THE BROWNIES FISHING.

For volunteers would bravely holdA pumpkin till in halves it rolled;And then a turnip, quince, or pear,Would next be shot to pieces there;Till not alone the apples flewIn halves before their arrows true,

For volunteers would bravely hold

A pumpkin till in halves it rolled;

And then a turnip, quince, or pear,

Would next be shot to pieces there;

Till not alone the apples flew

In halves before their arrows true,

But even plums and cherries too.For Brownies, as we often find,Can soon excel the human kind,And carry off with effort slightThe highest praise and honors bright.

But even plums and cherries too.

For Brownies, as we often find,

Can soon excel the human kind,

And carry off with effort slight

The highest praise and honors bright.

WHENglassy lakes and streams aboutGave up their bass and speckled trout,The Brownies stood by water clearAs shades of evening gathered near.

HENglassy lakes and streams about

Gave up their bass and speckled trout,

The Brownies stood by water clear

As shades of evening gathered near.

Said one: "Now country lads beginTo trim the rod and bend the pinTo catch the frogs and minnows spryThat in the brooks and ditches lie.While city chaps with reels come down,And line enough to gird the town,And flies of stranger shape and hueThan ever Mother Nature knew—With horns like crickets, tails like mice,And plumes like birds of Paradise.Thus well prepared for sunny skyOr cloudy weather, wet or dry,They take the fish from stream and poolBy native art and printed rule."Another said: "With peeping eyesI've watched an angler fighting flies,And thought, when thus he stood to bearThe torture from those pests of air,There must indeed be pleasure fineBehind the baited hook and line.Now, off like arrows from the bowIn search of tackle some must go;While others stay to dig suppliesOf bait that anglers highly prize,—Such kind as best will bring the poutThe dace, the chub, and 'shiner' out;While locusts gathered from the grassWill answer well for thorny bass."Then some with speed for tackle start,And some to sandy banks depart,And some uplift a stone or railIn search of cricket, grub, or snail;While more in dewy meadows drawThe drowsy locust from the straw.Nor is it long before the bandStands ready for the sport in hand.It seemed the time of all the yearWhen fish the starving stage were near:They rose to straws and bits of bark,To bubbles bright and shadows dark,And jumped at hooks, concealed or bare,While yet they dangled in the air.Some Brownies many trials metAlmost before their lines were wet;For stones below would hold them fast,And limbs above would stop the cast,And hands be forced to take a rest,At times when fish were biting best.Some stumbled in above their boots,And others spoiled their finest suits;But fun went on; for many thereHad hooks that seemed a charm to bear,And fish of various scale and finOn every side were gathered in.The catfish left his bed below,With croaks and protests from the go;And nerve as well as time it tookFrom such a maw to win the hook.With horns that pointed every way,And life that seemed to stick and stay,Like antlered stag that stands at bay,He lay and eyed the Brownie band,And threatened every reaching hand.The gamy bass, when playing fine,Oft tried the strength of hook and line,And strove an hour before his mindTo changing quarters was resigned.Some eels proved more than even matchFor those who made the wondrous catch,And, like a fortune won with ease,They slipped through fingers by degrees,And bade good-bye to margin sands,In spite of half a dozen hands.The hungry, wakeful birds of airSoon gathered 'round to claim their share,And did for days themselves regaleOn fish of every stripe and scale.Thus sport went on with laugh and shout,As hooks went in and fish came out,While more escaped with wounded gill,And yards of line they're trailing still;But day at length began to break,And forced the Brownies from the lake.

Said one: "Now country lads begin

To trim the rod and bend the pin

To catch the frogs and minnows spry

That in the brooks and ditches lie.

While city chaps with reels come down,

And line enough to gird the town,

And flies of stranger shape and hue

Than ever Mother Nature knew—

With horns like crickets, tails like mice,

And plumes like birds of Paradise.

Thus well prepared for sunny sky

Or cloudy weather, wet or dry,

They take the fish from stream and pool

By native art and printed rule."

Another said: "With peeping eyes

I've watched an angler fighting flies,

And thought, when thus he stood to bear

The torture from those pests of air,

There must indeed be pleasure fine

Behind the baited hook and line.

Now, off like arrows from the bow

In search of tackle some must go;

While others stay to dig supplies

Of bait that anglers highly prize,—

Such kind as best will bring the pout

The dace, the chub, and 'shiner' out;

While locusts gathered from the grass

Will answer well for thorny bass."

Then some with speed for tackle start,

And some to sandy banks depart,

And some uplift a stone or rail

In search of cricket, grub, or snail;

While more in dewy meadows draw

The drowsy locust from the straw.

Nor is it long before the band

Stands ready for the sport in hand.

It seemed the time of all the year

When fish the starving stage were near:

They rose to straws and bits of bark,

To bubbles bright and shadows dark,

And jumped at hooks, concealed or bare,

While yet they dangled in the air.

Some Brownies many trials met

Almost before their lines were wet;

For stones below would hold them fast,

And limbs above would stop the cast,

And hands be forced to take a rest,

At times when fish were biting best.

Some stumbled in above their boots,

And others spoiled their finest suits;

But fun went on; for many there

Had hooks that seemed a charm to bear,

And fish of various scale and fin

On every side were gathered in.

The catfish left his bed below,

With croaks and protests from the go;

And nerve as well as time it took

From such a maw to win the hook.

With horns that pointed every way,

And life that seemed to stick and stay,

Like antlered stag that stands at bay,

He lay and eyed the Brownie band,

And threatened every reaching hand.

The gamy bass, when playing fine,

Oft tried the strength of hook and line,

And strove an hour before his mind

To changing quarters was resigned.

Some eels proved more than even match

For those who made the wondrous catch,

And, like a fortune won with ease,

They slipped through fingers by degrees,

And bade good-bye to margin sands,

In spite of half a dozen hands.

The hungry, wakeful birds of air

Soon gathered 'round to claim their share,

And did for days themselves regale

On fish of every stripe and scale.

Thus sport went on with laugh and shout,

As hooks went in and fish came out,

While more escaped with wounded gill,

And yards of line they're trailing still;

But day at length began to break,

And forced the Brownies from the lake.

THEBrownies' Band, while passing throughThe country with some scheme in view,Paused in their race, and well they might,When broad Niagara came in sight.Said one: "Give ear to what I say,I've been a traveler in my day;I've waded through Canadian mudTo Montmorenci's tumbling flood.But ah! Niagara is the fallThat truly overtops them all—The children prattle of its tide,And age repeats its name with prideThe school-boy draws it on his slate,The preacher owns its moral weight;The tourist views it dumb with awe,The Indian paints it for his squaw,And tells how many a warrior trueWent o'er it in his bark canoe,And never after friend or foeGot sight of man or boat below."Another said: "The Brownie BandUpon the trembling brink may stand,Where kings and queens have sighed to be,But dare not risk themselves at sea."Some played along the shelving ledgeThat beetled o'er the river's edge;Some gazed in meditation deepUpon the water's fearful leap;Some went below, to crawl aboutBehind the fall, that shooting outLeft space where they might safely standAnd view the scene so wild and grand.Some climbed the trees of cedar kind,That o'er the rushing stream inclined,To find a seat, to swing and friskAnd bend the boughs at fearful risk;Until the rogues could dip and laveTheir toes at times beneath the wave.Still more and more would venture outIn spite of every warning shout.At last the weight that dangled thereWas greater than the tree could bear.And then the snapping roots let goTheir hold upon the rocks below,And leaping out away it rodeUpon the stream with all its load!Then shouts that rose above the roarWent up from tree-top, and from shore,When it was thought that half the bandWas now forever leaving land.It chanced, for reasons of their own,Some men around that tree had thrownA lengthy rope that still was strongAnd stretching fifty feet along.Before it disappeared from sight,The Brownies seized it in their might,And then a strain for half an hourWent on between the mystic powerOf Brownie hands united all,And water rushing o'er the fall.But true to friends theBrownies strained,And inch by inch the tree was gained.Across the awful bend it passedWith those in danger clinging fast,And soon it reached the rocky shoreWith all the Brownies safe once more.And then, as morning showed her face,The Brownies hastened from the place.

HEBrownies' Band, while passing through

The country with some scheme in view,

Paused in their race, and well they might,

When broad Niagara came in sight.

Said one: "Give ear to what I say,

I've been a traveler in my day;

I've waded through Canadian mud

To Montmorenci's tumbling flood.

But ah! Niagara is the fall

That truly overtops them all—

The children prattle of its tide,

And age repeats its name with pride

The school-boy draws it on his slate,

The preacher owns its moral weight;

The tourist views it dumb with awe,

The Indian paints it for his squaw,

And tells how many a warrior true

Went o'er it in his bark canoe,

And never after friend or foe

Got sight of man or boat below."

Another said: "The Brownie Band

Upon the trembling brink may stand,

Where kings and queens have sighed to be,

But dare not risk themselves at sea."

Some played along the shelving ledgeThat beetled o'er the river's edge;Some gazed in meditation deepUpon the water's fearful leap;Some went below, to crawl aboutBehind the fall, that shooting outLeft space where they might safely standAnd view the scene so wild and grand.Some climbed the trees of cedar kind,That o'er the rushing stream inclined,To find a seat, to swing and friskAnd bend the boughs at fearful risk;Until the rogues could dip and laveTheir toes at times beneath the wave.Still more and more would venture outIn spite of every warning shout.At last the weight that dangled thereWas greater than the tree could bear.And then the snapping roots let goTheir hold upon the rocks below,And leaping out away it rodeUpon the stream with all its load!Then shouts that rose above the roarWent up from tree-top, and from shore,When it was thought that half the bandWas now forever leaving land.It chanced, for reasons of their own,Some men around that tree had thrownA lengthy rope that still was strongAnd stretching fifty feet along.Before it disappeared from sight,The Brownies seized it in their might,And then a strain for half an hourWent on between the mystic powerOf Brownie hands united all,And water rushing o'er the fall.But true to friends theBrownies strained,And inch by inch the tree was gained.Across the awful bend it passedWith those in danger clinging fast,And soon it reached the rocky shoreWith all the Brownies safe once more.And then, as morning showed her face,The Brownies hastened from the place.

Some played along the shelving ledge

That beetled o'er the river's edge;

Some gazed in meditation deep

Upon the water's fearful leap;

Some went below, to crawl about

Behind the fall, that shooting out

Left space where they might safely stand

And view the scene so wild and grand.

Some climbed the trees of cedar kind,

That o'er the rushing stream inclined,

To find a seat, to swing and frisk

And bend the boughs at fearful risk;

Until the rogues could dip and lave

Their toes at times beneath the wave.

Still more and more would venture out

In spite of every warning shout.

At last the weight that dangled there

Was greater than the tree could bear.

And then the snapping roots let go

Their hold upon the rocks below,

And leaping out away it rode

Upon the stream with all its load!

Then shouts that rose above the roar

Went up from tree-top, and from shore,

When it was thought that half the band

Was now forever leaving land.

It chanced, for reasons of their own,

Some men around that tree had thrown

A lengthy rope that still was strong

And stretching fifty feet along.

Before it disappeared from sight,

The Brownies seized it in their might,

And then a strain for half an hour

Went on between the mystic power

Of Brownie hands united all,

And water rushing o'er the fall.

But true to friends the

Brownies strained,

And inch by inch the tree was gained.

Across the awful bend it passed

With those in danger clinging fast,

And soon it reached the rocky shore

With all the Brownies safe once more.

And then, as morning showed her face,

The Brownies hastened from the place.

ONEnight, as spring began to showIn buds above and blades below,The Brownies reached a garden squareThat seemed in need of proper care.Said one, "Neglected ground like thisMust argue some one most remiss,Or beds and paths would here be foundInstead of rubbish scattered round.Old staves, and boots, and woolen strings,With bottles, bones, and wire-springs,Are quite unsightly things to seeWhere tender plants should sprouting be.This work must be progressing soon,If blossoms are to smile in June."A second said, "Let all give heed:On me depend to find the seed.For, thanks to my foreseeing mind,To merchants' goods we're not confined.Last autumn, when the leaves grew sereAnd birds sought regions less severe,One night through gardens fair I sped,And gathered seeds from every bed;Then placed them in a hollow tree,Where still they rest. So trust to meTo bring supplies, while you prepareThe mellow garden-soil with care."Another cried, "While some one goesTo find the shovels, rakes, and hoes,That in the sheds are stowed away,We'll use this plow as best we may.Our arms, united at the chain,Will not be exercised in vain,But, as if colts were in the trace,We'll make it dance around the place.I know how deep the share should go,And how the sods to overthrow.So not a patch of ground the sizeOf this old cap, when flat it lies,But shall attentive care receive,And be improved before we leave."Then some to guide the plow began,Others the walks and beds to plan.And soon they gazed with anxious eyesFor those who ran for seed-supplies.But, when they came, one had his say,And thus explained the long delay:"A woodchuck in the tree had madeHis bed just where the seeds were laid.We wasted half an hour at leastIn striving to dislodge the beast;Until at length he turned around,Then, quick as thought, without a sound,And ere he had his bearings got,The rogue was half across the lot."Then seed was sown in various styles,In circles, squares, and single files;While here and there, in central parts,They fashioned diamonds, stars, and hearts,Some using rake, some plying hoe,Some making holes where seed should go;While some laid garden tools asideAnd to the soil their hands applied.To stakes and racks more were assigned,That climbing-vines support might find.Cried one, "Here, side by side, will standThe fairest flowers in the land.The thrifty bees for miles aroundEre long will seek this plot of ground,And be surprised to find each mornNew blossoms do each bed adorn.And in their own peculiar screedWill bless the hands that sowed the seed."And while that night they labored there,The cunning rogues had taken careWith sticks and strings to nicely frameIn line the letters of their name.That when came round the proper timeFor plants to leaf and vines to climb,The Brownies would remembered be,If people there had eyes to see.But morning broke (as break it willThough one's awake or sleeping still),And then the seeds on every sideThe hurried Brownies scattered wide.BROWNIEAlong the road and through the laneThey pattered on the ground like rain,Where Brownies, as away they flew,Both right and left full handfuls threw,And children often halted thereTo pick the blossoms, sweet and fair,That sprung like daisies from the meadWhere fleeing Brownies flung the seed.

NEnight, as spring began to show

In buds above and blades below,

The Brownies reached a garden square

That seemed in need of proper care.

Said one, "Neglected ground like this

Must argue some one most remiss,

Or beds and paths would here be found

Instead of rubbish scattered round.

Old staves, and boots, and woolen strings,

With bottles, bones, and wire-springs,

Are quite unsightly things to see

Where tender plants should sprouting be.

This work must be progressing soon,

If blossoms are to smile in June."

A second said, "Let all give heed:

On me depend to find the seed.

For, thanks to my foreseeing mind,

To merchants' goods we're not confined.

Last autumn, when the leaves grew sere

And birds sought regions less severe,

One night through gardens fair I sped,

And gathered seeds from every bed;

Then placed them in a hollow tree,

Where still they rest. So trust to me

To bring supplies, while you prepare

The mellow garden-soil with care."

Another cried, "While some one goes

To find the shovels, rakes, and hoes,

That in the sheds are stowed away,

We'll use this plow as best we may.

Our arms, united at the chain,

Will not be exercised in vain,

But, as if colts were in the trace,

We'll make it dance around the place.

I know how deep the share should go,

And how the sods to overthrow.

So not a patch of ground the size

Of this old cap, when flat it lies,

But shall attentive care receive,

And be improved before we leave."

Then some to guide the plow began,

Others the walks and beds to plan.

And soon they gazed with anxious eyes

For those who ran for seed-supplies.

But, when they came, one had his say,

And thus explained the long delay:

"A woodchuck in the tree had made

His bed just where the seeds were laid.

We wasted half an hour at least

In striving to dislodge the beast;

Until at length he turned around,

Then, quick as thought, without a sound,

And ere he had his bearings got,

The rogue was half across the lot."

Then seed was sown in various styles,

In circles, squares, and single files;

While here and there, in central parts,

They fashioned diamonds, stars, and hearts,

Some using rake, some plying hoe,

Some making holes where seed should go;

While some laid garden tools aside

And to the soil their hands applied.

To stakes and racks more were assigned,

That climbing-vines support might find.

Cried one, "Here, side by side, will stand

The fairest flowers in the land.

The thrifty bees for miles around

Ere long will seek this plot of ground,

And be surprised to find each morn

New blossoms do each bed adorn.

And in their own peculiar screed

Will bless the hands that sowed the seed."

And while that night they labored there,

The cunning rogues had taken care

With sticks and strings to nicely frame

In line the letters of their name.

That when came round the proper time

For plants to leaf and vines to climb,

The Brownies would remembered be,

If people there had eyes to see.

But morning broke (as break it will

Though one's awake or sleeping still),

And then the seeds on every side

The hurried Brownies scattered wide.

Along the road and through the lane

They pattered on the ground like rain,

Where Brownies, as away they flew,

Both right and left full handfuls threw,

And children often halted there

To pick the blossoms, sweet and fair,

That sprung like daisies from the mead

Where fleeing Brownies flung the seed.

ONEnight the Brownies reached a moundThat rose above the country round.Said one, as seated on the placeHe glanced about with thoughtful face:"If almanacs have matters rightThe Fourth begins at twelve to-night,—A fitting time for us to fillYon cannon there and shake the hill,And make the people all aboutThink war again has broken out.I know where powder may be foundBoth by the keg and by the pound;Men use it in a tunnel nearFor blasting purposes, I hear.To get supplies all hands will go,And when we come we'll not be slowTo teach the folks the proper wayTo honor Independence Day."It was not long till powder came.Then from the muzzle broke the flame,And echo answered to the soundThat startled folk for miles around.'Twas lucky for the Brownies' BandThey were not of the mortal brand,Or half the crew would have been hurledIn pieces to another world.For when at last the cannon roared,So huge the charge had Brownies poured,The metal of the gun rebelledAnd threw all ways the load it held.The pieces clipped the daisy-headsAnd tore the tree-tops into shreds.But Brownies are not slow to spyA danger, as are you and I.For they through strange and mystic artObserved it as it flew apart,And ducked and dodged and flattened out,To shun the fragments flung about.Some rogues were lifted from their feetAnd, turning somersaults complete,Like leaves went twirling through the airBut only to receive a scare;And ere the smoke away had clearedIn forest shade they disappeared.

NEnight the Brownies reached a mound

That rose above the country round.

Said one, as seated on the place

He glanced about with thoughtful face:

"If almanacs have matters right

The Fourth begins at twelve to-night,—

A fitting time for us to fill

Yon cannon there and shake the hill,

And make the people all about

Think war again has broken out.

I know where powder may be found

Both by the keg and by the pound;

Men use it in a tunnel near

For blasting purposes, I hear.

To get supplies all hands will go,

And when we come we'll not be slow

To teach the folks the proper way

To honor Independence Day."

It was not long till powder came.Then from the muzzle broke the flame,And echo answered to the soundThat startled folk for miles around.'Twas lucky for the Brownies' BandThey were not of the mortal brand,Or half the crew would have been hurledIn pieces to another world.For when at last the cannon roared,So huge the charge had Brownies poured,The metal of the gun rebelledAnd threw all ways the load it held.The pieces clipped the daisy-headsAnd tore the tree-tops into shreds.

It was not long till powder came.

Then from the muzzle broke the flame,

And echo answered to the sound

That startled folk for miles around.

'Twas lucky for the Brownies' Band

They were not of the mortal brand,

Or half the crew would have been hurled

In pieces to another world.

For when at last the cannon roared,

So huge the charge had Brownies poured,

The metal of the gun rebelled

And threw all ways the load it held.

The pieces clipped the daisy-heads

And tore the tree-tops into shreds.

But Brownies are not slow to spyA danger, as are you and I.For they through strange and mystic artObserved it as it flew apart,And ducked and dodged and flattened out,To shun the fragments flung about.Some rogues were lifted from their feetAnd, turning somersaults complete,Like leaves went twirling through the airBut only to receive a scare;And ere the smoke away had clearedIn forest shade they disappeared.

But Brownies are not slow to spy

A danger, as are you and I.

For they through strange and mystic art

Observed it as it flew apart,

And ducked and dodged and flattened out,

To shun the fragments flung about.

Some rogues were lifted from their feet

And, turning somersaults complete,

Like leaves went twirling through the air

But only to receive a scare;

And ere the smoke away had cleared

In forest shade they disappeared.

WHILEBrownies passed along the street,Commenting on the summer's heatThat wrapped the city day and night,A swimming-bath appeared in sight.Said one: "Of all the sights we've found,Since we commenced to ramble round,This seems to better suit the bandThan anything, however grand.We'll rest awhile and find our wayInside the place without delay,And those who understand the art,Can knowledge to the rest impart;For every one should able be,To swim, in river, lake, or sea.We never know how soon we may,See some one sinking in dismay,—And then, to have the power to saveA comrade from a watery grave,Will be a blessing sure to giveUs joy the longest day we live."The doors soon opened through the powerThat lay in Brownie hands that hour.When once within the fun began,As here and there they quickly ran;Some up the stairs made haste to go,Some into dressing-rooms below,In bathing-trunks to reappearAnd plunge into the water clear;Some from the spring-board leaping fairWould turn a somersault in air;More to the bottom like a stone,Would sink as soon as left alone,While others after trial briefCould float as buoyant as a leaf.Some all their time to others gaveAssisting them to ride the wave,Explaining how to catch the trick,Both how to strike and how to kick;And still keep nose above the tide,That lungs with air might be supplied.Thus diving in and climbing out,Or splashing round with laugh and shout,The happy band in water playedAs long as Night her scepter swayed.They heard the clocks in chapel towersProclaim the swiftly passing hours.But when the sun looked from his bedTo tint the eastern sky with red,In haste the frightened Brownies threwTheir clothes about them and withdrew.

HILEBrownies passed along the street,

Commenting on the summer's heat

That wrapped the city day and night,

A swimming-bath appeared in sight.

Said one: "Of all the sights we've found,

Since we commenced to ramble round,

This seems to better suit the band

Than anything, however grand.

We'll rest awhile and find our way

Inside the place without delay,

And those who understand the art,

Can knowledge to the rest impart;

For every one should able be,

To swim, in river, lake, or sea.

We never know how soon we may,

See some one sinking in dismay,—

And then, to have the power to save

A comrade from a watery grave,

Will be a blessing sure to give

Us joy the longest day we live."

The doors soon opened through the powerThat lay in Brownie hands that hour.When once within the fun began,As here and there they quickly ran;Some up the stairs made haste to go,Some into dressing-rooms below,In bathing-trunks to reappearAnd plunge into the water clear;Some from the spring-board leaping fairWould turn a somersault in air;More to the bottom like a stone,Would sink as soon as left alone,While others after trial briefCould float as buoyant as a leaf.

The doors soon opened through the power

That lay in Brownie hands that hour.

When once within the fun began,

As here and there they quickly ran;

Some up the stairs made haste to go,

Some into dressing-rooms below,

In bathing-trunks to reappear

And plunge into the water clear;

Some from the spring-board leaping fair

Would turn a somersault in air;

More to the bottom like a stone,

Would sink as soon as left alone,

While others after trial brief

Could float as buoyant as a leaf.

Some all their time to others gaveAssisting them to ride the wave,Explaining how to catch the trick,Both how to strike and how to kick;And still keep nose above the tide,That lungs with air might be supplied.

Some all their time to others gave

Assisting them to ride the wave,

Explaining how to catch the trick,

Both how to strike and how to kick;

And still keep nose above the tide,

That lungs with air might be supplied.

Thus diving in and climbing out,Or splashing round with laugh and shout,The happy band in water playedAs long as Night her scepter swayed.They heard the clocks in chapel towersProclaim the swiftly passing hours.But when the sun looked from his bedTo tint the eastern sky with red,In haste the frightened Brownies threwTheir clothes about them and withdrew.

Thus diving in and climbing out,

Or splashing round with laugh and shout,

The happy band in water played

As long as Night her scepter swayed.

They heard the clocks in chapel towers

Proclaim the swiftly passing hours.

But when the sun looked from his bed

To tint the eastern sky with red,

In haste the frightened Brownies threw

Their clothes about them and withdrew.

AS Brownies chanced at eve to strayAround a wide but shallow bay,Not far from shore, to their surprise,They saw a whale of monstrous size,That, favored by the wind and tide,Had ventured in from ocean wide,But waves receding by-and-by,Soon left him with a scant supply.At times, with flaps and lunges strongHe worked his way some yards along,Till on a bar or sandy margeHe grounded like a leaden barge."A chance like this for all the band,"Cried one, "but seldom comes to hand.I know the bottom of this bayLike those who made the coast survey.'Tis level as a threshing-floorAnd shallow now from shore to shore;That creature's back will be as dryAs hay beneath a tropic sky,Till morning tide comes full and freeAnd gives him aid to reach the sea.""I catch the hint!" another cried;"Let all make haste to gain his sideThen clamber up as best we may,And ride him round till break of day."At once, the band in great delightWent splashing through the water bright,And soon to where he rolled aboutThey lightly swam, or waded out.Now climbing up, the Brownies triedTo take position for the ride.Some lying down a hold maintained;More, losing place as soon as gained,Were forced a dozen times to scaleThe broad side of the stranded whale.Now half-afloat and half-agroundThe burdened monster circled round,Still groping clumsily aboutAs if to find the channel out,And Brownies clustered close, in fearThat darker moments might be near.And soon the dullest in the bandWas sharp enough to understandThe creature was no longer beached,But deeper water now had reached.For plunging left, or plunging right,Or plowing downward in his might,The fact was plain, as plain could be—The whale was working out to sea!A creeping fear will seize the mindAs one is leaving shores behind,And knows the bark whereon he sailsIs hardly fit to weather gales.Soon Fancy, with a graphic sweep,Portrays the nightmares of the deep;While they can see, with living eye,The terrors of the air sweep by.For who would not a fierce bird dread,If it came flying at his head?And these were hungry, squawking things,With open beaks and flapping wings.They made the Brownies dodge and dip,Into the sea they feared to slip.The birds they viewed with chattering teeth,Yet dreaded more the foes beneath.The lobster, with his ready claw;The fish with sword, the fish with saw;The hermit-crab, in coral hall,Averse to every social call;The father-lasher, and the shrimp,The cuttle-fish, or ocean imp,All these increase the landsman's fright,As shores are fading out of sight.Such fear soon gained complete commandOf every Brownie in the band.They looked behind, where fair and greenThe grassy banks and woods were seen.They looked ahead, where white and coldThe foaming waves of ocean rolled,And then, with woful faces drewComparisons between the two.Some blamed themselves for action rashAgainst all reason still to dashIn danger's way, and never thinkUntil they stood on ruin's brink.While others threw the blame on thoseWho did the risky trip propose.But meantime deep and deeper stillThe whale was settling down untilHis back looked like an island smallThat scarce gave standing-room to all.But, when their chance seemed slight indeedTo sport again o'er dewy mead,The spouting whale, with movement strong,Ran crashing through some timbers longThat lumbermen had strongly tiedIn cribs and rafts, an acre wide.'Twas then, in such a trying hour,The Brownies showed their nerve and power.The diving whale gave little timeFor them to choose a stick to climb,—But grips were strong; no hold was lost,However high the logs were tossed;By happy chance the boom remainedThat to the nearest shore was chained,And o'er that bridge the Brownies madeA safe retreat to forest shade.

S Brownies chanced at eve to stray

Around a wide but shallow bay,

Not far from shore, to their surprise,

They saw a whale of monstrous size,

That, favored by the wind and tide,

Had ventured in from ocean wide,

But waves receding by-and-by,

Soon left him with a scant supply.

At times, with flaps and lunges strong

He worked his way some yards along,

Till on a bar or sandy marge

He grounded like a leaden barge.

"A chance like this for all the band,"

Cried one, "but seldom comes to hand.

I know the bottom of this bay

Like those who made the coast survey.

'Tis level as a threshing-floor

And shallow now from shore to shore;

That creature's back will be as dry

As hay beneath a tropic sky,

Till morning tide comes full and free

And gives him aid to reach the sea."

"I catch the hint!" another cried;

"Let all make haste to gain his side

Then clamber up as best we may,

And ride him round till break of day."

At once, the band in great delight

Went splashing through the water bright,

And soon to where he rolled about

They lightly swam, or waded out.

Now climbing up, the Brownies tried

To take position for the ride.

Some lying down a hold maintained;

More, losing place as soon as gained,

Were forced a dozen times to scale

The broad side of the stranded whale.

Now half-afloat and half-aground

The burdened monster circled round,

Still groping clumsily aboutAs if to find the channel out,And Brownies clustered close, in fearThat darker moments might be near.And soon the dullest in the bandWas sharp enough to understandThe creature was no longer beached,But deeper water now had reached.For plunging left, or plunging right,Or plowing downward in his might,The fact was plain, as plain could be—The whale was working out to sea!

Still groping clumsily about

As if to find the channel out,

And Brownies clustered close, in fear

That darker moments might be near.

And soon the dullest in the band

Was sharp enough to understand

The creature was no longer beached,

But deeper water now had reached.

For plunging left, or plunging right,

Or plowing downward in his might,

The fact was plain, as plain could be—

The whale was working out to sea!

A creeping fear will seize the mindAs one is leaving shores behind,And knows the bark whereon he sailsIs hardly fit to weather gales.Soon Fancy, with a graphic sweep,Portrays the nightmares of the deep;While they can see, with living eye,The terrors of the air sweep by.

A creeping fear will seize the mind

As one is leaving shores behind,

And knows the bark whereon he sails

Is hardly fit to weather gales.

Soon Fancy, with a graphic sweep,

Portrays the nightmares of the deep;

While they can see, with living eye,

The terrors of the air sweep by.

For who would not a fierce bird dread,If it came flying at his head?And these were hungry, squawking things,With open beaks and flapping wings.They made the Brownies dodge and dip,Into the sea they feared to slip.The birds they viewed with chattering teeth,Yet dreaded more the foes beneath.The lobster, with his ready claw;The fish with sword, the fish with saw;The hermit-crab, in coral hall,Averse to every social call;The father-lasher, and the shrimp,The cuttle-fish, or ocean imp,All these increase the landsman's fright,As shores are fading out of sight.Such fear soon gained complete commandOf every Brownie in the band.They looked behind, where fair and greenThe grassy banks and woods were seen.They looked ahead, where white and coldThe foaming waves of ocean rolled,And then, with woful faces drewComparisons between the two.

For who would not a fierce bird dread,

If it came flying at his head?

And these were hungry, squawking things,

With open beaks and flapping wings.

They made the Brownies dodge and dip,

Into the sea they feared to slip.

The birds they viewed with chattering teeth,

Yet dreaded more the foes beneath.

The lobster, with his ready claw;

The fish with sword, the fish with saw;

The hermit-crab, in coral hall,

Averse to every social call;

The father-lasher, and the shrimp,

The cuttle-fish, or ocean imp,

All these increase the landsman's fright,

As shores are fading out of sight.

Such fear soon gained complete command

Of every Brownie in the band.

They looked behind, where fair and green

The grassy banks and woods were seen.

They looked ahead, where white and cold

The foaming waves of ocean rolled,

And then, with woful faces drew

Comparisons between the two.

Some blamed themselves for action rashAgainst all reason still to dashIn danger's way, and never thinkUntil they stood on ruin's brink.While others threw the blame on thoseWho did the risky trip propose.But meantime deep and deeper stillThe whale was settling down untilHis back looked like an island smallThat scarce gave standing-room to all.But, when their chance seemed slight indeedTo sport again o'er dewy mead,The spouting whale, with movement strong,Ran crashing through some timbers longThat lumbermen had strongly tiedIn cribs and rafts, an acre wide.

Some blamed themselves for action rash

Against all reason still to dash

In danger's way, and never think

Until they stood on ruin's brink.

While others threw the blame on those

Who did the risky trip propose.

But meantime deep and deeper still

The whale was settling down until

His back looked like an island small

That scarce gave standing-room to all.

But, when their chance seemed slight indeed

To sport again o'er dewy mead,

The spouting whale, with movement strong,

Ran crashing through some timbers long

That lumbermen had strongly tied

In cribs and rafts, an acre wide.

'Twas then, in such a trying hour,The Brownies showed their nerve and power.The diving whale gave little timeFor them to choose a stick to climb,—But grips were strong; no hold was lost,However high the logs were tossed;By happy chance the boom remainedThat to the nearest shore was chained,And o'er that bridge the Brownies madeA safe retreat to forest shade.

'Twas then, in such a trying hour,

The Brownies showed their nerve and power.

The diving whale gave little time

For them to choose a stick to climb,—

But grips were strong; no hold was lost,

However high the logs were tossed;

By happy chance the boom remained

That to the nearest shore was chained,

And o'er that bridge the Brownies made

A safe retreat to forest shade.

The sun had hardly taken flightUnto the deepest caves of night;Or fowls secured a place of restWhere Reynard's paw could not molest,When Brownies gathered to pursueTheir plans regarding pleasures new.Said one: "In spite of hand or string,Now hats fly round like crows in spring,Exposing heads to gusts of air,

The sun had hardly taken flight

Unto the deepest caves of night;

Or fowls secured a place of rest

Where Reynard's paw could not molest,

When Brownies gathered to pursue

Their plans regarding pleasures new.

Said one: "In spite of hand or string,

Now hats fly round like crows in spring,

Exposing heads to gusts of air,

That ill the slightest draught can bear;While, high above the tallest tower,At morning, noon, and evening hour,The youngsters' kites with streaming tailsAre riding out the strongest gales.The doves in steeples hide awayOr keep their houses through the day,Mistaking every kite that fliesFor bird of prey of wondrous size.""You're not alone," another cried,"In taking note. I, too, have spiedThe boys of late, in street and court,Or on the roofs, at this fine sport;But yesternight I chanced to seeA kite entangled in a tree.The string was nowhere to be found;The tail about a bough was wound.Some birds had torn the paper out,To line their nests, in trees about,But there beside the wreck I staid,Until I learned how kites are made.On me you safely may depend,To show the way to cut and bend.So let us now, while winds are high,Our hands at once to work apply;And from the hill that lifts its crownSo far above the neighboring town,NEWSSUPERFINE FLOURWe'll send our kites aloft in crowds,To lose themselves among the clouds."A smile on every face was spread,At thought of fun like this, ahead;And quickly all the plans were laid,And work for every Brownie made.Some to the kitchens ran in haste,To manufacture pots of paste.Some ran for tacks or shingle-nails,And some for rags to make the tails,While more with loads of paper came,Or whittled sticks to make the frame.The strings, that others gathered, soonSeemed long enough to reach the moon.But where such quantities they found,'Tis not so easy to expound;—Perhaps some twine-shop, standing nigh,Was raided for the large supply;Perhaps some youthful angler whinesAbout his missing fishing-lines.But let them find things where they will,The Brownies must be furnished still;And those who can't such losses stand,Will have to charge it to the Band.With busy fingers, well applied,They clipped and pasted, bent and tied;With paint and brush some ran aboutFrom kite to kite, to fit them out.On some they paint a visage fair,While others would affright a bear,Nor was it long (as one might guessWho knows what skill their hands possess)Before the kites, with string and tail,Were all prepared to ride the gale;And oh, the climax of their gleeWas reached when kites were floating free!So quick they mounted through the airThat tangling strings played mischief there,And threatened to remove from landSome valued members of the band.The birds of night were horrifiedAt finding kites on every side,And netted strings, that seemed to beDesigned to limit action free.ButBrownies stood or ran aboutNow winding up, now letting out;Now giving kites more tail or wing,Now wishing for a longer string;Until they saw the hints of dayApproaching through the morning gray.

That ill the slightest draught can bear;

While, high above the tallest tower,

At morning, noon, and evening hour,

The youngsters' kites with streaming tails

Are riding out the strongest gales.

The doves in steeples hide away

Or keep their houses through the day,

Mistaking every kite that flies

For bird of prey of wondrous size."

"You're not alone," another cried,"In taking note. I, too, have spiedThe boys of late, in street and court,Or on the roofs, at this fine sport;But yesternight I chanced to seeA kite entangled in a tree.The string was nowhere to be found;The tail about a bough was wound.Some birds had torn the paper out,To line their nests, in trees about,But there beside the wreck I staid,Until I learned how kites are made.On me you safely may depend,To show the way to cut and bend.So let us now, while winds are high,Our hands at once to work apply;And from the hill that lifts its crownSo far above the neighboring town,NEWSSUPERFINE FLOURWe'll send our kites aloft in crowds,To lose themselves among the clouds."A smile on every face was spread,At thought of fun like this, ahead;And quickly all the plans were laid,And work for every Brownie made.Some to the kitchens ran in haste,To manufacture pots of paste.Some ran for tacks or shingle-nails,And some for rags to make the tails,While more with loads of paper came,Or whittled sticks to make the frame.The strings, that others gathered, soonSeemed long enough to reach the moon.But where such quantities they found,'Tis not so easy to expound;—Perhaps some twine-shop, standing nigh,Was raided for the large supply;Perhaps some youthful angler whinesAbout his missing fishing-lines.

"You're not alone," another cried,

"In taking note. I, too, have spied

The boys of late, in street and court,

Or on the roofs, at this fine sport;

But yesternight I chanced to see

A kite entangled in a tree.

The string was nowhere to be found;

The tail about a bough was wound.

Some birds had torn the paper out,

To line their nests, in trees about,

But there beside the wreck I staid,

Until I learned how kites are made.

On me you safely may depend,

To show the way to cut and bend.

So let us now, while winds are high,

Our hands at once to work apply;

And from the hill that lifts its crown

So far above the neighboring town,

We'll send our kites aloft in crowds,

To lose themselves among the clouds."

A smile on every face was spread,

At thought of fun like this, ahead;

And quickly all the plans were laid,

And work for every Brownie made.

Some to the kitchens ran in haste,

To manufacture pots of paste.

Some ran for tacks or shingle-nails,

And some for rags to make the tails,

While more with loads of paper came,

Or whittled sticks to make the frame.

The strings, that others gathered, soon

Seemed long enough to reach the moon.

But where such quantities they found,

'Tis not so easy to expound;—

Perhaps some twine-shop, standing nigh,

Was raided for the large supply;

Perhaps some youthful angler whines

About his missing fishing-lines.

But let them find things where they will,The Brownies must be furnished still;And those who can't such losses stand,Will have to charge it to the Band.With busy fingers, well applied,They clipped and pasted, bent and tied;With paint and brush some ran aboutFrom kite to kite, to fit them out.On some they paint a visage fair,While others would affright a bear,Nor was it long (as one might guessWho knows what skill their hands possess)Before the kites, with string and tail,Were all prepared to ride the gale;And oh, the climax of their gleeWas reached when kites were floating free!So quick they mounted through the airThat tangling strings played mischief there,And threatened to remove from landSome valued members of the band.

But let them find things where they will,

The Brownies must be furnished still;

And those who can't such losses stand,

Will have to charge it to the Band.

With busy fingers, well applied,

They clipped and pasted, bent and tied;

With paint and brush some ran about

From kite to kite, to fit them out.

On some they paint a visage fair,

While others would affright a bear,

Nor was it long (as one might guess

Who knows what skill their hands possess)

Before the kites, with string and tail,

Were all prepared to ride the gale;

And oh, the climax of their glee

Was reached when kites were floating free!

So quick they mounted through the air

That tangling strings played mischief there,

And threatened to remove from land

Some valued members of the band.

The birds of night were horrifiedAt finding kites on every side,And netted strings, that seemed to beDesigned to limit action free.

The birds of night were horrified

At finding kites on every side,

And netted strings, that seemed to be

Designed to limit action free.

ButBrownies stood or ran aboutNow winding up, now letting out;Now giving kites more tail or wing,Now wishing for a longer string;Until they saw the hints of dayApproaching through the morning gray.

But

Now winding up, now letting out;

Now giving kites more tail or wing,

Now wishing for a longer string;

Until they saw the hints of day

Approaching through the morning gray.

WHENflitting bats commenced to wheelAround the eaves to find their meal,And owls to hoot in forests wide,To call their owlets to their side,The Brownie Band, in full array,Through silent streets pursued their way.But as they neared a building high,Surprise was shown in every eye.They heard the strains of music sweet,And tripping of the dancers' feet;While o'er the tap of heel and toe,The twang of harp and scrape of bow,Arose the clear and ringing callOf those who had control of all.The Brownies slackened their swift pace,Then gathered closely round the place,To study out some way to winA peep or two at those within.Said one: "In matters of this kindOpinions differ, you will find.And some might say, with sober thought,That children should not thus be taughtTo hop around on toe and heelSo actively to fiddle's squeal,For fear 'twould turn their minds awayFrom graver duties of the day."Another said: "The dancing artDoth ease to every move impart.It gives alike to city-bredAnd country-born a graceful tread,And helps them bear themselves alongWithout offense in greatest throng.The nimble step, the springing knee,And balanced body all agree.The feet, my friends, may glide with graceAs well as trudge from place to place.And in the parlor or withoutThey best can stand or walk aboutWho found in early life a chanceTo mingle in the sprightly dance."The Brownies need no ladders long,No hoists, nor elevators strong,To lift them to an upper flight,A window-sill, or transom light.The weather-vane upon the spire,That overlooks the town entire,Is not too high above the baseIf fancy leads them to the place.'Tis said the very fleecy cloudsThey can bestride in eager crowds,Around the world their way to find,And leave the lagging winds behind.Said one: "We've scaled the dizzy heightsOf mountain-peaks on other nights,And crossed the stream from shore to shoreWhere but the string-piece stretched before;And cunning Brownies, never fear,Will find some way to enter here."

HENflitting bats commenced to wheel

Around the eaves to find their meal,

And owls to hoot in forests wide,

To call their owlets to their side,

The Brownie Band, in full array,

Through silent streets pursued their way.

But as they neared a building high,

Surprise was shown in every eye.

They heard the strains of music sweet,

And tripping of the dancers' feet;

While o'er the tap of heel and toe,

The twang of harp and scrape of bow,

Arose the clear and ringing call

Of those who had control of all.

The Brownies slackened their swift pace,

Then gathered closely round the place,

To study out some way to win

A peep or two at those within.

Said one: "In matters of this kind

Opinions differ, you will find.

And some might say, with sober thought,

That children should not thus be taught

To hop around on toe and heel

So actively to fiddle's squeal,

For fear 'twould turn their minds away

From graver duties of the day."

Another said: "The dancing art

Doth ease to every move impart.

It gives alike to city-bred

And country-born a graceful tread,

And helps them bear themselves along

Without offense in greatest throng.

The nimble step, the springing knee,

And balanced body all agree.

The feet, my friends, may glide with grace

As well as trudge from place to place.

And in the parlor or without

They best can stand or walk about

Who found in early life a chance

To mingle in the sprightly dance."

The Brownies need no ladders long,

No hoists, nor elevators strong,

To lift them to an upper flight,

A window-sill, or transom light.

The weather-vane upon the spire,

That overlooks the town entire,

Is not too high above the base

If fancy leads them to the place.

'Tis said the very fleecy clouds

They can bestride in eager crowds,

Around the world their way to find,

And leave the lagging winds behind.

Said one: "We've scaled the dizzy heights

Of mountain-peaks on other nights,

And crossed the stream from shore to shore

Where but the string-piece stretched before;

And cunning Brownies, never fear,

Will find some way to enter here."

WHENonce the Brownies' plans were laid,No formal, tiresome speech was made.In mystic ways, to Brownies known,They clambered up the walls of stone.They clung to this and that, like briers,They climbed the smooth electric wires;Some members lending ready aidTo those who weaker nerves displayed.And in five minutes at the most,By vine, by bracket, and by post,By every scroll, and carving bold,That toes could touch or fingers holdThey made their way, and gained a chanceTo view, unnoticed, every dance.Said one: "How pleasant is the sightTo see those children young and brightWhile skipping blithely to and fro,Now joined in pairs, now in a row,Or formed in circles, hand in hand,And lightly moving at command—Like butterflies through balmy airWhen summer spreads attractions fair,And blends with every whispering breezeThe drowsy hum of working bees."Another said: "When this is o'erThe Brownie Band will take the floor.We'll bide our time and not be slowTo take possession when they go.Then up and down the spacious hallWe'll imitate the steps of all.We'll show that not in Frenchmen's bonesLies all the grace that nature owns;That others at the waltz can shineAs well as Germans from the Rhine;That we some capers can enjoyAs well as natives of Savoy."While thus they talked, the moments flew,And soon the master's task was through.When children's cloaks were wrapped around,And heavier shoes their feet had foundThey hastened home; but while they sleptThe Brownies in that building creptTo take their turn at lively reel,At graceful glide, or dizzy wheel,Till all the dances people know,From Cuba's palms to Russia's snowWere tried, and soon in every caseWere mastered with surprising grace.Imagine how they skipped about,And how they danced, with laugh and shout!

HENonce the Brownies' plans were laid,

No formal, tiresome speech was made.

In mystic ways, to Brownies known,

They clambered up the walls of stone.

They clung to this and that, like briers,

They climbed the smooth electric wires;

Some members lending ready aid

To those who weaker nerves displayed.

And in five minutes at the most,

By vine, by bracket, and by post,

By every scroll, and carving bold,

That toes could touch or fingers hold

They made their way, and gained a chance

To view, unnoticed, every dance.

Said one: "How pleasant is the sight

To see those children young and bright

While skipping blithely to and fro,

Now joined in pairs, now in a row,

Or formed in circles, hand in hand,

And lightly moving at command—

Like butterflies through balmy air

When summer spreads attractions fair,

And blends with every whispering breeze

The drowsy hum of working bees."

Another said: "When this is o'erThe Brownie Band will take the floor.We'll bide our time and not be slowTo take possession when they go.Then up and down the spacious hallWe'll imitate the steps of all.We'll show that not in Frenchmen's bonesLies all the grace that nature owns;That others at the waltz can shineAs well as Germans from the Rhine;That we some capers can enjoyAs well as natives of Savoy."

Another said: "When this is o'er

The Brownie Band will take the floor.

We'll bide our time and not be slow

To take possession when they go.

Then up and down the spacious hall

We'll imitate the steps of all.

We'll show that not in Frenchmen's bones

Lies all the grace that nature owns;

That others at the waltz can shine

As well as Germans from the Rhine;

That we some capers can enjoy

As well as natives of Savoy."

While thus they talked, the moments flew,And soon the master's task was through.When children's cloaks were wrapped around,And heavier shoes their feet had foundThey hastened home; but while they sleptThe Brownies in that building creptTo take their turn at lively reel,At graceful glide, or dizzy wheel,Till all the dances people know,From Cuba's palms to Russia's snowWere tried, and soon in every caseWere mastered with surprising grace.Imagine how they skipped about,And how they danced, with laugh and shout!

While thus they talked, the moments flew,

And soon the master's task was through.

When children's cloaks were wrapped around,

And heavier shoes their feet had found

They hastened home; but while they slept

The Brownies in that building crept

To take their turn at lively reel,

At graceful glide, or dizzy wheel,

Till all the dances people know,

From Cuba's palms to Russia's snow

Were tried, and soon in every case

Were mastered with surprising grace.

Imagine how they skipped about,

And how they danced, with laugh and shout!

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