human
Can you write me a poem about candlemas, christmas and cock - pheasant in the style of F. Edward (Frederick Edward) Hulme?
assistant
Sure, here's a poem about candlemas, christmas and cock - pheasant in the style of F. Edward (Frederick Edward) Hulme:
  _King Henry VII. and the Shipwrights_
_Song of the Men's Side_
_Eddi's Service_
_An Astrologer's Song_
_Frankie's Trade_
'Admiral Boy--Vice-Admiral Babe,' says
Gloriana, 'I cry your pardon'            _Face page_
I kneeled, and he tapped me on the shoulder.
'Rise up, Sir Harry Dawe,' he says               "
They made the sign which no Indian makes
outside of the Medicine Lodges                   "
'You'll open a road from the East unto the
West, and back again'                            "
_Take of English earth as much
As either hand may rightly clutch.
In the taking of it breathe
Prayer for all who lie beneath--
Not the great nor well bespoke,
But the mere uncounted folk
Of whose life and death is none
Report or lamentation.
Lay that earth upon thy heart,
And thy sickness shall depart!_
_It shall sweeten and make whole
Fevered breath and festered soul;
It shall mightily restrain
Over-busy hand and brain;
It shall ease thy mortal strife
'Gainst the immortal woe of life,
Till thyself restored shall prove
By what grace the Heavens do move._
_Take of English flowers these--
Spring's full-faced primroses,
Summer's wild wide-hearted rose,
Autumn's wall-flower of the close,
And, thy darkness to illume,
Winter's bee-thronged ivy-bloom.
Seek and serve them where they bide
From Candlemas to Christmas-tide.
For these simples used aright
Shall restore a failing sight._
_These shall cleanse and purify
Webbed and inward-turning eye;
These shall show thee treasure hid,
Thy familiar fields amid,
At thy threshold, on thy hearth,
Or about thy daily path;
And reveal (which is thy need)
Every man a King indeed!_
To see what they should see and hear what they should hear,
Though it should have happened three thousand year.
cock-pheasants crowing in the woods behind them.
'Ah, Mus' Reynolds--Mus' Reynolds'--Dan was quoting from old
Hobden,--'if I knowed all you knowed, I'd know something.'
 See 'The Winged Hats' in _Puck of Pook's Hill_.
'So did I,' Dan began. 'What is it?'
They faced each other stammering with excitement.
'I remember now,' Dan shouted. 'It's as plain as the nose on your
'I remember, too,' said Una. 'And it's Midsummer Day again!'
The young fern on a knoll rustled, and Puck walked out, chewing a
'Doesn't that sound like--er--the People of the Hills?' said Una.
'Oh, we know that. I only said it sounded like.'
'I like that!' said Dan. 'After all you told us last year, too!'
'Not with those boots round your neck.'
'I'll take them off.' She threw them on the turf. Dan's followed
immediately. 'Now!' she said.
'I don't quite see. How do you mean?' said Dan.
'It would take me some time to tell you.'
another, which they shared with Puck.
'Oh, I know. Steal it and leave a changeling,' Una cried.
'But they don't do it now,' said Una.
'Who was Sir Huon?' Dan asked, and Puck turned on him in quiet
astonishment.
'Of course,' said Dan, flushing.
splendid fortune, and send him out into the world?"
thinking. You see, Sir Huon had been a man once.
'What sort of rings?' said Dan.
'Beast himself!' said Una, and kicked her bare heel on the gate.
Church'll make a monk of it, and we'll step along home."
'Who was his Lady?' said Dan.
'And what did you see?'
'A smith forging something or other out of Cold Iron. When it was
'How did you know?' Dan went on.
'Because I knew the Smith that made it,' said Puck quietly.
'Wayland Smith?' Una suggested.
 See 'Weland's Sword' in _Puck of Pook's Hill_.
'Was it Thor then?' Una murmured under her breath.
'The dear!' said Una. 'I'd like to have seen him!'
'Not even once?' said Una. 'If he was very lonely?'
'What sort of shows?' said Dan.
'How did you know?' said Una.
'He was coming slowly, but he stumbled in the footpath, being, of
'"Why, what's this?" he said to himself. We three heard him.
scratting in the dirt to prize it up.
sometimes."
'He called back, reading the runes on the iron:
Further forth
Than when the child
'"What else could I have done?" said he.
'And what happened to him?' asked Dan.
'_Gold is for the mistress--silver for the maid!
Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade._'
'Good!' said the Baron, sitting in his hall,
'But Iron--Cold Iron--is master of them all!'
So he made rebellion 'gainst the King his liege,
Camped before his citadel and summoned it to siege--
'Nay!' said the cannoneer on the castle wall,
'But Iron--Cold Iron--shall be master of you all!'
Woe for the Baron and his knights so strong,
When the cruel cannon-balls laid 'em all along!
He was taken prisoner, he was cast in thrall,
And Iron--Cold Iron--was master of it all!
Yet his King spake kindly (Oh, how kind a Lord!)
'What if I release thee now and give thee back thy sword?'
'Nay!' said the Baron, 'mock not at my fall,
For Iron--Cold Iron--is master of men all.'
'_Tears are for the craven, prayers are for the clown--
Halters for the silly neck that cannot keep a crown._'
'As my loss is grievous, so my hope is small,
For Iron--Cold Iron--must be master of men all!'
Yet his King made answer (few such Kings there be!)
'Here is Bread and here is Wine--sit and sup with me.
Eat and drink in Mary's name, the whiles I do recall
How Iron--Cold Iron--can be master of men all!'
He took the Wine and blessed It; He blessed and brake the Bread.
With His own Hands He served Them, and presently He said:
'Look! These Hands they pierced with nails outside my city wall
Show Iron--Cold Iron--to be master of men all!
'Wounds are for the desperate, blows are for the strong,
Balm and oil for weary hearts all cut and bruised with wrong.
I forgive thy treason--I redeem thy fall--
For Iron--Cold Iron--must be master of men all!'
'_Crowns are for the valiant--sceptres for the bold!
Thrones and powers for mighty men who dare to take and hold._'
'Nay!' said the Baron, kneeling in his hall,
'But Iron--Cold Iron--is master of man all!
Iron, out of Calvary, is master of man all!'
Have latterly gone hence
To certain death by certain shame attended.
Envy--ah! even to tears!--
The fortune of their years
Which, though so few, yet so divinely ended.
Scarce had they lifted up
Life's full and fiery cup,
Than they had set it down untouched before them.
Before their day arose
They beckoned it to close--
Close in destruction and confusion o'er them.
They did not stay to ask
What prize should crown their task,
Well sure that prize was such as no man strives for;
But passed into eclipse,
Her kiss upon their lips--
Even Belphoebe's, whom they gave their lives for!
'Oh, it's you, is it?' said Una. 'We thought it was people.'
'I saw you were angry--from your legs,' he answered with a grin.
'Well, it's our own Kingdom--not counting you, of course.'
'That's rather why I came. A lady here wants to see you.'
'What about?' said Dan cautiously.
'Oh, just Kingdoms and things. She knows about Kingdoms.'
Puck led them up to her and bowed solemnly. Una made the best
Una did not quite understand. 'We don't play that,' she said.
'Play?' The lady threw up her hands and laughed.
'We have it for our own, together,' Dan explained.
'And d'you never quarrel, young Burleigh?'
'Sometimes, but then we don't tell.'
'We never ask,' said Una. 'Hobden's a particular friend of ours.'
'Was she trying to grow flowers?' said Una.
'Yes. They come from Virginia. Did your maid ever plant any?'
'And was she?' said Dan cheerfully.
'And what was she called?'
'Well, I--I've seen the little green shoes she left at Brickwall
She thrust out one foot, and stooped forward to look at its broad
'I don't quite understand,' said Una.
'I should like to know about the shoes,' said Dan.
'We've never been to a play,' said Una.
'Norgem,' he croaked, and squatted by the wigwam.
'You whipped?' said Dan.
'Frewens, Courthopes, Fullers, Husseys,' Puck began.
'That wasn't Philip, King of Spain?' Dan asked.
'Why? What did she do? What had they done?' said Una.
'And which had she really looked at?' Dan asked.
'Gloriana's mind jumped back to Philip's last letter.
'"How far is it from England?" asks prudent Gloriana.
They leaned forward breathlessly to watch the splendid acting.
'What was finished?' said Una.
'I don't understand a bit,' said Una.
'Eh? What did _you_ make of it, young Burleigh?'
'You never can be--with a woman. But----'
''Twas Virginia afterwards. Her plantation of Virginia.'
'Right so. But not ships--_then_.'
understood!'
'I don't understand,' said Una. 'What about the two cousins?'
me--ah, it shakes me to the marrow of my old bones.'
Her chest sounded like a board as she hit it.
'"Sweetheart," I said. "A queen has no heart."
'"Be ruled by me," I said. "We'll hire some ill-featured old
'"Come to Court and be sure of it," I says.
'May it please your Majesty,' the lady bowed her head low, 'this
'They went,' said the lady.
The lady turned to him eagerly.
'D'you think they did right to go?' she asked.
'I don't see what else they could have done,' Dan replied, after
thinking it over.
'Of course not. She was bound to try to stop him.'
_Queen Bess was Harry's daughter!_
The Queen was in her chamber, and she was middling old,
Her petticoat was satin and her stomacher was gold.
Backwards and forwards and sideways did she pass,
Making up her mind to face the cruel looking-glass.
The cruel looking-glass that will never show a lass
As comely or as kindly or as young as once she was!
The Queen was in her chamber, a-combing of her hair,
There came Queen Mary's spirit and it stood behind her chair,
Singing, 'Backwards and forwards and sideways may you pass,
But I will stand behind you till you face the looking-glass.
The cruel looking-glass that will never show a lass
As lovely or unlucky or as lonely as I was!'
The Queen was in her chamber, a-weeping very sore,
But I will walk beside you till you face the looking-glass.
The cruel looking-glass that will never show a lass
As hard and unforgiving or as wicked as you was!'
The Queen was in her chamber; her sins were on her head;
She looked the spirits up and down and statelily she said:
'Backwards and forwards and sideways though I've been,
Yet I am Harry's daughter and I am England's Queen!'
And she faced the looking-glass (and whatever else there was),
And she saw her day was over and she saw her beauty pass
In the cruel looking-glass that can always hurt a lass
More hard than any ghost there is or any man there was!
_I tell this tale which is strictly true,
Just by way of convincing you
How very little since things were made
Things have altered in the building trade._
A year ago, come the middle o' March,
We was building flats near the Marble Arch,
When a thin young man with coal-black hair
Came up to watch us working there.
Now there wasn't a trick in brick or stone
That this young man hadn't seen or known;
Nor there wasn't a tool from trowel to maul
But this young man could use 'em all!
Then up and spoke the plumbyers bold,
Which was laying the pipes for the hot and cold:
'Since you with us have made so free,
Will you kindly say what your name might be?'
The young man kindly answered them:
'It might be Lot or Methusalem,
Or it might be Moses (a man I hate),
Whereas it is Pharaoh surnamed the Great.
'Your glazing is new and your plumbing's strange,
But otherwise I perceive no change,
And in less than a month if you do as I bid
I'd learn you to build me a Pyramid.'
_I tell this tale which is stricter true,
Just by way of convincing you
How very little since things was made
Things have altered in the shipwright's trade._
In Blackwall Basin yesterday
A China barque re-fitting lay,
When a fat old man with snow-white hair
Came up to watch us working there.
Now there wasn't a knot which the riggers knew
But the old man made it--and better too;
Nor there wasn't a sheet, or a lift, or a brace,
But the old man knew its lead and place.
Then up and spake the caulkyers bold,
Which was packing the pump in the after-hold:
'Since you with us have made so free,
Will you kindly tell what your name might be?'
The old man kindly answered them:
Or it might be Ham (though his skin was dark),
Whereas it is Noah, commanding the Ark.
'Your wheel is new and your pumps are strange,
But otherwise I perceive no change,
And in less than a week, if she did not ground,
BOTH: _We tell these tales which are strictest true, etc._
One hot, still afternoon--the tar-paper on the roof smelt like
'What did he say?' Dan was sandpapering the schooner's port bow.
 See 'Hal o' the Draft' in _Puck of Pook's Hill_.
'I be,' was the answer. 'But if you want a job----'
He asked Hal several curious questions, and the answers must have
'Well I know it,' said Hal.
'_I_ know. You're everlastin' running acrost him,' Mr. Springett
'I was saying that before the end of the year I went to Bury to
strengthen the lead-work in the great Abbey east window there.'
'He better ha' stuck to his whale, then,' said Mr. Springett.
'"'Tis good," I said, "but it goes no deeper than the plaster."
'"What?" he said in a whisper.
'I can't say I ever did. Was he a Frenchy like?'
'I was pretty middlin' young once on a time,' said Mr. Springett.
'I never held much with dressin' up, but--you're right! The worst
'I'll spare you some of my follies. But there was a man called
'Was she a man-of-war?' asked Dan.
'It must ha' just about looked fine,' said Mr. Springett.
'"I'm busy, about my art," I calls.
'"Master Harry Dawe?" said he.
'"The same," I says. "Where a plague has Bob Brygandyne gone?"
'"I doubt it will be fresh expense to draft it again," he says.
'He looks at me squintlings and plucks his under-lip.
'"Is this your honest, unswayed opinion?" he says.
three-quarters of a rusty sword.
heart--Benedetto! Even so I laughed--the fit was beyond my
'Excuse me, sir,' said Mr. Springett, 'but I was thinkin' of some
'Were there any springs at all?' said Hal.
Harry our King in England, from London town is gone,
And comen to Hamull on the Hoke in the countie of Suthampton.
For there lay _The Mary of the Tower_, his ship of war so strong,
He told not none of his setting forth, nor yet where he would go,
In an old jerkin and patched hose that no man might him mark;
With his frieze hood and cloak about, he looked like any clerk.
He was at Hamull on the Hoke about the hour of the tide,
And saw the _Mary_ haled into dock, the winter to abide,
With all her tackle and habiliments which are the King his own;
They heaved the main-mast overboard, that was of a trusty tree,
To maken beds for their own wives and little children also.
There was a knave called Slingawai, he crope beneath the deck,
Crying: 'Good felawes, come and see! The ship is nigh a wreck!
With that he set the pott on his head and hied him up the hatch,
He caught Slingawai round the waist and threw him on to the mud.
'Gramercy, yeoman!' said our King. 'Thy council liketh me.'
And behind him the Mayor and Burgesses of merry Suthampton town.
When they had beaten Slingawai, out of his own lips,
Our King appointed Brygandyne to be Clerk of all his ships.
They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath,
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods,
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.
Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate.
(They fear not men in the woods
Because they see so few)
You will hear the beat of a horse's feet
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods....
But there is no road through the woods.
'Why didn't you tie it down, child?' said a voice behind her.
'Can you milk?' Una asked, and then flushed, for she heard Puck's
housewife.'
'You've got a cold,' said Una.
'I don't know any,' Una replied. 'But I'm sure I shouldn't.'
'I'm not a child, and my name's Una,' she said.
Philadelphia laughed till she caught her breath again.
'Really mad?' said Una. 'Or just silly?'
'How jolly! I love store-rooms and giving out things.'
'And what did your father say?'
'Took! But isn't that stealing?' Una cried.
'It sounds awful,' said Una.
'Isn't it like 'em?' Una burst out. 'They see you're worried over
'Hanged, do you mean?' Una said.
'Put a charm on you? Why?'
'How awful! What did you do, Phil?'
witchmaster, I meant to----'
'Ah! what's a Witchmaster?'
'"I know it," he said. "But they're yours now."
'"But you made my Cissie steal them," I said.
'"What else for, dearie?" he said. "_I_ don't stand in need of
'"I haven't any complaints, Jerry," I said. "It's only to please
'I wonder,' said Una. 'Well, did you try the charm? Did it work?'
'Trumpets? Aren't you too old for trumpets?' said Una.
'"Then these poor people are alarmed--No?" said Rene.
'"I thought so too," said Jerry. "But how about time to come?"
'"I've thought that too," said Jerry. He rumbled so deep I could
'You ought to have seen Rene bow; he does it beautifully.
'"Whatever that means, I reckon it's safer than asking you to be
doctor," said Jerry, and Tom Dunch, one of our carters, laughed.
themselves!" Rene was holding a trumpet in his hand.
commence."
'Dr. Break took it as if it was red-hot, but he said that if Rene
'Oh, I can!' Una laughed till she nearly fell off the stool.
'"What's happened? What's happened?" said Dad.
'Oh, you lucky!' Una murmured. '_And_ gloves?'
'Oh, how chee--clever of you. What did he say?' Una cried.
whist-party--I suppose because a lady was present.'
'Of course you were the lady; I wish I'd seen you,' said Una.
'But what _was_ the subject of their remarks?' said Una.
'What was it?' said Una. 'Sing it.'
Philadelphia coughed and cleared her throat.
'I have given my heart to a flower,
Though I know it is fading away,
Though I know it will live but an hour
And leave me to mourn its decay!
'Ye desolate whirlwinds that rave,
I charge you be good to my dear!
She is all--she is all that I have,
And the time of our parting is near!'
'Beautiful!' said Una. 'And did they like it?'
'And what did Dr. Break do?'
'It didn't matter,' said Una; 'I just waited. Is that old _Pansy_
I was very well pleased with what I knowed,
I reckoned myself no fool--
Till I met with a maid on the Brookland Road,
That turned me back to school.
_Low down--low down!
Where the liddle green lanterns shine--
Oh! maids, I've done with 'ee all but one,
And she can never be mine!_
'Twas right in the middest of a hot June night,
With thunder duntin' round,
And I see'd her face by the fairy light
That beats from off the ground.
She only smiled and she never spoke,
She smiled and went away;
But when she'd gone my heart was broke,
And my wits was clean astray.
Oh! Stop your ringing and let me be--
Let be, Oh Brookland bells!
You'll ring Old Goodman out of the sea,
Before I wed one else!
Old Goodman's farm is rank sea sand,
And was this thousand year;
But it shall turn to rich plough land
Before I change my dear!
Oh! Fairfield Church is water-bound
But it shall turn to high hill ground
Before my bells do ring!
Oh! leave me walk on the Brookland Road,
In the thunder and warm rain--
Oh! leave me look where my love goed
And p'raps I'll see her again!
_Low down--low down!
Where the liddle green lanterns shine--
Oh! maids, I've done with 'ee all but one,
And she can never be mine._
_The Weald is good, the Downs are best--
I'll give you the run of 'em, East to West._
They were once and they are still.
Go back as far as sums'll carry.
They have looked on many a thing;
And what those two have missed between 'em
I reckon Truleigh Hill has seen 'em.
Knew Old England before the Crown.
Knew Old England before the Flood.
And when you end on the Hampshire side--
Butser's old as Time and Tide.
_The Downs are sheep, the Weald is corn,
You be glad you are Sussex born!_
and--you go there, and there's nothing between.'
'Not yet,' said Dan. 'Where's Mr. Dudeney? Where's master?'
Old Jim looked as if he thought they were mad, and asked again.
'We be,' said Una, flopping down. '_And_ tired.'
'Brooks flood. Then you must shift your sheep--let alone foot-rot
The air trembled a little as though it could not make up its mind
'The Beast was dealt with long ago. He has gone,' said Puck.
'He'll be back at lambing-time. _I_ know him.' He chipped very
carefully, and the flints squeaked.
The man slid his sheepskin cloak to his waist, and without a word
dimples.
'Hand, hammer, and spear, as our fathers did before us.'
'Good!' said he, in a surprised tone.
'So I see by the iron. What might it have cost you?'
Puck sighed a little fluttering sigh. 'Take the knife. I listen.'
'Yours was a great country. Your names are great too,' said Puck.
'Ahai!' said Puck. 'I think this will be a very old tale.'
'I hear. I know. I listen,' said Puck.
'I do not know. Did you desire so much?' said Puck.
'I said, "This is a hard proof. Is there no other road?"
'I said, "It would be easier if I knew that I were to be killed."
'True! Most true,' said Puck. 'No common man's work, that. And,
afterwards?'
At this Dan put his hand over one eye, and reached for the flint
arrow-head on the grass. He missed it by inches. 'It's true,' he
mutters--_ump-ump_. The Beast heard. The Beast saw. _He_ knew!
'How? Eh? Oh, I remember! Amber,' said Puck.
packs--howling! He knew the Knife had come to the Naked Chalk at
hammer-noises. I was not.'
'Oh, poor--poor God!' said Puck. 'And your wise Mother?'
'We let you have your sleep out,' said Mr. Dudeney, as the flock
scattered before them. 'It's making for tea-time now.'
'Look what I've found,' said Dan, and held up a little blue flint
'One doesn't want to sleep in the woods,' said Una.
Once we feared The Beast--when he followed us we ran,
Ran very fast though we knew
It was not right that The Beast should master Man;
But what could we Flint-workers do?
The Beast only grinned at our spears round his ears--
Grinned at the hammers that we made;
But now we will hunt him for the life with the Knife--
And this is the Buyer of the Blade!
_Room for his shadow on the grass--let it pass!
To left and right--stand clear!
This is the Buyer of the Blade--be afraid!
This is the great god Tyr!_
Tyr thought hard till he hammered out a plan,
For he knew it was not right
(And it _is_ not right) that The Beast should master Man;
So he went to the Children of the Night.
He begged a Magic Knife of their make for our sake.
When he begged for the Knife they said:
'The price of the Knife you would buy is an eye!'
And that was the price he paid.
_Tell it to the Barrows of the Dead--run ahead!
Shout it so the Women's Side can hear!
This is the Buyer of the Blade--be afraid!
This is the great god Tyr!_
Our women and our little ones may walk on the Chalk,
As far as we can see them and beyond.
We shall not be anxious for our sheep when we keep
Tally at the shearing-pond.
We can eat with both our elbows on our knees, if we please,
We can sleep after meals in the sun;
For Shepherd of the Twilight is dismayed at the Blade,
Feet-in-the-Night have run!
Dog-without-a-Master goes away (Hai, Tyr aie!),
Devil-in-the-Dusk has run!
_Room for his shadow on the grass--let it pass!
To left and right--stand clear!
This is the Buyer of the Blade--be afraid!
This is the great god Tyr!_
If you're off to Philadelphia in the morning,
You mustn't take my stories for a guide.
There's little left indeed of the city you will read of
And all the folk I write about have died.
Now few will understand if you mention Talleyrand,
Or remember what his cunning and his skill did.
And the cabmen at the wharf do not know Count Zinnendorf,
Nor the Church in Philadelphia he builded.
It is gone, gone, gone with lost Atlantis
(Never say I didn't give you warning).
In Seventeen Ninety-three 'twas there for all to see,
But it's not in Philadelphia this morning.
If you're off to Philadelphia in the morning,
You mustn't go by everything I've said.
Bob Bicknell's Southern Stages have been laid aside for ages,
But the Limited will take you there instead.
Toby Hirte can't be seen at One Hundred and Eighteen,
North Second Street--no matter when you call;
And I fear you'll search in vain for the wash-house down the lane
It is gone, gone, gone with Thebes the Golden
(Never say I didn't give you warning).
In Seventeen Ninety-four 'twas a famous dancing-floor--
But it's not in Philadelphia this morning.
If you're off to Philadelphia in the morning,
You must telegraph for rooms at some Hotel.
You needn't try your luck at Epply's or the 'Buck,'
Though the Father of his Country liked them well.
It is not the slightest use to inquire for Adam Goos,
Or to ask where Pastor Meder has removed--so
You must treat as out of date the story I relate,
Of the Church in Philadelphia he loved so.
He is gone, gone, gone with Martin Luther,
(Never say I didn't give you warning).
In Seventeen Ninety-five he was (rest his soul!) alive.
But he's not in Philadelphia this morning.
If you're off to Philadelphia this morning,
And wish to prove the truth of what I say,
I pledge my word you'll find the pleasant land behind
Unaltered since Red Jacket rode that way.
They are there, there, there with Earth immortal
(Citizens, I give you friendly warning).
The things that truly last when men and times have passed
They are all in Pennsylvania this morning!
They walked to The Gap where the cliff is only a few feet high. A
'Where's Cordery going?' said Una.
'Half-way to Newhaven,' said Dan. 'Then he'll meet the Newhaven
A voice on the beach under the cliff began to sing:
'The moon she shined on Telscombe Tye--
On Telscombe Tye at night it was--
She saw the smugglers riding by,
A very pretty sight it was!'
'Three Dunkirk boats was standin' in!'
the man went on.
'Hssh!' said Puck. 'You'll shock these nice young people.'
'Ha' done!' said Puck, laughing. 'Be one thing or t'other,
Pharaoh--French or English or German--no great odds which.'
'Aren't you English?' said Dan. 'We heard you singing just now.'
Like as two peas.
What they can't smuggle,
They'll run over seas?'
Mr. Lee nodded solemnly.
'Then where did you live?' said Una.
'There was never a Lee to Warminghurst
That wasn't a gipsy last and first.
I reckon that's truth, Pharaoh.'
'By smuggling?' Dan asked.
'No, in the tobacco trade.'
'You don't mean to say you gave up smuggling just to go and be a
tobacconist!' Dan looked so disappointed they all had to laugh.
'A scant mile,' said Puck after a quick look.
'"That means war again, when we was only just getting used to the
'Gracious!' said Una. 'What an adventure!'
'Didn't anybody see you come in?' said Dan.
'I carried the tray to the cabin, but I didn't call this Bompard
shocked--that's where my French blood saved me.
England!"--"Down with Washington!"--"Hurrah for France and the
'"Pick up the pills! Pick up the pills!" the fat man screeches.
'Says the Indian, "He is hungry, Toby. Christians always feed the
'"You like pills--eh?" says Toby.
'"Ho!" he says, and he shoves two bottles at me. "What's those?"
'"Calomel," I says. "And t'other's senna."
'"Oho!" he says. "What note is this?" drawing his bow acrost.
'He meant it for A, so I told him it was.
'"Good," he says at last. "This boy is good."
'I like Toby,' said Una.
'Who was he?' said Puck.
'Then why did he keep her in Davy Jones's locker?' Dan asked.
'How very queer,' said Una.
'I'd have liked that!' said Dan.
'Maybe the gipsy drop in your blood helped you?' said Puck.
'I hate politics, too,' said Una, and Pharaoh laughed.
'When the horses were ready I jumped up.
'Did Toby die of yellow fever?' Una asked.
'D'you mean you were dressed like an Indian?' Dan demanded.
'Hit 'em?' Dan asked.
'"At any price?" says the man with the rook's voice.
'"Then what about the Declaration of Independence?" says one.
'"At any price?" the actor-like chap keeps on croaking.
'What did it mean?' said Dan.
Pharaoh stood up as though he had finished.
'I expect they've packed our trunks by now,' said Dan. 'This time
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master;
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
How far is St. Helena from a little child at play?
What makes you want to wander there with all the world between?
Oh, Mother, call your son again or else he'll run away.
(_No one thinks of winter when the grass is green!_)
How far is St. Helena from a fight in Paris street?
I haven't time to answer now--the men are falling fast.
The guns begin to thunder, and the drums begin to beat.
(_If you take the first step you will take the last!_)
How far is St. Helena from the field of Austerlitz?
You couldn't hear me if I told--so loud the cannons roar.
But not so far for people who are living by their wits.
(_'Gay go up' means 'gay go down' the wide world o'er!_)
How far is St. Helena from an Emperor of France?
I cannot see--I cannot tell--the crowns they dazzle so.
The Kings sit down to dinner, and the Queens stand up to dance.
(_After open weather you may look for snow!_)
How far is St. Helena from the Capes of Trafalgar?
A longish way--a longish way--with ten year more to run.
It's South across the water underneath a setting star.
(_What you cannot finish you must leave undone!_)
How far is St. Helena from the Beresina ice?
An ill way--a chill way--the ice begins to crack.
But not so far for gentlemen who never took advice.
(_When you can't go forward you must e'en come back!_)
How far is St. Helena from the field of Waterloo?
A near way--a clear way--the ship will take you soon.
A pleasant place for gentlemen with little left to do.
(_Morning never tries you till the afternoon!_)
How far from St. Helena to the Gate of Heaven's Grace?
That no one knows--that no one knows--and no one ever will.
But fold your hands across your heart and cover up your face,
And after all your trapesings, child, lie still!
'Don't do that,' Una called down. 'It wasn't his fault.'
'How do you know what I'm beating him for?' she answered.
'You've fanned some of your feathers out of the fire,' said Una.
'There's a tail-feather by that chestnut-tot.'
'What of it?' said the old woman, as she grabbed it.
'That was gipsy for "Thank you kindly, Brother and Sister,"' said
He was standing behind them, his fiddle under his arm.
'Gracious, you startled me!' said Una.
They dropped down the ferny side of the shaw. Una raked the ashes
'That's what the girl was humming to the baby,' said Una.
'I know it,' he nodded, and went on:
'I'm telling it,' he said, staring straight in front of him as he
'Maybe, but _they_ can't. Tell it aloud,' said Puck.
Pharaoh shook himself, laid his fiddle beside him, and began:
'What do they do if they are?' Dan asked.
'Says Red Jacket, keeping back in the dark, "Look at his face!"
'I had to go on to the party, so I asked him to call round for me
'"I did not know you were so fond of priests, Marquise," says the
veritable Huron himself."
'"You had your usual luck, I hope?" she says.
Pharaoh stopped, but the children said nothing.
'You've heard of him?' said Pharaoh.
Una shook her head.
'Was Red Jacket the Indian he played dice with?' Dan asked.
'"They say he comes to find out if Big Hand makes war against the
'And was he something by himself?' asked Una.
'Talleyrand: maybe because I've seen him too,' said Pharaoh.
'Who's third?' said Puck.
'Boney--even though I've seen him.'
'Why hadn't he?' Puck asked.
'Oh!' said Puck. 'I see. What did _you_ do?'
'"Make it five hundred, abbe," I says.
'He had a hard fight to be civil but he come out smiling.
'There wasn't another chair, so I sat on the button-box.
'"You don't believe me, then?" he cuts in.
'Well, then, his temper fled him and he called me names.
'"Go!" he whispers. "Before I kill thee, go."
'He looked like it. So I left him.'
'Why did he want to know so badly?' said Dan.
'The way I look at it is that if he _had_ known for certain that
'Did Red Jacket let you tell, when he came back?' Una asked.
'Talleyrand and me hadn't met for a long time except at _emigre_
'"Hasn't the President said anything to you?" I asked him.
'"I'm sorry," I says. "Maybe you'll do that without my help."
'"Without malice, abbe, I hope," I says.
'"None whatever," says he. "Give my respects to your adorable Dr.
'But after that you met Napoleon, didn't you?' said Una.
'You gipsy! You proper gipsy!' Puck shouted.
Like as two peas.
'Where was you bound for?' Puck asked.
'"My aunt!" the man says, laughing. "Why is she named that?"
'"Only half owner, but the cargo's mine."
'"Will they condemn my 'baccy?" I asks.
'I come back to the barge one day--late in this month Brumaire it
'"Courage, mon ami," he says. "Dinner is served."
'"Young fellow," says Maingon, "you don't understand."
'"Pig!" says Boney, and worse.
'"They were doing very well when I left," I said. "But I'm not."
'"Madeira," says he. "Not so good as some I have drunk."
'"Undoubtedly American," Talleyrand goes on. "You would gain
something if you returned the ship--with a message of fraternal
'"A good idea!" Boney answers. "One could say much in a message."
'"It might be useful," says Talleyrand. "Shall I have the message
'"But that's the order to return the brig," says Boney. "Is that
'I guessed that all along,' said Puck.
'There was never a Lee to Warminghurst--
That wasn't a smuggler last and first.'
The children laughed.
'"Oh! Bless you, abbe! God bless you!" I got it out at last.
'Tell us more about Toby!' cried Una.
'Yes, and Red Jacket,' said Dan.
'Won't you tell us any more?' they both pleaded.
Will cost you a guinea,
Which you reckon too much by five shillings or ten;
But light your churchwarden
And judge it according
When I've told you the troubles of poor honest men.
As you are well aware,
We sail with tobacco for England--but then
Our own British cruisers,
They watch us come through, sirs,
And they press half a score of us poor honest men.
Or if by quick sailing
(Thick weather prevailing)
We leave them behind (as we do now and then)
We are sure of a gun from
Each frigate we run from,
Which is often destruction to poor honest men!
We tumble short-handed,
With shot-holes to plug and new canvas to bend,
Are waiting to terrify poor honest men!
Napoleon's embargo
Is laid on all cargo
Which comfort or aid to King George may intend;
And since roll, twist and leaf,
Of all comforts is chief,
They try for to steal it from poor honest men!
With no heart for fight,
We take refuge in flight,
But fire as we run, our retreat to defend,
Until our stern-chasers
Cut up her fore-braces,
And she flies off the wind from us poor honest men!
South-eastward the drift is,
And so, when we think we are making Land's End,
With half the King's Navy,
Blockading French ports against poor honest men!
But they may not quit station
(Which is our salvation),
So swiftly we stand to the Nor'ard again;
And finding the tail of
A homeward-bound convoy,
We slip past the Scillies like poor honest men.
We hand our stuff over,
Though I may not inform how we do it, nor when;
But a light on each quarter
Low down on the water
Is well understanded by poor honest men!
Even then we have dangers
From meddlesome strangers,
Who spy on our business and are not content
To take a smooth answer,
Except with a handspike ...
And they say they are murdered by poor honest men!
To be drowned or be shot
Is our natural lot,
Why should we, moreover, be hanged in the end--
After all our great pains
For to dangle in chains,
As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?
Eddi, priest of St. Wilfrid
In the chapel at Manhood End,
Ordered a midnight service
For such as cared to attend.
But the Saxons were keeping Christmas,
And the night was stormy as well.
Nobody came to service
Though Eddi rang the bell.
'Wicked weather for walking,'
'But I must go on with the service
For such as care to attend.'
The altar candles were lighted,--
An old marsh donkey came,
Bold as a guest invited,
And stared at the guttering flame.
The storm beat on at the windows,
The water splashed on the floor,
And a wet yoke-weary bullock
Pushed in through the open door.
'How do I know what is greatest,
How do I know what is least?
That is My Father's business,'
Said Eddi, Wilfrid's priest.
'But, three are gathered together--
Listen to me and attend.
I bring good news, my brethren!'
And he told the Ox of a manger
And a stall in Bethlehem,
And he spoke to the Ass of a Rider
That rode to Jerusalem.
They steamed and dripped in the chancel,
They listened and never stirred,
While, just as though they were Bishops,
Eddi preached them The Word.
Till the gale blew off on the marshes
And the windows showed the day,
And the Ox and the Ass together
Wheeled and clattered away.
And when the Saxons mocked him,
'I dare not shut His chapel
On such as care to attend.'
'Then I'll run down street and tell her.' Una darted off.
'Thank you, Miss Una. Would you like to see how we're mendin' the
Dan hopped up, and saw young Sam lying on his stomach in a most
'Is that the lady who practises the organ?' she whispered.
'Go and meet him,' said Puck's voice behind the font. 'It's only
'Wilfrid who?' said Dan. 'You come along too.'
'Are you alone?' he asked.
'Puck's here, of course,' said Una. 'Do you know him?'
'Be welcome,' said he. 'Be very welcome.'
'Welcome to you also, O Prince of the Church,' Puck replied. The
Coline._ The children always called it Panama Corner.
'Tell him he mustn't,' said Puck, quite seriously.
'I beg your pardon,' Dan stammered--very angry with Puck.
arm-chair for him to sit on.
The organ played softly. 'What does that music say?' he asked.
'Whales?' said the Archbishop quickly.
'Yes--"O ye whales, and all that move in the waters,"' Una
hummed--'"Bless ye the Lord"--it sounds like a wave turning over,
'No--but we've seen seals--at Brighton.'
'Yes--yess; if the South Saxons did not convert me,' said the
'What did you do?' Dan asked.
'But not the only time you were wrecked, was it?' said Dan.
'Alas, no! On sea and land my life seems to have been one long
'Oh, the seals! I beg your pardon. They are the important things.
'Why did they kill themselves?' Una asked, her chin in her hand.
'I dare say you would, and I really _could_ run in those days.
'And was it?' Dan asked.
'"By no means," I answered. "I want _you_."
'"Augh! Augh!" said Padda, and put up his head to be scratched.
'Eddi was really shocked. I thought it was bad taste myself.
'What for?' said Dan.
before--about Eddi running away if he found me on a sandbank, you
beautifully patient with them.
'"You've been a long time winding us, my son," said Meon. "Now
fish--fish for all our lives. We're starving, Padda."
'"You _said_ he was a child of the Devil!" Meon laughed.
'"And now, my son," I said to Meon, "shall I baptize thee?"
'Good old Padda!' murmured Dan.
'Was Padda baptized too?' Una asked.
He rose, and his gold-embroidered sleeves rustled thickly.
The organ clacked and took deep breaths.
'There is no other tongue,' the Archbishop answered.
'Oh, what a miracle of a voice!' said the Archbishop.
'Dies Irae, dies illa
Solvet saeclum in favilla
The Archbishop caught his breath and moved forward.
The music carried on by itself a while.
'Tuba mirum spargens sonum
Per sepulchra regionum.'
'Coget omnes ante thronum.'
'What are you doing that for?' Dan said behind her. 'You spoke so
''Tisn't. It's the part you like best,' Dan grunted.
'Recordare Jesu pie,
Quod sum causa Tuae viae,
Ne me perdas illa die!'
There was no more. They moved out into the centre-aisle.
Shove off from the wharf-edge! Steady!
Watch for a smooth! Give way!
If she feels the lop already
She'll stand on her head in the bay.
It's ebb--it's dusk--it's blowing,
The shoals are a mile of white,
But (snatch her along!) we're going
To find our master to-night.
For we hold that in all disaster
Of shipwreck, storm, or sword,
A man must stand by his master
When once he has pledged his word!
Raging seas have we rowed in,
But we seldom saw them thus;
Our master is angry with Odin--
Odin is angry with us!
Heavy odds have we taken,
But never before such odds.
The Gods know they are forsaken,
We must risk the wrath of the Gods!
Over the crest she flies from,
Into its hollow she drops,
Crouches and clears her eyes from
The wind-torn breaker-tops,
Ere out on the shrieking shoulder
Of a hill-high surge she drives.
Meet her! Meet her and hold her!
Pull for your scoundrel lives!
The thunders bellow and clamour
The harm that they mean to do;
There goes Thor's own Hammer
Cracking the dark in two!
Close! But the blow has missed her,
Here comes the wind of the blow!
Row or the squall'll twist her
Broadside on to it!--_Row!_
We are not here for a jest--
For wager, warfare, or plunder,
Or to put your power to test.
This work is none of our wishing--
We would stay at home if we might--
But our master is wrecked out fishing,
We go to find him to-night.
For we hold that in all disaster--
As the Gods Themselves have said--
A man must stand by his master
Till one of the two is dead.
That is our way of thinking,
Now you can do as you will,
While we try to save her from sinking,
And hold her head to it still.
Bale her and keep her moving,
Or she'll break her back in the trough ...
Who said the weather's improving,
Or the swells are taking off?
Sodden, and chafed and aching,
Gone in the loins and knees--
No matter--the day is breaking,
And there's far less weight to the seas!
Up mast, and finish baling--
In oars, and out with the mead--
The rest will be two-reef sailing ...
That was a night indeed!
But we hold that in all disaster
(And faith, we have found it true!)
If only you stand by your master,
The Gods will stand by you!
To the Heavens above us
O look and behold
The Planets that love us
All harnessed in gold!
What chariots, what horses,
Against us shall bide
While the Stars in their courses
Do fight on our side?
All thought, all desires,
That are under the sun,
Are one with their fires,
As we also are one;
All matter, all spirit,
All fashion, all frame,
Receive and inherit
Their strength from the same.
(Oh, man that deniest
All power save thine own,
Their power in the highest
Is mightily shown.
Not less in the lowest
That power is made clear.
Oh, man, if thou knowest,
What treasure is here!)
Earth quakes in her throes
And we wonder for why!
But the blind planet knows
When her ruler is nigh;
And, attuned since Creation,
To perfect accord,
She thrills in her station
And yearns to her Lord.
The waters have risen,
The springs are unbound--
The floods break their prison,
And ravin around.
No rampart withstands 'em,
Their fury will last,
Till the Sign that commands 'em
Sinks low or swings past.
Through abysses unproven,
And gulfs beyond thought,
Our portion is woven,
Our burden is brought.
Yet They that prepare it,
Whose Nature we share,
Make us who must bear it
Well able to bear.
Though terrors o'ertake us
We'll not be afraid,
No power can unmake us
Save that which has made.
Nor yet beyond reason
Nor hope shall we fall--
All things have their season,
And Mercy crowns all.
Then, doubt not, ye fearful--
Up, heart, and be cheerful,
And lustily sing:--
_What chariots, what horses,
Against us shall bide
While the Stars in their courses
Do fight on our side?_
'And what d'you think of _that_?' said Puck solemnly to Dan.
'I don't know,' he answered. 'It sounds like lessons.'
'Wrong, Nick,' said Puck. ''Tis a singular bright star in Virgo,
Mr. Culpeper snorted contemptuously.
A rat ran between Middenboro's feet, and the old pony stamped.
'Right,' said Puck. 'No fool like an old fool.'
Mr. Culpeper wrapped his cloak round him and sat still while the
children stared at the Great Bear on the hill-top.
'Give him time,' Puck whispered behind his hand. 'He turns like a
'Mark also, Nick,' said Puck, 'that we are not your College of
'To be plain and in order with you, I was shot in the chest while
'Who was that?' said Puck suddenly. 'Zack Tutshom?'
'No, Jack Marget,' said Mr. Culpeper.
comforted me in my distress. I could not have done less; and I
'What's a plague-stone?' Dan whispered.
'"Oh, sir," she says, "are you a physician? We have none."
'What were the parson's children called?' said Una.
'Then look at it now,' said Puck, and pointed to the chickens'
precious hens.
'That?' said Dan and Una, and stared, and stared, and stared.
Mr. Culpeper made impatient noises in his throat and went on.
'And your sick people in the meantime?' Puck demanded.
'We persuaded them on the north side of the street to lie out in
'At night? Were you not horribly frightened?' said Puck.
'Says he heavily enough, "Watchman, what of the night?"
'"Pray to Him then," says he. "I forgot Him too this summer."
'He meant God, whom he always bitterly accused himself of having
'What were they?' said Dan.
'White brandy rectified, camphor, cardamoms, ginger, two sorts of
'Whew!' said Puck. 'Waters you call 'em!'
'What was plain?' said Una.
'Did Mars really say all that?' Una whispered.
'Yes, and twice so much as that to any one who had ears to hear.
'"Oh, mad, stark mad!" says he, and wrings his hands.
'And how did poor stuttering Jack endure it?' said Puck.
'Mine?--simple, forsooth?' said Mr. Culpeper.
Mr. Culpeper wriggled uneasily.
'Is it all right?' Una called.
'Come on! We must get those two twins' names,' said Una, and they
Excellent herbs had our fathers of old--
Excellent herbs to ease their pain--
(Almost singing themselves they run)
Vervain, Dittany, Call-me-to-you--
Anything green that grew out of the mould
Was an excellent herb to our fathers of old.
Wonderful tales had our fathers of old--
Wonderful tales of the herbs and the stars--
Basil and Rocket belonged to Mars.
Pat as a sum in division it goes--
(Every plant had a star bespoke)--
Who but Venus should govern the Rose?
Simply and gravely the facts are told
In the wonderful books of our fathers of old.
Wonderful little, when all is said,
Wonderful little our fathers knew.
Half their remedies cured you dead--
Most of their teaching was quite untrue--
'Look at the stars when a patient is ill,
(Dirt has nothing to do with disease,)
Bleed and blister as much as you will,
Blister and bleed him as oft as you please.'
Whence enormous and manifold
Errors were made by our fathers of old.
Yet when the sickness was sore in the land,
And neither planet nor herb assuaged,
They took their lives in their lancet-hand
And, oh, what a wonderful war they waged!
Yes, when the crosses were chalked on the door--
Yes, when the terrible dead-cart rolled,
Excellent courage our fathers bore--
Excellent heart had our fathers of old.
None too learned, but nobly bold
Into the fight went our fathers of old.
If it be certain, as Galen says,
And sage Hippocrates holds as much--
'That those afflicted by doubts and dismays
Are mightily helped by a dead man's touch,'
Then, be good to us, stars above!
Then, be good to us, herbs below!
We are afflicted by what we can prove;
We are distracted by what we know--
Down from your heaven or up from your mould,
Send us the hearts of our fathers of old!
One man in a thousand, Solomon says,
Will stick more close than a brother.
And it's worth while seeking him half your days
If you find him before the other.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine depend
On what the world sees in you,
But the Thousandth Man will stand your friend
With the whole round world agin you.
'Tis neither promise nor prayer nor show
Will settle the finding for 'ee.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em go
By your looks or your acts or your glory.
But if he finds you and you find him,
The rest of the world don't matter;
For the Thousandth Man will sink or swim
With you in any water.
You can use his purse with no more shame
Than he uses yours for his spendings;
And laugh and mention it just the same
As though there had been no lendings.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em call
For silver and gold in their dealings;
But the Thousandth Man he's worth 'em all,
Because you can show him your feelings!
His wrong's your wrong, and his right's your right,
In season or out of season.
Stand up and back it in all men's sight--
With _that_ for your only reason!
Nine hundred and ninety-nine can't bide
The shame or mocking or laughter,
But the Thousandth Man will stand by your side
To the gallows-foot--and after!
Dan and Una threw themselves off the woodlump almost under black
'I believe Sailor knows,' Dan whispered to Una.
'Look _out_!' cried Una, jumping forward. 'He'll see you, Puck!'
'Me and Mus' Robin are pretty middlin' well acquainted,' the man
answered with a smile that made them forget all about walruses.
'This is Simon Cheyneys,' Puck began, and cleared his throat.
'But let me tell you, Mus' Robin,' he pleaded.
'I've heard the tale. Tell the children here. Look, Dan! Look,
'I do. But why are you so sure, little maid?'
'Because--because he doesn't look like it,' said Una stoutly.
'"_And_ ruled the Devon seas,"' Una went on. 'That's what I was
thinking--if you don't mind.'
Simon Cheyneys seemed to mind very much indeed, for he swelled in
'I beg your pardon,' said Dan. 'I'm sorry.'
'What did your Uncle want you drowned for?' said Una.
'That was only his fashion of say-so, same as Mus' Robin. I'd a
foolishness in my head that ships could be builded out of iron.
'What was the fetchin' trade?' Dan interrupted.
'What happened to the crew?' said Una.
'Was Sir Francis Drake very much pleased?'
'"Nex' time you bring me anything," says Frankie, "you bring me
'Of course you didn't,' said Una. 'Oh, Simon, we _do_ like you!'
'Did Sir Francis mock you?' Dan asked.
nodded.
 See 'Dymchurch Flit' in _Puck of Pook's Hill_.
'"And if I'm not?" he says.
'"Why, 'tis one you gived him," I says.
'Him and me puzzled over that talk plenty. It sticked in his mind
'"The Spanisher's crowdin' down on us middlin' quick," I says.
'"Till my iron ships sailed dry land," I says.
everything?" he asks after a while.
'"No. What water comes aboard is too wet as 'tis," I says. "The
Spanisher's going about."
'He knowed I did, so I only nodded, and he nodded back again.
'"Be you hit anywhere to signify?" he says. "Come over to me."
'Why? What had happened?' cried Dan and Una together.
'The rail had jarred me in here like.' Simon reached behind him
'"Down-wind amongst the Dons--months ago," says my Aunt.
'"When can I go after 'en?" I says.
'"What?" I says. "And you the only one that beleft in 'em!"
'Didn't you ever see Sir Francis Drake again?' Dan asked.
'But how did you go? You haven't told us,' said Una.
'"Lay alongside, you!" he says. "We'll take that all."
'"Ay, but I don't," I says, and I slacked nothing.
'"Oh, Mus' Drake! Mus' Drake," I calls up.
'"Here's a friend that sticketh closer than a brother!" he says.
"I know," she says. "That's why I be come."
'"But here's our ship all ready and swept," I says.
'"She offered it," said Frankie, laughing.
occupations we went acrost to that Bridport hoy, and left him.
'But Frankie was gentle-born, d'ye see, and that sort they never
overlook any folks' dues.
'We've got the stick to rights now! She've been a whole hatful o'
'Cattiwow, what are you going to do with it?' said Dan, as they
straddled the thin part.
Old Horn to All Atlantic said:
'Now where did Frankie learn his trade?
For he ran me down with a three-reef mains'le.'
(_All round the Horn!_)
Atlantic answered:--'Not from me!
You'd better ask the cold North Sea,
For he ran me down under all plain canvas.'
(_All round the Horn!_)
The North Sea answered:--'He's my man,
For he came to me when he began--
Frankie Drake in an open coaster.'
(_All round the Sands!_)
'I caught him young and I used him sore,
So you never shall startle Frankie more,
Without capsizing Earth and her waters.
(_All round the Sands!_)
'I did not favour him at all,
I made him pull and I made him haul--
And stand his trick with the common sailors.
(_All round the Sands!_)
'I froze him stiff and I fogged him blind,
And kicked him home with his road to find
By what he could see of a three-day snow-storm.
(_All round the Sands!_)
'I learned him his trade o' winter nights,
'Twixt Mardyk Fort and Dunkirk lights
On a five-knot tide with the forts a-firing.
(_All round the Sands!_)
'Before his beard began to shoot,
I showed him the length of the Spaniard's foot--
And I reckon he clapped the boot on it later.
(_All round the Sands!_)
'If there's a risk which you can make
That's worse than he was used to take
Nigh every week in the way of his business;
(_All round the Sands!_)
'If there's a trick that you can try
Which he hasn't met in time gone by,
Not once or twice, but ten times over;
(_All round the Sands!_)
'If you can teach him aught that's new,
I'll give you Bruges and Niewport too,
And the ten tall churches that stand between 'em.'
_Storm along my gallant Captains!_
(_All round the Horn!_)
About the time that taverns shut
And men can buy no beer,
Two lads went up by the keepers' hut
To steal Lord Pelham's deer.
Night and the liquor was in their heads--
They laughed and talked no bounds,
Till they waked the keepers on their beds,
And the keepers loosed the hounds.
They had killed a hart, they had killed a hind,
Ready to carry away,
When they heard a whimper down the wind
And they heard a bloodhound bay.
They took and ran across the fern,
Their crossbows in their hand,
Till they met a man with a green lantern
That called and bade 'em stand.
'What are ye doing, O Flesh and Blood,
And what's your foolish will,
That you must break into Minepit Wood
And wake the Folk of the Hill?'
'Oh, we've broke into Lord Pelham's park,
And killed Lord Pelham's deer,
And if ever you heard a little dog bark
You'll know why we come here!
'We ask you let us go our way,
As fast as we can flee,
For if ever you heard a bloodhound bay,
You'll know how pressed we be.'
'Oh, lay your crossbows on the bank
And drop the knife from your hand,
And though the hounds are at your flank
I'll save you where you stand!'
They laid their crossbows on the bank
They threw their knives in the wood,
And the ground before them opened and sank
And saved 'em where they stood.
'Oh, what's the roaring in our ears
'Oh, that is just how things appears
According as they come.'
'What are the stars before our eyes
That strike us well-nigh blind?'
'Oh, that is just how things arise
According as you find.'
'And why's our bed so hard to the bones
Excepting where it's cold?'
'Oh, that's because it is precious stones
Excepting where 'tis gold.'
'Think it over as you stand,
For I tell you without fail,
If you haven't got into Fairyland
You're not in Lewes Gaol.'
All night long they thought of it,
And, come the dawn, they saw
They'd tumbled into a great old pit,
At the bottom of Minepit Shaw.
And the keepers' hound had followed 'em close
And broke her neck in the fall;
So they picked up their knives and their crossbows
And buried the dog. That's all.
But whether the man was a poacher too
Or a Pharisee so bold--
I reckon there's more things told than are true,
And more things true than are told.
'In my time this sort of tree bore heavier fruit.' Sir Richard
Dalyngridge reined up his grey horse, Swallow, in the ride behind
 This is the Norman knight they met the year before in _Puck of
'Sleeper? A _dormeuse_ do you say?'
'Yes, a dormouse, sir.'
'I understand. I passed a woodman on the low grounds. Come!'
'That!' Sir Richard jerked his head toward the dangling owls.
'I--I cannot abide to hear their widows screech. But why am I on
'D'you mean William Rufus?' said Dan.
'What happened to the knight?' Dan asked.
'And did you see him all bloody?' Dan continued.
'Why did the King want to hunt so particularly?' Una demanded.
'You ought to see the bluebells there in Spring!' said Una.
'But King Harold was killed at Hastings,' said Una.
A hoarse shout answered them across the bare woods.
'That's old Hobden,' said Una.
'He pulled a writing from his scrip, and Hugh coming up, read it.
'"What a plague conjuration's here?" said Hugh, turning it over.
 See 'Old Men at Pevensey' in _Puck of Pook's Hill_.
'"How came your beaters to shout threats against me?" said he.
'"He is Rahere's man," said I.
'"Rahere's?" said Henry. "Has my fool a fool?"
'What did the King say?' cried Dan.
'When the deer broke, we were pleased that the King shot from the
'"Wearied, Hugh?" said I.
'I waited then, and I thought I heard him sob.'
'But why?' said Una. 'I don't understand.'
'"He is busy," said Rahere, "confirming a new miracle."
"Well wist Wal-wist where lay his fortune
When that he fawned on the King for his crozier,"
'We looked at the King, but he smiled.
'De Aquila crept forward. He walked about the man and swallowed.
'"Bones of the Saints!" said he, staring.
'"Many a stray shot goes too well home," said Rahere.
'"And it is certain," said Hugh, "that"--he pointed to the old
man--"Harold was forced to make his promise to the Great Duke."
'"Was it so close a fight, then?" said Henry.
"How if he _does_ see?" said Rahere.
'"A right mock and a just shame!" said William of Exeter.
'"No man mocks thee. Who here judges this man? Henry of
'Hugh heaved the old man up and he smiled.
'Dead?' said Una, turning up a white face in the dusk.
'My! My!' said he. 'Have you scratted your face, Miss Una?'
They laughed a good deal while he told them the tale.
'Oh, what about the sleeper you promised to show us?' Dan cried.
_Our Lord Who did the Ox command
To kneel to Judah's King,
He binds His frost upon the land
To ripen it for Spring--
To ripen it for Spring, good sirs,
According to His word;
Which well must be as ye can see--
And who shall judge the Lord?_
_When we poor fenmen skate the ice
Or shiver on the wold,
We hear the cry of a single tree
That breaks her heart in the cold--
That breaks her heart in the cold, good sirs,
And rendeth by the board;
Which well must be as ye can see--
And who shall judge the Lord?_
_Her wood is crazed and little worth
Excepting as to burn,
That we may warm and make our mirth
Until the Spring return--
Until the Spring return, good sirs,
When people walk abroad;
Which well must be as ye can see--
And who shall judge the Lord?_
_God bless the master of this house,
And all that sleep therein!
And guard the fens from pirate folk,
And keep us all from sin,
To walk in honesty, good sirs,
Of thought and deed and word!
Which shall befriend our latter end--
And who shall judge the Lord?_
_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _EDINBURGH_.