But soon they reached the island where
Their cousin kind had come
With greeting fair to meet them there,
And take them to his home.
His good brown horse drew wagon bright,
In which was room enough,
For better far than chaises light
Are these when roads are rough.
The good horse trotted with his load,—
The whip he did not need,
And o’er the high and rugged road
Our travellers bore with speed.
I cannot tell each charming sight
That on the dear boy’s view
Arose to fill him with delight,
For all to him was new.
Here swam a flock of gabbling geese
In waters bright and still,
Nor did the sheep the gambols cease
About the verdant hill.
The cattle from their grassy meal
Raised up a heavy eye,
And many a pig sent forth its squeal
As rolled the wagon by.
And now the house appear’d in view
That they should tarry in,—
Then barking out the house-dog flew
And out came all their kin.
They kindly welcome gave each guest,
And full refreshment brought;
Then evening came, and needful rest
Each weary traveller sought.
LITTLE LYDIA AND THE RAZOR.
“This box little Lydia may put in its place,”
Said her uncle, “for I am quite lame;
My razor is nicely shut up in its case,
Be careful, my dear, of the same.”