Skip to content
Storgy

The Annotated Edition

MARTHY'S YOUNKIT by Eugene Field

Summary, meaning, line-by-line analysis & FAQ.

Read aloud in ~6 minOpen reading mode →

A small child referred to as "Marthy's younkit" lives and dies on Red Hoss Mountain in a Colorado mining camp, prompting the entire community to mourn together.

Poet
Eugene Field
Themes
death, memory, nature
The PoemFull text

MARTHY'S YOUNKIT

Eugene Field

The mountain brook sung lonesomelike, and loitered on its way Ez if it waited for a child to jine it in its play; The wild-flowers uv the hillside bent down their heads to hear The music uv the little feet that had somehow grown so dear; The magpies, like winged shadders, wuz a-flutterin' to an' fro Among the rocks an' holler stumps in the ragged gulch below; The pines an' hemlocks tosst their boughs (like they wuz arms) and made Soft, sollum music on the slope where he had often played; But for these lonesome, sollum voices on the mountain-side, There wuz no sound the summer day that Marthy's younkit died. We called him Marthy's younkit, for Marthy wuz the name Uv her ez wuz his mar, the wife uv Sorry Tom,--the same Ez taught the school-house on the hill, way back in '69, When she marr'd Sorry Tom, wich owned the Gosh-all-Hemlock mine! And Marthy's younkit wuz their first, wich, bein' how it meant The first on Red Hoss Mountain, wuz truly a' event! The miners sawed off short on work ez soon ez they got word That Dock Devine allowed to Casey what had just occurred; We loaded up an' whooped around until we all wuz hoarse Salutin' the arrival, wich weighed ten pounds, uv course! Three years, and sech a pretty child!--his mother's counterpart! Three years, an' sech a holt ez he had got on every heart! A peert an' likely little tyke with hair ez red ez gold, A-laughin', toddlin' everywhere,--'nd only three years old! Up yonder, sometimes, to the store, an' sometimes down the hill He kited (boys is boys, you know,--you couldn't keep him still!) An' there he'd play beside the brook where purpul wild-flowers grew, An' the mountain pines an' hemlocks a kindly shadder threw, An' sung soft, sollum toons to him, while in the gulch below The magpies, like strange sperrits, went flutterin' to an' fro. Three years, an' then the fever come,--it wuzn't right, you know, With all us old ones in the camp, for that little child to go; It's right the old should die, but that a harmless little child Should miss the joy uv life an' love,--that can't be reconciled! That's what we thought that summer day, an' that is what we said Ez we looked upon the piteous face uv Marthy's younkit dead. But for his mother's sobbin', the house wuz very still, An' Sorry Tom wuz lookin', through the winder, down the hill, To the patch beneath the hemlocks where his darlin' used to play, An' the mountain brook sung lonesomelike an' loitered on its way. A preacher come from Roarin' Crick to comfort 'em an' pray, 'Nd all the camp wuz present at the obsequies next day; A female teacher staged it twenty miles to sing a hymn, An' we jined her in the chorus,--big, husky men an' grim Sung "Jesus, Lover uv my Soul," an' then the preacher prayed, An' preacht a sermon on the death uv that fair blossom laid Among them other flowers he loved,--wich sermon set sech weight On sinners bein' always heeled against the future state, That, though it had been fashionable to swear a perfec' streak, There warn't no swearin' in the camp for pretty nigh a week! Last thing uv all, four strappin' men took up the little load An' bore it tenderly along the windin', rocky road, To where the coroner had dug a grave beside the brook, In sight uv Marthy's winder, where the same could set an' look An' wonder if his cradle in that green patch, long an' wide, Wuz ez soothin' ez the cradle that wuz empty at her side; An' wonder if the mournful songs the pines wuz singin' then Wuz ez tender ez the lullabies she'd never sing again, 'Nd if the bosom of the earth in wich he lay at rest Wuz half ez lovin' 'nd ez warm ez wuz his mother's breast. The camp is gone; but Red Hoss Mountain rears its kindly head, An' looks down, sort uv tenderly, upon its cherished dead; 'Nd I reckon that, through all the years, that little boy wich died Sleeps sweetly an' contentedly upon the mountain-side; That the wild-flowers uv the summer-time bend down their heads to hear The footfall uv a little friend they know not slumbers near; That the magpies on the sollum rocks strange flutterin' shadders make, An' the pines an' hemlocks wonder that the sleeper doesn't wake; That the mountain brook sings lonesomelike an' loiters on its way Ez if it waited for a child to jine it in its play.

Public domain

Sourced from Project Gutenberg

§01Quick summary

What this poem is about

A small child referred to as "Marthy's younkit" lives and dies on Red Hoss Mountain in a Colorado mining camp, prompting the entire community to mourn together. The poem traces the boy's journey from his joyful birth through three cherished years of life, followed by his death from fever, his funeral, and his burial next to the brook where he played. Field envelops the entire narrative in the sounds of the mountain — the brook, the pines, the magpies — making it feel as though nature itself grieves and watches over the child for eternity.

§02Themes

Recurring themes

§03Line by line

Stanza by stanza, with notes

  1. The mountain brook sung lonesomelike, and loitered on its way / Ez if it waited for a child to jine it in its play;

    Editor's note

    Field opens with nature already in mourning, even before we understand the reason. The brook "loiters" — it hesitates, as if it can't bear to flow on without the child who once played beside it. Each part of the landscape (wildflowers, magpies, pines) is infused with emotion, reinforcing the poem's central idea that the natural world cherished this boy just as much as his loved ones did. The dialect spelling ("lonesomelike," "jine," "uv") immediately immerses us in the rugged voice of a Colorado mining camp.

  2. We called him Marthy's younkit, for Marthy wuz the name / Uv her ez wuz his mar, the wife uv Sorry Tom,

    Editor's note

    The narrator takes a moment to share the backstory. Marthy was a schoolteacher who married a miner known as "Sorry Tom" — a nickname that hints at the irony of what's ahead. Their son was the first baby born on Red Hoss Mountain, turning his arrival into a true community celebration. The miners fired their guns and shouted with joy until they were hoarse. That ten-pound baby belonged to everyone from the very beginning, which is why his death will deeply affect the whole camp.

  3. Three years, and sech a pretty child!--his mother's counterpart! / Three years, an' sech a holt ez he had got on every heart!

    Editor's note

    The repeated mention of "Three years" emphasizes just how brief his life was. Field captures the boy with quick, vivid strokes — red-gold hair, always laughing, and impossible to keep still. He would roam between the store and the brook, playing under the same pines and hemlocks that will later sing at his funeral. The magpies, referred to as "strange sperrits," hint at death without making it explicit.

  4. Three years, an' then the fever come,--it wuzn't right, you know, / With all us old ones in the camp, for that little child to go;

    Editor's note

    Here, the narrator shifts from nostalgia to a straightforward expression of injustice: it’s the elderly who should pass away, not the young. The phrase "that can't be reconciled" captures the poem's emotional heart — a grief that defies neat resolutions. Sorry Tom stands by the window, gazing at the place where his son once played, unable to face the body. The brook's song comes back at the end of the stanza, echoing the loneliness that marked the poem's beginning.

  5. A preacher come from Roarin' Crick to comfort 'em an' pray, / 'Nd all the camp wuz present at the obsequies next day;

    Editor's note

    The funeral stanza highlights the perfect blend of Field's humor and tenderness. You have rough miners singing a hymn next to a schoolteacher who traveled twenty miles just to attend. The preacher delivers a sermon on sin and hellfire that's so impactful that the camp goes a week without swearing—a genuinely funny detail that also reveals how profoundly the death affected these tough men. The comedy doesn't diminish the grief; instead, it makes the sorrow feel even more genuine.

  6. Last thing uv all, four strappin' men took up the little load / An' bore it tenderly along the windin', rocky road,

    Editor's note

    "The little load" is one of Field's most poignant phrases — the burden of a child's coffin carried by four large miners. The grave is positioned within view of Marthy's window on purpose, allowing her to always see where her son rests. The stanza ends with a string of heart-wrenching comparisons: is the earth as warm as her breast? Are the pine-songs as gentle as her lullabies? The answer is clearly no, and Field understands that we know it.

  7. The camp is gone; but Red Hoss Mountain rears its kindly head, / An' looks down, sort uv tenderly, upon its cherished dead;

    Editor's note

    The final stanza leaps ahead in time. The mining camp is gone, but the mountain still stands, along with the boy within it. Field revisits the opening images nearly verbatim — the brook lingering, the wildflowers swaying, the magpies flitting about — forming a complete circle. The child has become a permanent part of the landscape, and nature patiently awaits his return to play. This offers a comfort that doesn't sugarcoat death; it simply acknowledges that the world remembers.

§04Tone & mood

How this poem feels

The tone is tender and communal—this is grief shared by an entire camp, not just a grieving parent. Field uses a warm frontier dialect that prevents the poem from becoming overly sentimental, and he weaves genuine humor into the mourning (like the miners celebrating a birth and the week without swearing after the sermon). Beneath the folksy voice lies a steady, quiet sorrow and a raw anger at the injustice of a child dying young. By the end, the tone shifts toward a sense of peaceful acceptance, although Field is careful never to imply that the loss was acceptable.

§05Symbols & metaphors

Symbols & metaphors

The mountain brook
The brook serves as the heartbeat of the poem. It shows up in the first line, the middle, and the last line, always "singing lonesomelike" and "loitering," as if it's waiting for the child. It symbolizes the passage of time that continues on, even when we wish it would pause, and represents the natural world's way of mourning and remembering.
The magpies
Magpies have long been linked to omens and the spirit world in various folk traditions, and Field embraces this idea. He describes them as "winged shadows" and "strange spirits" — existing between the realm of the living and whatever comes after, making them apt symbols for a soul that has just passed on.
The pines and hemlocks
These trees serve as both protectors and mourners. They provided shade for the boy during play, and their branches sway "like arms" at his passing. Evergreen trees are often seen as symbols of immortality, so their enduring presence after the camp has disappeared implies that the child's memory will remain just as lasting.
The little load
Field's phrase for the child's coffin carried by four miners highlights a poignant contrast between the men's size and the lightness of what they carry, making the loss feel both physical and immediate. This serves as the poem's most vivid image of grief.
The empty cradle
The cradle beside Marthy represents all the moments that will never occur — the nights spent rocking, the lullabies sung, the childhood years that will not unfold. Field contrasts it with the grave, describing it as a "green patch, long an' wide," and questions if the earth can take the place of a mother's embrace. It can't, and the image is aware of this truth.
Red Hoss Mountain
The mountain endures long after the camp and everyone in it has faded away. It stands like a guardian, "rearing its kindly head" and gazing down "tenderly" at the buried child. The mountain embodies permanence, the sole presence that will remain to remember when all the human mourners have departed.

§06Historical context

Historical context

Eugene Field wrote this poem in the 1880s while he was a newspaper columnist in Chicago and Denver. He earned the title "Poet of Childhood," and poems reflecting on the deaths of young children were especially popular during the Victorian era, a time when child mortality was so prevalent that nearly every family had faced it. "Marthy's Younkit" takes place in a Colorado gold and silver mining camp, reminiscent of the rough frontier communities Field encountered during his time in Denver. The Red Hoss Mountain poems were a beloved series in his newspaper work, written in a comic frontier dialect that resonated with readers. This particular poem leans toward the serious side of that series. The dialect spelling isn't meant to mock; rather, it was Field's way of honoring the speech of working-class people and anchoring a heartfelt subject in a specific, relatable setting. The hymn the miners sing, "Jesus, Lover of My Soul," was one of the most recognizable Methodist hymns of the 19th century, instantly familiar to Field's audience.

§07FAQ

Questions readers ask

It’s a dialect spelling of “young one” or “youngster”—essentially a term for a small child. Field incorporates the frontier dialect of Colorado mining camps throughout the poem, where words are shortened and respelled to reflect how people actually spoke.

Read next

Poems in the same key

Similar poems

We Are Seven — William WordsworthLITTLE BOY BLUE — Eugene FieldAnnabel Lee — Edgar Allan PoeHome Burial — Robert Frost

More by Eugene Field

Browse all Eugene Field poems →

Themes in this poem

Poems about deathPoems about memoryPoems about naturePoems about sorrow