IN THE DEEP BLUE SEA.
BY MARGARET EYTINGE
He was a sailor old and bold,
And he had sailed the seas
For forty years and more, and bore
The marks of sun and breeze.
And now to stay at home he'd come,
Delighted with the noise,
That others much perplexed and vexed,
Of many girls and boys.
His sisters' children they, and gay
As any elfish throng,
And never tired they grew, 'tis true,
Of briny tale and song;
And this he told one night, by light
Of stars and silver moon,
And chorus all joined in with din,
But not a scrap of tune.
Oh! it was a party in the deep blue sea—
Fishing-Frog and the Whale were the givers—
One bright summer eve, and their funny finny friends
Came in shoals from the oceans and rivers.
The Skate and his wife skated gayly along,
Making all kinds of comical faces,
And the Drum-fish he drummed, and the Skipper he skipped,
And the Porgy and the Shad swam races.
Sing ri-toodle-dum and ri-toodle-dee
For the jolly old party in the deep blue sea,
Ahoy!
The Pipe-Fish invited the company to smoke,
The Lobster threw somersaults by dozens,
The Pilot-Fish escorted the Prawns and the Shrimps,
And the Crab clan, their queer-looking cousins;
The Saw-Fish and Sword-Fish of saws and swords bragged,
The Flat-Fish and Gudgeons round them flocking,
And Torpedo and the Eel (the electric) behaved
In a way that was really most shocking.
Sing ri-toodle-dum and ri-toodle-dee
For the merry old party in the deep blue sea,
Ahoy!
And they splashed, and they dashed, and they spouted and jumped,
And the Flying-Fish flew—such a wonder
And the Walking-Fish walked with his climbing friend Perch,
And the Sea-Lion roared like young thunder.
But at last, near the morn, the Whale gave a yawn,
An example the Fishing-Frog followed,
And the party was quite over when their months closed again,
For the guests, every one had been swallowed.
Sing ri-toodle-dum and ri-toodle-dee
For the jolly old party in the deep blue sea,
Ahoy!
[BOUND FOR AMERICA.]
BY MATTHEW WHITE, JUN.
The clock in the castle had just sounded forth the hour of noon. It was in the little German town of Hausewitz, and the narrow, roughly paved street that ran in front of the High School was soon filled with students, all wearing tiny green caps set jauntily on the side of the head, and seemingly stuck there with mucilage.
"Yes, Albert," one of a pair was saying, as the two strolled off homeward together, "the time has come to carry out our plan."
"It has," solemnly responded the other, who was rather a delicate-looking youth with blue eyes and yellow hair. "Now or never; but which way shall we go?"
"Oh, I'll attend to that later, if you'll only say you're ready whenever I am;" and Rudolph Schweizer looked down upon his companion (who was a few inches shorter than himself) with a sort of majestic air that he no doubt thought eminently befitting the only son of one of the first lawyers in Hausewitz.
Before Albert could reply, some friends joined them, and the subject was dropped.
Now the project about which there was this touch of mystery was no less a one than that of emigrating to America, in order to escape serving in the army. The lads had selected the United States as their destination, because they imagined that there everybody speedily became possessed of fabulous wealth, as all the tourists from that country who put up for a night or two at the Golden Grape-vine Hotel seemed to be blessed with an unlimited supply of money.
They had been cherishing the scheme for months, and from having talked it over so often it had come to assume to them the proportions of an event that had almost grown into an actuality.
"Come around this afternoon after school, Albert," called out Rudolph, as the friends separated at the market-place. And thus, quarter past four found the two in young Schweizer's room in earnest consultation.
They agreed that the whole enterprise was to be conditional, and that no risks were to be run; that is, if the boys could find no opening at Hamburg for them to work their passage on some vessel to New York, they would return to Hausewitz again, and confess to only going as far as the sea-port, saying nothing about the grander scheme they had had in view.
"You see," explained Rudolph, "we'll divide our plan into air-tight compartments, so to speak, such as they have on the steamers: the first one from here to Hamburg, and the second from there to New York; for if within two weeks, say, after our arrival out there we are not on a straight road to making our fortunes, we can close up the other compartment, and work our way back again. We'll do the thing on first-class business principles, and not in the old-fashioned runaway-boy style. Now how much can you give toward the expenses of our journey to Hamburg? We'd better reckon in dollars, so as to be sure of how much we'll have left when we get to America. The fare from here, second class—"
"But why can't we go third class?" interrupted Albert. "We don't expect to meet any of our friends on the way—or at least it is to be hoped we sha'n't—and then we'd have so much more to help us along in New York."
"All right, then, we'll reckon on third," replied Rudolph, rather impressed by the stern common-sense displayed in the other's reasoning. "But you haven't told me yet how much you have."
After a short calculation, Albert announced as the result that he had saved up about fifteen dollars.
"Good! and I have twenty," exclaimed his friend. "The fare's only five apiece, so we'll have twenty-five left over when we go aboard."
"But we've got to get something to eat, and we must sleep somewhere," put in Albert.
"Oh! it won't take much for two or three meals; and as for sleeping, why, we're sure to find a ship before night, so all we'll have to do will be to tumble into our bunks. Don't you see how nicely it all comes out?" cried Rudolph, enthusiastically. "I can almost imagine myself already walking about the New York streets, with my hands in two pockets full of money, and taking first-cabin passage back again."
"But what do you suppose the folks'll say at home here?" again interposed Albert, who, notwithstanding his readiness to fall in with all his schoolmate's propositions, now and then allowed his own private scruples to come to the surface. "Besides, I don't believe we can come back after running away from the army."
"Don't call it 'running away,'" objected Rudolph. "We're simply going to seek our fortunes like the knights of the olden time, and we prefer to do it in a free country, that's all. Now, then, to details," and during the remainder of the afternoon the two boys were busily employed in making out a list of the articles they should select from among their possessions to stow away in the moderate-sized bag, the capacity of which was to be divided between them.
Now both these lads had kind parents, besides brothers and sisters, and in a manner of their own they were each attached to their respective families; but such considerations as "domestic affections," which was what Rudolph styled his sentimental feelings on the subject, they thought should have no weight where the matter of fortune was concerned.
The all-important day of departure at length arrived, and having succeeded in smuggling the satchel safely out of the house, the two young adventurers hurried through back streets to the station, intending to set out on the 5 p.m. train for Hamburg. On reaching the passengers' waiting-room, they shoved the tell-tale bag under one of the seats, and then went outside to walk up and down in as unconcerned a manner as they could assume.
Suddenly Albert clutched his friend by the arm, and exclaimed, "Look, Rudolph! I'm perfectly sure that fellow's an American"—indicating a youth of about their own age, who was coming from the other end of the platform toward them. "I can tell by the cut of his clothes; and, yes, there's the red guide-book they all carry, under his arm. I wonder if he's on his way back to New York?"
But before very long both boys were too much absorbed in wondering why their train did not come, to bestow a second thought on anything else.
"What can be the matter?" cried Rudolph, anxiously, fearful lest they should not get off until supper-time, when they would be sure to be missed at home.
The American lad too seemed annoyed; and when the three were next brought face to face in their walk, he stopped in front of Albert, and in passable German inquired of the latter if he knew what had delayed the cars. Then they all went to the ticket office, and ascertained from the agent that an accident to an engine ahead had obstructed the track, and in consequence the Hanover and Hamburg train would not arrive at Hausewitz for a half-hour or more.
This information was rather startling to the two runaways, and Albert had made up his mind to confide in their new acquaintance, when Rudolph opened the subject by remarking that they thought of going to America shortly. One question brought on another, and by half past five, in a mixture of German and English, the whole plan of the expedition, together with its wonderful air-tight compartment system, had been poured into the attentive ear of the young American.
"Oh my! how funny!" he exclaimed in English, when he had heard all, and then he fell to laughing so long and heartily that the two German lads began to grow rather red in the face. On observing this the other restrained his merriment, and finding that his new friends were better acquainted with English than he was with German, asked if they would listen to a bit of advice, which they hastened to assure him they would be only too glad to do. "Well, then, to begin with," said the youthful republican, "my name is Edward Sharring, of New York, and I'm travelling in Europe with my father and the family, who are now in Hanover. I've been about a good deal in Germany, and have come to the conclusion that I'd rather be a Prussian officer than anything else."
Edward continued: "Why, boys, do you know what you are undertaking? Work your way on shipboard? In the first place, you'd probably have to hunt a week or two before you could find a ship that would take you; and then, oh my! the rough treatment you'd get from the mates!"
"But we're ready for all that," Rudolph ventured to interpose. "We don't expect to make our fortunes without working for them."
"Well, I must say I admire your pluck," returned the other; "but wait till you hear more. When you arrive in New York, in the course of a month or so after leaving Hamburg, what are you going to do then?"
"Go to work," promptly responded Albert.
"But at what?"
At this question both boys hesitated, and their friend suggested hod-carrying, brick-laying, loading ships, or car-driving.
Now this list was not a very attractive one, nor were these the sort of accomplishments on which the ambitious youths had reckoned. Where should they board, who would befriend them in a strange land, or what were they to do when their clothes wore out and they had no money with which to buy new?
These were pointed questions, and so sharply did the lads' foreign counsellor apply them, that at ten minutes to six Albert drew forth the satchel from its place of concealment, and Rudolph expressed his determination of becoming an officer in the German army.
Five minutes later the train came along, and after a hearty grasp of the hand to each of them, Edward Sharring stepped into a second-class carriage, and was soon whirling off to Hanover.
Luckily the would-be runaways had decided to delay purchasing their tickets until after they had left the town, so there was nothing lost by their honorable "backing out."
"You didn't count the Hausewitz station as one of the air-tight compartments, did you, Rudolph?" said Albert, as the two wended their way home to supper.
"I didn't think we'd need one so soon," replied his friend. "What a nice sort of a chap that New York fellow was, though! and to think he can't be a German officer when he wants to, and I can!"
"So can I, and will, too," added Albert; and thus it came to pass that the army of the Empire was enriched by two recruits, gained for it by a young republican from America.
[BEATING THE PARISH BOUNDS.]
This is a very ancient custom in England, and one that is particularly interesting to boys, as they have generally taken a very prominent part in it. First, it must be understood that all England is divided into parishes—a division recognized by the civil as well as the ecclesiastical law of the land. A parish is that circuit of ground, whether in the city or country, which is committed to the spiritual care of one clergyman. Now the boundaries of these parishes are very rarely defined by any law, except that of custom; and hence in most places it was and is customary once a year to make a solemn procession around the bounds of the parish.
The time appointed by the Church for this procession is one of the three days before Holy Thursday, or Ascension-day, and it had two acknowledged motives: one, to supplicate the blessing of God on the coming harvest; the other, to preserve a correct knowledge of the parish bounds and rights from one generation to another.
Before the Reformation, these processions were conducted with great pomp. The lord of the manor, carrying a large banner, and the priests, carrying crosses, led the procession, "saying or singing gospels to the growing corn." The principal men and all the boys of the village followed them, and the day ended in feasts and games, with "drinking and good cheer." After the Reformation, Queen Elizabeth ordered the custom to be continued. The curate or minister of the parish was required, at certain places, to stop and give thanks to God, and pray for His blessing on the coming harvest; and when the parish bounds had been clearly defined, the procession was to return with singing to the parish church and listen to the 104th Psalm, and such sentences as "Cursed be he which translateth (altereth) the bounds and doles of his neighbor." Izaak Walton says the great and good Bishop Hooker never by any means omitted this custom, and that during the walk he "would always drop some facetious and loving observations to the boys and young people, still inclining them to mutual kindness and love, because love thinks no evil, but covers a multitude of infirmities."
These processions were justified by the civil law in maintaining the ancient parish bounds, even if they were opposed by the owners of the property over which they beat or walked; and this necessity to keep the old track often caused curious incidents. If a canal had been cut through the bounds, or a river formed part of the line, some one must pass over it; and the lads of the parish were all so ambitious of the honor that it was usually settled by lot. If a house had been erected on the bounds, they claimed and took the right of passing through it. In a house in Buckinghamshire, still standing, the oven only is on the boundary line, and a boy is put into the recess in order to preserve its integrity. A still more comical scene occurred in London about seventy years ago, as the procession of church-wardens and an immense concourse of boys were "beating the bounds" of the famous parish of St. George, Hanover Square. The march was stopped by a nobleman's carriage standing fairly across the boundary line. The carriage was empty, waiting for its owner, who was in the opposite house. The principal church-warden, therefore—who was also a nobleman—desired the coachman to drive out of the way. "I won't," he answered; "my lord told me to wait here, and here I'll wait till his lordship tells me to move." Upon which the church-warden coolly opened the carriage door, entered it, passed out through the opposite door, and was followed by the whole procession, cads, sweeps, and scavengers.
At this time the religious character of the ceremony had been quite lost, and "beating the bounds" had become an excuse for a great deal of rudeness and excess; so that for half a century the custom fell into very general contempt and disuse. However, within the last few years it has been restored in many parishes, and with all those pleasant solemnities that made the good Bishop Hooker regard it so favorably. The clergyman in full canonicals, and the boy choristers in their white robes, singing, lead the procession, which includes now, as it has always done, every lad who can by any means procure a holiday from school or work to follow it.
And surely it is a beautiful custom. How sweet must be the voices of the young choristers singing psalms among the growing corn to Him who maketh the "sun to shine and the rains to descend upon the earth, so that it may bring forth its fruit in due season!"
BEATING THE PARISH BOUNDS.
TOWED BY A WHALE.—Drawn by J. W. Taber.