A WONDERFUL SHIP
"I SAW a ship a-sailing,
A-sailing on the sea;
And it was full of pretty things
For baby and for me."
"Hurrah!" cried Puss, Junior, "A sailor's life is the life for me." The good ship was at the dock, and her crew of sailor boys were ready to cast off the mooring lines. Puss, Junior, had been promised a sailor-suit as soon as the ship's tailor had the time to make it.
Just then the little woman who hung her baby's cradle on the willow tree by the old mill, came walking down to the dock.
"Are you going, too?" asked Puss, helping her with the cradle, for she had walked a long way and was very tired.
"Yes, indeed," she replied, "because it's full of pretty things for baby and for me."
"How jolly!" cried Puss, dancing about on his toes. "We'll have a fine trip."
"That's what the 'rusty, dusty' miller said," cried the baby's mother. "He told me this morning when I put the cradle in the 'Rock-a-by' willow tree that the ship was sailing to-day and that they needed a cook; so I'm going to ask the Captain if I may cook and bake for you all. I know how to make the nicest cookies you ever ate. You just wait and see what nice things we will have to eat."
Then Puss helped her over the gang-plank, for the crew was busy loading the good ship with all kinds of things.
Pretty soon the miller came running down the dock. "Here is a sack of flour," he panted, "I thought you might need some for muffins."
"Isn't that fine?" said Puss, leaning over the rail. "There's nothing like having plenty of food aboard in case the voyage is a long one."
"I don't know where we are bound," said the baby's mother, "but baby will like it, I'm sure. One can 'rock-a-by baby' on the sea as well as on the old willow tree."
"I heard," said the 'rusty, dusty' miller, as he laid the heavy sack of flour on the deck, and wiped the perspiration from his forehead, "that
"There were sweetmeats in the cabin,
And apples in the hold;
The sails were made of silk,
And the masts were made of gold."
"Why, so they are," cried Puss, gazing up at the beautiful tall shining masts. "They are of gold, of course they are. Look, baby," he cried, "see the gold masts."
"He's too young to know whether they are made of gold or good old oak," said his mother, "but we'll teach him to be a good sailor, won't we, Puss, dear?"