Part 29 (2/2)

THE BALLAD OF THE BEACH.

”Take off thy stockings, Samuel!

Now take them off, I pray; Roll up thy trousers, Samuel, And come with me to play.

”The ebbing tide has left the sand All hard and smooth and white, And we will build a goodly fort, And have a goodly fight.”

Then Samuel he pulled off His hose of scarlet hue, And Samuel he rolled up His breeches darkly blue.

And hand-in-hand with Reginald, He hied him to the beach; Each little boy a shovel had, And eke a pail had each.

Then down upon the s.h.i.+ning sand Right joyfully they sat; And far upon the s.h.i.+ning sand Each tossed his broad-brimmed hat.

Then valiantly to work they went, Like st.u.r.dy lads and true; And there they built a stately fort, The best that they might do.

”Now sit we down within the walls, Which rise above our head, And we will make us cannon-b.a.l.l.s Of sand, as good as lead.”

Now as they worked, these little boys, Full glad in heart and mind, The creeping tide came back again, To see what it could find.

The creeping tide came up the sand, To see what it could do; And there it found two broad-brimmed hats, With ribbons red and blue.

And ”See now!” said the creeping tide; ”These hats belong, I trow, To Reginald and Samuel; I saw them here but now.”

And ”See now!” said the creeping tide; ”What hinders me to float These hats out to the boys' mamma, Is sailing in a boat?”

Then up there came two little waves, All rippling so free; They lifted up the broad-brimmed hats, And bore them out to sea.

The ribbons red and ribbons blue Streamed gallantly away; The straw did glitter in the sun, Were never craft so gay!

The mother of these little lads Was sailing on the sea; And now she laughed, and now she sang, And who so blithe as she?

And ”Look!” she said; ”what things be these That dance upon the wave, All fluttering and glittering And sparkling so brave?

”Now row me well, my brethren, twain, Now row me o'er the sea!

For we will chase these tiny craft, And see what they may be.”

They rowed her fast, they rowed her well,-- Too well, those gallants true; For when she reached the broad-brimmed hats, Right well those hats she knew.

”Alas!” she cried; ”my little lads Are drowned in the sea!”

Then down she sank in deadly swoon, As pale as she might be.

They rowed her well, those gallants gay, They rowed her to the land; They lifted up that lady pale, And bore her up the strand.

But as they bore her up the beach, The b.a.l.l.s began to fly, And hit those gallants on the nose, And hit them in the eye.

They looked here, they looked there, To see whence this might be; And soon they spied a stately fort, Beside the salt, salt sea.

And straight from out the stately fort The b.a.l.l.s were flying free; Each gallant rubbed his smitten nose, And eke his eye rubbed he.

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