[Magdalen] Beneath the Spreading Chestnut Tree.

[cantor03 at aol.com]

One of the small town Pennsylvania weekend festivals
in this region featured a blacksmith plying his trade.
 
This made me recall that our family home in NW Wisconsin
was within sight of a "classical' blacksmith shop.  There was
always the familiar clanking noise as the iron was shaped 
by the sweaty, blackened blacksmith whose name, of course
was Peer (Peter) Anderson.  He would have to have had a
Nordic name to survive in our village.
 
There was no spreading chestnut tree, however, since the
natural range of the now largely extinct American Chestnut
species did not include the Upper Midwest USA.
 
The Longfellow poem on this subject was required memorization
for us at the time.  We giggled privately about substituting
"...arms were strong as rubber bands" for the original "...strong
as iron bands."
 
 
David Strang.