The Brownies at the Seaside

Within a forest dark and wide, Some distance from the ocean side, A band of Brownies played around On mossy stone or grassy mound, Or, climbing through the branching tree, Performed their antics wild and free.

When one, arising in his place With sparkling eyes and beaming face Soon won attention from the rest, And thus the listening throng addressed: "For years and years, through heat and cold, Our home has been this forest old; The saplings which we used to bend Now like a schooner's masts ascend.

Yet here we live, content to ride A springing bough with childish pride, Content to bathe in brook or bog Along with lizard, leech, and frog; We're far behind the age you'll find If once you note the human kind.

The modern youths no longer lave Their limbs beneath the muddy wave Of meadow pool or village pond, But seek the ocean far beyond. If pleasure in the sea is found Not offered by the streams around, The Brownie band at once should haste

These unfamiliar joys to taste; No torch nor lantern's ray we'll need To show our path o'er dewy mead, The ponds and pitfalls in the swale, The open ditch, the slivered rail, The poison vine and thistle high Show clear before the Brownie's eye." —Next evening, as their plan they'd laid, The band soon gathered in the shade. All clustered like a swarm of bees They darted from the sheltering trees; And straight across the country wide Began their journey to the tide. And when they neared the beach at last,— The stout, the lean, the slow, the fast,— 'T was hard to say, of all the lot, Who foremost reached the famous spot. "And now," said one with active mind. "What proper garments can we find? In bathing costume, as you know, The people in the ocean go."

Another spoke, "For such demands, The building large that yonder stands,

As one can see on passing by, Is full of garments clean and dry. There every fashion, loose or tight, We may secure with labor light."

Though Brownies never carry keys, They find an entrance where they please; And never do they chuckle more Than when some miser bars his door; For well they know that, spite of locks, Of rings and staples, bolts and blocks, Were they inclined to play such prank He'd find at morn an empty bank. So now the crafty Brownie crew Soon brought the bathing-suits to view; Some, working on the inner side, The waiting throng without supplied.—

'Twas busy work, as may be guessed, Before the band was fully dressed; Some still had cloth enough to lend, Though shortened up at either end; Sortie ran about to find a pin, While others rolled, and puckered in,