But strong it grew and stronger still,
As every wrinkle seemed to fill;
And when at last it bounded clear,
And started on its wild career,
A rooted stump and garden gate,
It carried off as special freight.

Though all the Brownies went, a part
Were not in proper shape to start;
Arrangements hardly were complete,
Some wanted room and more a seat,
While some in acrobatic style
Must put their trust in toes awhile.
But Brownies are not hard to please,
And soon they rested at their ease;
Some found support, both safe and strong,
Upon the gate that went along,
By some the stump was utilized,
And furnished seats they highly prized.
Now, as they rose they ran afoul
Of screaming hawk and hooting owl,
And flitting bats that hooked their wings
At once around the ropes and strings,

As though content to there abide
And take the chances of the ride.
On passing through a heavy cloud,
One thus addressed the moistened crowd:
"Although the earth, from which we rise,
Now many miles below us lies,
To sharpest eye, strain as it may,
The moon looks just as far away."
"The earth is good enough for me!"

Another said, "with grassy lea;
And shady groves, of songsters full.—
Will some one give the valve a pull?"
And soon they all were well content,
To start upon a mild descent.
But once the gas commenced to go,
They lost the power to check the flow;
The more they tried control to gain,
The more it seemed to rush amain.
Then some began to
wring their hands,
And more to volunteer
commands;
While some were
craning out to view
What part of earth their
wreck would strew,
A marshy plain, a rocky
shore,
Or ocean with its sullen
roar.


It happened as they neared the ground,
A rushing gale was sweeping round,
That caught and carried them with speed
Across the forest and the mead.
Then lively catching might be seen
At cedar tops and branches
green;
While still the stump behind
them swung,
On this it caught, to that it
hung,
And, as an anchor, played a
part

They little thought of at the start.
At length, in spite of sweeping blast,
Some friendly branches held them fast:
And then, descending, safe and sound,
The daring Brownies reached the ground
But in the tree-top on the hill
The old balloon is hanging still,
And saves the farmers on the plain
From placing scare-crows in their grain.