Part 18 (1/2)

O tiny, tiny Arctic flower Where have you kept yourself so long?

Deep buried in a snowy bower?

And did the winter treat you wrong?

You little, smiling, gladsome thing!

You pretty, pretty flower of spring!

You little, little, wee, wee thing!

So bright, so cheery in the sun, So everything that every one Would wish a flower to bring.

You tiny, tiny little thing!

I'm so afraid the frosts will nip Your little feet, you tenderling, You crazy, crazy little thing!

What e'er possessed you to come up And nestle there beside the snow, As if you'd warm it with a glow Of golden light from your bright face, On which there is no single trace Of anything like sorrow?

Cheery, cheery, always cheery, Always cheery, never weary, E'en with frozen sod close bound, E'en with snow all piled around, E'en with the frosts upon the ground, Your little tender roots to chill!

O, what a royal little will You have, you little gladsome thing, You pretty, pretty flower of spring, You little, little weesome mite, You tiny, tiny little sprite!

E'en now the snows are at your feet, And piled a hundred times your height, Close, close beside your face so sweet!

And yet you smile, you pretty thing, You pretty, pretty flower of spring, You little, little, wee, wee thing!

And do not seem to care a bit, And look as happy, every whit, As any other flower of spring.

And what a lesson, too, you bring To all of us, you little thing!

You show us how to persevere, You show us how a happy cheer May always on the face appear, If G.o.d we trust and G.o.d we fear; For G.o.d is every, every where, And this the flower doth declare,-- The tiny, tiny little flower, The weesome, weesome little flower, The little, smiling, gladsome thing, The pretty, pretty flower of spring, The little, little, wee, wee thing.

”There, now you have it!” exclaimed the Captain, drawing a very long breath, and looking around, no doubt to see the impression he had produced,--”there you have it, my dears!”

The children all expressed themselves highly delighted with this effort of the Captain's in the poetical way, and they all declared if that wasn't a song they ”would like to see one.”

Thus greatly flattered by the pleasure the children received from his recitation of what had become old to him, and deeply rooted in his memory, the Captain resumed once more the thread of his narrative, or, rather, ”once more picked up the broken yarn, and spun away,” as he would have more graphically expressed it.

”Well, well,” continued the Captain, ”you see our little flower died after a while, and all the other little flowers died; and this brought us to the end of our third summer on the island and into the third winter.

”This winter pa.s.sed away as the previous ones had done, and we felt still greater resignation.

”'Here we are forever,' said the Dean, 'and that we must make up our minds to. It is G.o.d's will, and we must bow before it and be reconciled.'

”'I fear, Dean, that is so,' I answered, solemnly.

”This was in the month of February, and the sunlight was coming back, and, to see if we could not catch a glimpse of the G.o.d of day, we had gone out together, wading through the snow.

”The Dean felt it when he said 'we must be reconciled'; but he had hardly spoken when our attention was quickly called away from such reflections (and from the sun too) by seeing something dark upon the frozen sea, not far away from us. It was moving.

”We were not long in doubt as to what it was, for we had seen too many polar bears to be cheated this time,--a bear, without any doubt at all.

”He was running very fast, and was making directly towards the island.

He soon ran behind a large iceberg, and for a little while was out of sight; but he appeared again soon afterwards, and held on in the same course. Then we lost him once more among rough ice, and then again he came in view. He appeared so dark at first, that less-experienced persons might have been uncertain about what it was; for although the polar bear is usually called the white bear, yet in truth he has a yellowish hue, and is quite dark, at least in comparison with the pure white snow.