“Go on, go on!” cried the students.
“The feathered songsters seek in vain,
Their food on hill and heather,
And hungry children toil with pain,
Their daily food to gather.”
“They must have it, they must have it!” cried one and all, and many plates piled up with good things were set before the children, but Barty would not be tempted, and the children sang on.
“We wish you health and pleasures rare,
And may you, peace possessing,
Learn that who trusts the good God’s care
Will ever find a blessing.”