Journeys Through Bookland Volume Iii Part 6

The sea was wet as wet could be, The sands were dry as dry.

You could not see a cloud, because No cloud was in the sky; No birds were flying overhead-- There were no birds to fly.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER]

The Walrus and the Carpenter Were walking close at hand; They wept like anything to see Such quant.i.ties of sand: "If this were only cleared away,"

They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops Swept it for half a year, Do you suppose," the Walrus said, "That they could get it clear?"

"I doubt it," said the Carpenter, And shed a bitter tear.

"Oysters, come and walk with us!"

The Walrus did beseech.

"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk, Along the briny beach; We cannot do with more than four, To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him, But never a word he said: The eldest Oyster winked his eye, And shook his heavy head-- Meaning to say he did not choose To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up, All eager for the treat: Their coats were brushed, their faces washed, Their shoes were clean and neat-- And this was odd, because, you know, They hadn't any feet.

Four others Oysters followed them, And yet another four; And thick and fast they came at last, And more, and more, and more-- All hopping through the frothy waves, And scrambling to the sh.o.r.e.

The Walrus and the Carpenter Walked on a mile or so, And then they rested on a rock, Conveniently low: And all the little Oysters stood And waited in a row.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE LITTLE OYSTERS WAITED]

"The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things: Of shoes--and ships--and sealing wax-- Of cabbages--and kings-- And why the sea is boiling hot-- And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried, "Before we have our chat; For some of us are out of breath, And all of us are fat!"

"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.

They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said, "Is what we chiefly need: Pepper and vinegar besides Are very good indeed-- Now if you're ready, Oysters dear, We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried, Turning a little blue.

"After such kindness, that would be A dismal thing to do!"

"The night is fine," the Walrus said, "Do you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!

And you are very nice!"

The Carpenter said nothing but "Cut us another slice: I wish you were not quite so deaf-- I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said, "To play them such a trick, After we've brought them out so far, And made them trot so quick!"

The Carpenter said nothing but "The b.u.t.ter's spread too thick!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: I DEEPLY SYMPATHIZE]

"I weep for you," the Walrus said: "I deeply sympathize."

With sobs and tears he sorted out Those of the largest size, Holding his pocket-handkerchief Before his streaming eyes.

"Oh, Oysters," said the Carpenter, "You've had a pleasant run!

Shall we be trotting home again?"

But answer came there none-- And this was scarcely odd, because They'd eaten every one.

BETH GELERT

By WILLIAM E. SPENCER

The spearmen heard the bugle sound, And cheerily smiled the morn; And many a brach, and many a hound, Obeyed Llewelyn's horn.

And still he blew a louder blast, And gave a l.u.s.tier cheer, "Come, Gelert, come, wert never last Llewelyn's horn to hear.

"O, where does faithful Gelert roam, The flower of all his race; So true, so brave,--a lamb at home, A lion in the chase?"

In sooth, he was a peerless hound, The gift of royal John; But now no Gelert could be found And all the chase rode on.

That day Llewelyn little loved The chase of hart and hare; And scant and small the booty proved, For Gelert was not there.

Unpleased, Llewelyn homeward hied, When, near the portal seat, His truant Gelert he espied, Bounding his lord to greet.

But when he gained his castle door, Aghast the chieftain stood; The hound all o'er was smeared with gore; His lips, his fangs, ran blood.

Llewelyn gazed with fierce surprise; Unused such looks to meet, His favorite checked his joyful guise, And crouched, and licked his feet.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE DEATH OF GELERT]

Onward, in haste, Llewelyn pa.s.sed, And on went Gelert, too; And still, where'er his eyes he cast, Fresh blood-gouts shocked his view.

O'erturned his infant's bed he found, With blood-stained covert rent; And all around the walls and ground With recent blood besprent.

He called his child,--no voice replied,-- He searched with terror wild; Blood, blood he found on every side, But nowhere found his child.

"h.e.l.l-hound! my child's by thee devoured,"

The frantic father cried; And to the hilt his vengeful sword He plunged in Gelert's side.

Aroused by Gelert's dying yell, Some slumberer wakened nigh; What words the parent's joy could tell To hear his infant's cry!

Concealed beneath a tumbled heap His hurried search had missed, All glowing from his rosy sleep, The cherub boy he kissed.

Nor scathe had he, nor harm, nor dread, But, the same couch beneath, Lay a gaunt wolf, all torn and dead, Tremendous still in death.

Ah, what was then Llewelyn's pain!

For now the truth was clear; His gallant hound the wolf had slain To save Llewelyn's heir.

ROBINSON CRUSOE