But when "deuce set!" the scorer cried,
Applause would ring on every side.
At times so hot the contest grew,
Established laws aside they threw,
And in the game where four should stand,
At least a dozen took a hand.
Some tangled in the netting lay
And some from base-lines strayed away.
Some hit the ball when out of place
Or scrambled through unlawful space.
But still no game was forced to halt
Because of this or greater fault.
And there they sported on the lawn
Until the ruddy streaks of dawn
Gave warning that the day was near,
And Brownies all must disappear.
THE BROWNIES' GOOD WORK.
| One time, while Brownies passed around An honest farmer's piece of ground, They paused to view the garden fair And fields of grain that needed care. "My friends," said one who often spoke About the ways of human folk, |
|
"Now here's a case in point, I claim, Where neighbors scarce deserve the name: This farmer on his back is laid With broken ribs and shoulder-blade, Received, I hear, some weeks ago; While at the village here below, He checked a running team, to save Some children from an early grave. Now overripe his harvest stands In waiting for the reaper's hands; The piece of wheat we lately passed Is shelling out at every blast. |