I said, “They are the orphans!”
They were. They sprang up in line. They bowed. They shouted with remarkable unison:
“Good morning, sir! Good morning, ma'am!”
We gasped. We were astounded. “Well,” said Mrs. Ulswater, “I never!”
They began to sing. They sang, in point of fact, as follows:
“ Pull for the shore, sailor!
Pull for the shore! ”
all except for one orphan, from whose rounded mouth detonated the statement, “I'm a pilgrim, I'm a stranger,” whose globular face was slapped with incredible rapidity by the girl who stood next him, at the head of the line, and who sang on imperiously, though the rest of the chorus broke down:
“ Heed not the rolling waves,
But bend to the oar.”