBERT: So it was years later when you had time to absorb and reflect. 

During the Post-Regina (pron. Regeena). Period. 

SARAH: 

Yeah, after Regina. 

HIEBERT: Geology affected Sarah's life deeply. In family correspondence, 

she refers to her father's facial expressions as "palaeozoic," and to Mathilda as 

“the thirteenth trilobite". 

SARAH: 

I always had a knack with big words, and William stimulated them. 

HIEBERT: Yet despite Greenglow's overburdened vocabulary, she never lost 

her taste for the simple imagery of pastoral Saskatchewan. 

SARAH: 

MUSIC II:2 

HIEBERT: 

Been in too many pastures, I guess. 

“SONG TO THE FOUR SEASONS” 

For example, hearken to "Song to the Four Seasons."

30 

(LIGHTS COME UP ON MATHILDA AND JACOB.) 

SARAH: 

ALTO: 

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 -- 

JACOB: 

SARAH: 

JACOB: 

TOMORROW WE'LL HAVE AN EARLY FROST; 

GLORIOUS AUTUMN, RED WITH RUST; 

WE'LL LIVE ON THE GENERAL STORE ON TRUST. 

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 

the influence of her father’s American heritage from the genteel old south. 

SARAH: 

Yeah, South Dakota. 

HIEBERT: Before the end of October, Sarah wrote "The Farmer and the 

Farmer's Wife", the next big success, after "Ode to Spring." 

SARAH: 

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.

31 

HIEBERT: 

MUSIC II:3 

SARAH: 

Never mind. "The Farmer and the Farmer's Wife." 

“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: Despite such bucolic exercises, the great Magma was forming in 

Sarah's mind, and with it the entire geo-literary school of poetry. Greenglow had 

been prospecting for some time, as a field geologist for the Millenium Exploration 

Company, for a fee conditional upon his discovery of any petroleum reserves. 

(LIGHTS UP ON GREENGLOW AND MATHILDA PROSPECTING.) 

SARAH: The first day was a total bust. William prospected a spot behind 

Dad's barn where he'd located seepage from the ground, near the old threshing 

machine. 

HIEBERT: Jacob Binks took exception to the original site, and consented to 

drilling only when the possibility of a water supply for his livestock was pointed 

out. 

SARAH: 

MUSIC II:4 

Dad was always so crustaceous. 

“GUSHER CHORDS”

32 

(FIRST CHORD -- SUSTAIN) 

HIEBERT: They dug three separate shafts 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) 

SARAH: 

fifteen feet. 

In the second shaft we discovered the Pre-Cambrian Shield at 

HIEBERT: Hopes ran high again! In the Pre-Cambrian, oil deposits could be 

reasonably expected. 

SARAH: 

Anything can happen in the Pre-Cambrian. 

GREENGLOW: 

bolognium. 

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

HIEBERT: It was Sarah, poking down the shaft with a long stick, who made 

the actual discovery. 

(PIANO GOES “BUMP BUMP” AGAIN) 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 

well. 

The Pre-Cambrian Shield is just a big field boulder! 

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

(THIRD CHORD) 

SARAH: I was in charge of digging, though William was the official field 

geologist. Then we had our first professional quarrel. 

(PIANO SOUNDS A BASS NOTE THAT SUSTAINS AS LONG AS POSSIBLE) 

GREENGLOW: I say we go straight down to the Upper Silurian. Then we 

can either circumvent the formation or go around it. 

MATHILDA: 

I vote for that. 

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. 

If we go by the book, we have to move a good forty rods further west! 

MATHILDA: 

I vote for William.

33 

HIEBERT: But Sarah prevailed. They moved to the gopher meadow and 

began digging. On the third day, a gusher blew in at the forty-five foot mark, just 

as Sarah had predicted. 

(PIANO DOES A FANFARE) 

SARAH: 

It wasn't a gusher so much as a kinda trickle. 

HIEBERT: But in Up From The Magma the thirteenth trilobite gets soaked and 

drenched with oil when the magma blows! 

SARAH: Yeah, then she catches the flu and dies. It's all poetic 

licentiousness. That's different than the real thing. 

HIEBERT: Well, "gusher" may have been hyperbole. But if the oil content was 

disappointing, Greenglow was quick to note its high alkaline content, and 

channeled the flow there was into a mixing tank to make Jacob Binks's famed 

tonic of dandelion bitters. 

GREENGLOW: The curative power of this medicine can be variously 

described as retroactive, and radioactive. 

SARAH: 

Active, anyways. 

HIEBERT: Sarah’s monumental epic of thirteen cantos plus prologue and 

epilogue, would never have geysered without that forty-five foot well, though as 

Professor Taj Mahal points out, 

MAHAL: "It is 10 degrees and four minutes off the perpendicular, a deviation 

unacceptable to the professional scientist". 

HIEBERT: One can only hope that the violent indignities visited upon the king 

of the trilobites in Up From the Magma had no reference to Mr. Greenglow, who 

left the community shortly after, his term of duty incomplete. 

(GREENGLOW GOES OUT.) 

MUSIC II:5 “PTERODDACTYL FRAGMENT 1” 

GREENGLOW: 

MEET 


WITH RAGING CROCODILE.... 

(MUSIC FADES UNDER THE NEXT PARAGRAPH) 

HIEBERT: In despair over the loss of Greenglow, Sarah turned in bafflement 

to the grizzled old man she had never understood and tried to interpret his 

philosophy afresh.

34 

(LIGHTS UP ON JACOB.) 

MUSIC II:6 

SARAH: 

“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, 

AND GIVE THE PRECIOUS LAND BACK TO THE CREES. 

ALL: 

WOMEN: 

MEN: 

ALL: 

ALTO: 

BASS: 

ALTO: 

BASS: 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

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,

35 

ALL: 

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: No doubt Sarah visualized this Dust Bowl scene - when she wrote 

those famous lines, inscribed years later in bronze over the gateway of St. 

Midget’s College, "Ode to a Deserted Farm." 

SARAH: 

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 sad and troubled times for the young Sarah. 1926 was to be a 

year of cataclysmic events. First came the death of her faithful canine squire, 

Rover. 

MUSIC II:8 

“ROVER” 

(LIGHTS UP ON ROVER.) 

SARAH: 

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,

36 

IN ECSTASY, OF DOG-LIKE THINGS. 

ROVER: 

SARAH: 

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, young Sarah continued grinding 

out her heart-broken dirges. Despite her growing fame in print, Sarah remained 

a simple and unspoiled country girl. Had Sarah never left the farm, her poetry 

would never have reached the heights of passion for which it became justly 

famous… Enter Henry Welkin! 

(LIGHTS GO UP ON HENRY WELKIN, FLASHILY DRESSED. 

HE IS A TRAVELLING SALESMAN WITH A SHIRT AND BOW TIE.) 

HIEBERT: Under his tutelage Sarah became immersed in the world of high 

culture at last. 

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

crate of eggs and picking up a can of snuff for Dad.

37 

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

from Charlie Wong's, she sensed that quickening of the spirit whereby the great 

have always recognized the great. 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 

WELKIN: 

As soon as I seen him, I felt a pome coming on! 

They didn't bother with an introduction. Welkin simply said: 

Well -- hello, Babe! You from the countryside 

HIEBERT: Conventional words! Rendered almost meaningless through a 

thousand repetitions. But Sarah's soul lept like a startled deer! 

SARAH: That afternoon he drove me home, and before the day was out, he 

sold Dad a new tooth-harrow. 

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

he had youth and poise, all the charm of the worldly traveller. In the brief interval 

between their meeting and their trip to the Big City, Sarah wrote "Me and My 

Love and Me"... 

MUSIC II:9 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

“ME AND MY LOVE AND ME” 

... capturing her inner struggle 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, was an 

enormous step. Sarah was overwhelmed. (BUSINESS) Regina glittered with 

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

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

Welkin standing at her side in this hour, showing her the real Regina behind the 

glamour, (BUSINESS) the electric lights, (BUSINESS) the sky scrapers on 

Albert Street. (BUSINESS) Twice they went to the Trianon Ball Room. 

(LIGHTING CHANGE.)

38 

MUSIC II:10 “INVITATION TO THE DANCE” 

SARAH: 

"Invitation to the Dance". 

(WELKIN AND SARAH PERFORM A COMIC WALTZ.) 

SARAH: 

COME TREAD ME THE MEASURE, 

I GIVE YOU THE PLEASURE, 

THE ONE-STEP, THE TWO-STEP, OR THREE, 

THE POLKA SO TENDER, 

YOU'LL ALWAYS REMEMBER, 

WITH JOY IF YOU TREAD IT WITH ME. 

YOU'LL BE GLAD THAT WE MET -- 

TO THE CLARIONETTE 

WE'LL SWING AND WE'LL TWIST ON THE FLOOR, 

WITH A BOUND WE WILL MOUNT, 

TO THE MIDDLE AND COUNT -- 

ONE-TWO-THREE, ONE-TWO-THREE -- FOUR. 

(WELKIN & SARAH WALTZ OFF AS MUSIC FADES) 

HIEBERT: We do not know for certain how long Sarah stayed in Regina with 

Henry Welkin. Professor Marrowfat limits the period to two weeks. Doctor Taj 

Mahal, a stickler for precision, has made a careful study of the railroad 

timetables and concludes that the visit could not have lasted less than ten days. 

Sarah herself remained silent on this question -- the modesty of an aesthete -- 

but let us say twelve days. What a twelve-day adventure it was! 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

We took dozens of rides on the street railway! 

Visited the RCMP museum. 

The Regina Fair! 

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

fullest. He took her to the Wascana bird sanctuary and the public library, and 

together they studied the birds and the books. 

SARAH: 

buildings. 

We went and checked out the geology behind the Legislative 

HIEBERT: Henry Welkin may have erred in showing her too much too soon. 

But if he had not gone so fast and so far, Prairie literature would have been 

much impoverished. An inevitable reaction of jaded boredom appeared in her 

notes back home.

39 

MUSIC II:11 “MISERABLE LITTLE PUDDLE” (underscore) 

SARAH: 

it. 

Wascana Lake was a miserable little puddle. I coulda spit across 

HIEBERT: This was not the Sarah we know, responding to one of the eight 

wonders of the world. 

SARAH: 

HIEBERT: 

The implement warehouse on South Railway was more interesting! 

The excursion drew to a close. 

(HENRY WELKIN RUNS OFF FROM SARAH AS HER BACK IS TURNED.) 

HIEBERT: Later, Sarah learned that Henry Welkin had embarked upon a 

writing career of his own and took to the pen. 

SARAH: 

No, no. He got took to the pen! For writing cheques. 

HIEBERT: In any event, Henry Welkin disappeared from Sarah's life - the third 

of her companions to do so, not counting Rover. Sarah returned despondently 

to Jacob Bink's farm. She fell into a literary coma, which appeared to last for 

months. The Schwantzhackers were unable to arouse her. This period of 

silence which Marrowfat calls the Chasm of Gloom, marks the sharp division 

between the two major periods of her work, periods we scholars call the Pre- 

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

SARAH: 

write a dot. 

I call it My Darkest Hour. (SHE DRINKS) For a while I couldn't 

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

short fragment which appeared in The Beam, of Vigil, North West Territories. 

MUSIC II:12 “MY DARK HOUR” 

SARAH: 

WITH GRIEF ENGRAVEN ON MY SOUL, 

I CANNOT ROLL IN GLEE, 

THE ROBIN'S NOTE IS BUT A DIRGE, 

THE BISCUIT-BIRD GRITS ME. 

HIEBERT: This is a muse which plumbs the subsoil of human depression. But 

for sheer morbidity, nothing could top the electrifying impact of the next poem, 

which appeared a month later in the Saskatoon Shopper. "They Arose." 

THEY AROSE, THREE DEAD MEN, 

STIFF AND DANK, 

FROM THE GLOOMY DEPTHS

40 

OF A WATER TANK; 

AND THEY BOWED FULL SOON 

TO THE RISING MOON, 

FOR THE ONE WAS BILL, 

AND THE OTHER TWO, HANK. 


MUSIC II:13 “HIGH ON A CLIFF” 

HIEBERT: Clearly, Sarah was sublimating her feelings into this nightmarish 

verse. My own favourite from this sequence is "High on a Cliff." 

SARAH: 

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. 


MUSIC II:14 “WHEN I’M BURIED” 

HIEBERT (SPEAKING OVER THE ALTO & BASS HUMMING INTRODUCTION 

TO SONG): The tranquility she was seeking proved difficult to find. Perhaps 

the despondency of her life is illustrated by this ballad fragment: 

SARAH: 

WHEN I'M BURIED IN A GRAVEYARD, 

AND THIS FEEBLE FLAME IS SNUFFED, 

WILL A SPOTTLED MAGPIE MURMUR, 

MUTELY SIGH WITH RUFF UNFLUFFED 


MUSIC II:15 “PERHAPS SOME DAY” 

HIEBERT: Sarah was capable of beginning a poem with a ray of hope - 

SARAH: 

PERHAPS SOME DAY I'LL TWANG THE HARP, 

AND SMITE THE LUTE WITH JOYFUL SOUND; 

BERIBBONED AND BEDECKED IN GAY,

41 

I'LL RIDE AROUND AND 'ROUND. 

HIEBERT: -- only to find her heart faltering in the second verse, plunging again 

into morbid reveries of death: 

SARAH: 

BUT THEN PERHAPS IN UNKNOWN GRAVE, 

BY BURDOCK BLOWN AND BOOT BETROD, 

I'LL LIE A FULL SEVEN AND A HALF FEET DEEP, 

AND PUSH THE DAISIES THROUGH THE SOD. 

HIEBERT: Of course, this is not Sarah at her absolute best. On the other 

hand, it is not her absolute worst. But her lines now sometimes fail to scan, 

although Mahal maintains that Sarah deliberately introduces an additional 

anapestic foot in the second-last line to emphasize the extra half foot of grave 

depth. Miss Diana Baby-Bunting, the noted London literary critic, in Over the 

Teapot describes it as, 

DIANA: 

"Exquisite, exquisite." 

HIEBERT: There is a decidedly Russian strain of melancholia running through 

the P.R. poems, but we can still recognize Sarah's gloom as inimitably Prairie. 

Or, as Sarah was wont to echo... 

SARAH (in a fading echo): Next year, next year, next year.... 

HIEBERT: Labour may have been her salvation. In her next breath in "The Song 

of the Chore" she leapt from "the winter blahs" to a new existentialist credo. 

MUSIC II:16 “SONG OF THE CHORE” 

SARAH: 

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"!

42 

SARAH: 

OTHER 3: 

SARAH: 

OTHER 3: 

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: Like other writers of the wounded heart, Sarah ultimately sought 

refuge in nature. This was an old theme, but somehow she elevated it to new 

stature. And in her next Post-Regina publication, she managed not only to 

regain her joie de vivre, but to inspire a whole new generation of 

Saskatchewanians through the popular press... 

MUSIC II:17 “DESPOND NOT” 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

... "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 of this poem in 1930 out-ranked even her earlier hit, 

"Spring." Prairie literature was at one of its occasional low ebbs. It had been a 

drought year, and several editions of The Horsebreeder’s Gazette had appeared 

without a single line of poetry. The appearance of "Despond Not" in June, 

followed by a series of torrential downpours, touched forgotten chords in the 

hearts of the people. 

"Despond not!" Sarah Binks had cried. "Despond not!" the people of 

Saskatchewan rejoined.

43 

MUSIC II:18 “WINDHEAVER MUSIC” (underscore) 

HIEBERT: "Despond not!" cried the Honorable Augustus Windheaver at the 

unveiling of Sarah's monument a year later. 

WINDHEAVER: Despond not! I quote you the words of your own great 

poetess, than whom there is no greater in this great Province of which I have the 

honour to be Minister of Pest Control and Foreign Affairs. Despond not! Come 

drought, come rust, come high tariff and high freight rates and high jinks, I say to 

you, as I have already said to the electors of Quagmire and Pelvis, that a 

Province that can produce a poetess like Sarah Binks under the government we 

had four years ago, full of graft and incompetence and wasting the taxpayers' 

money, and what about the roads I want to say -- that a Province that can 

produce such a poetess may be down -- but is never out! 

(START MUSIC FADE HERE) 

SARAH: Sure I was getting to be well-known, but I still hadn't earned a 

single dime from my writing. That's when I decided to enter the poem contest 

sponsored by the McCohen and Meyers Stock Conditioner Company. It was just 

lucky I seen the announcement in Swine and Kine. 

(MUSIC OUT) 

SARAH (continuing): 

The prize was 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. 

HIEBERT: Sarah applied herself to the literary problem. Jacob Binks needed 

a virtually endless supply of stock conditioner and Sarah had a menagerie of 

farm animals to choose from. 

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

Cursed Duck", so they weren't legit… 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

…so, in Sarah’s words… 

I just sat down and came up with "Pigs". 

MUSIC II:19 “PIGS” 

SARAH: 

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,

44 

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 form of 

the lowly pig. First prize and publication of "Pigs" in Swine and Kine! This 

brought her work to another legion of admirers. 

SARAH: 

It was a crackerjack pome, right up their alley. 

HIEBERT: Even more astonishing was the storm of protest from the general 

public. This outraged howl surprised the hardened contest holders themselves. 

They were accustomed to disgruntled contestants, but this was new. Hundreds 

of people wrote in protest at the results, trying to return their stock conditioner. 

SARAH: 

It was pure artistic jealousy! 

HIEBERT: It beclouded this new star on the literary horizon. Some letters 

claimed that as a semi-professional poetess, Sarah was ineligible. Others 

accused the judges of favoritism, and declared that Sarah had snagged first 

prize by playing to McCohen and Myer's proven penchant for pigs. 

SARAH: 

office. 

HIEBERT: 

SARAH: 

It turned out that all twelve letters came from the Willows post 

The trilobites 

You said it. 

MUSIC II:20 “McCOHEN MUSIC” (underscore) 

HIEBERT: In his memoirs, Proceedings of the Saskatchewan 

Bankruptcy Commission, 1930, Abraham McCohen recalled the controversy… 

MCCOHEN: I myself was the judge. Herschel Meyers counted the labels. We 

realized right away from the protests that 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 we sent her one of our horse 

thermometers, instead of the wall calendars of famous breeding sows we

45 

generally handed out. Sure, a thermometer costs a lot more but let's face it, she 

was stirring up a lot of notice. 

SARAH: Fired up by this great award, I decided to complete my masterwork, 

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

HIEBERT: The great epic, whose outline she had only sketched in during the 

Greenglow era, now took real form and meaning. Rich in soil and rock and the 

meaning of life, it would lead directly to the Wheat Pool Medal, awarded 

posthumously. 

SARAH: 

Well, it wasn't wrote in a day, but it was worth every slogging verse. 

HIEBERT: That winter, Sarah was happy for the first time, profoundly happy. 

The chores were light, the evenings long, and Jacob Binks brought her a special 

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

printshop. 

SARAH: Mathilda helped over the winter. And we took the temperature of 

Dad's horses with my thermometer prize every day. 

(MUSIC OUT) 

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

Again. Except for myself, no one has ever read the work in its entirety. To read 

a cubic yard of closely inscribed manuscript is no light task. Yet a few fragments 

have risen to the light, and continue to mesmerize literary critics. 

MUSIC II:21 “PTERODACTYL FRAGMENT 2” 

GREENGLOW: 

MEET 



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

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

destruction. Alas, the horse thermometer, without which Up From the Magma 

would never have been completed! The gods of Greek drama must have 

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

appeared. 

MUSIC II:22 “DEATH SCENE” 

HIEBERT: Mercury poisoning can be a dreadful death, swift and sure, yet as 

dramatically satisfying as the asp and the hemlock. Sarah was at the height of 

her powers, many years away from the senility which besets acclaimed poets. It 

is no coincidence that the epidemic of hives which swept the Prairies in 1931 

found Sarah with a horse thermometer which registered six degrees too high. It

46 

is no mere coincidence that she had been given a bag of Scotch mints, and 

bearing down upon one at the moment she was taking her temperature -- 

cracked the thermometer and swallowed the mercury, a whole tablespoon. 

There was no stopping it. Death loves a shining mark; the Fates tied the final 

knot in the web -- and in Sarah. What more can be said The year after her 

tragic passing, Up From the Magma won the Wheat Pool Medal. Sarah was 

acclaimed the Sweet Songstress of Saskatchewan, the Poet's Poetess. Never 

again would the Wheat Pool Medal be given for poetry, and it was retired to its 

resting place. 

MUSIC II:23 “GIVE ME A LINE” 

HIEBERT: As if anticipating her own demise, Sarah had polished a poem 

suitable for a requiem. 

HIEBERT: GIVE ME A LINE TO FLING AT FAME, 

THAT DEALS NOT … 

SARAH (joining in then continuing alone): …WITH THE WOES OF MAN, 

WHOSE TROUBLES OF THE DAY AND DAME 

ARE WRIT IN WRINKLES ON HIS PAN; 

THAT FURROWED STORY OF HIS TRIALS, 

AND CALENDAR OF YEARS ON EARTH, 

MAY NOBLE BE - BUT GIVE ME DIALS 

THAT SPLIT FROM EAR TO EAR IN MIRTH. 

EACH WINTER'S FROSTBITE, AND THE BUG 

THAT GREETS THE SPRING, WILL LEAVE ITS MARK, 

AS WELL AS SORROW ON THE MUG 

OF INFANT, YOUTH, AND PATRIARCH -- 

BUT ALL THOSE RECORDS OF THIS VALE 

OF TIME, AND LIFE'S ENNOBLING GRIEF, 

EMBOSSED IN GOTHIC OR IN BRAILLE, 

I'D LEAVE TO OTHERS, JUST AS LIEF. 

HIEBERT: The Sweet Songstress. Who shall take her place Some day, 

from Saskatchewan's ever fertile soil, another genius will inevitably spring. 

MUSIC II:24 “THE FINEST FLOWER” 

HIEBERT: Until then -- until then, a simple shaft of composition defines her 

achievement. 

(SINGS) 

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.

47 

SARAH: 

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. 

MUSIC SEGUES TO:) 

MUSIC II:25 “BOWS” 

COMPANY: SING HO, FOR THE DANCE, 





SING "ELEBEN-LEFT!" 

SING HO!

Sarah Binks, A Musical Tribute - Library2

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