The Brownies: Their Book

by Palmer Cox

For now the ship to ruin flew,
As though it felt its work was through,
And soon it stranded, "pitch and toss,"
Upon the rocks, a total loss.
The masts and spars went by the board—
The hull was shivered like a gourd!
But yet, on broken plank and rail,
On splintered spars and bits of sail
That strewed for miles the rugged strand,
The Brownies safely reached the land.

Now, Brownies lack the power, 'tis said,
Of making twice what once they've made;
So all their efforts were in vain
To build and launch the ship again;—
And on that island, roaming 'round,
That Brownie band for years was found.

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THE BROWNIES' RETURN.

Once while the Brownies lay at ease
About the roots of rugged trees,
And listened to the dreary moan
Of tides around their island lone
Said one: "My friends, unhappy here,
We spend our days from year to year
We're cornered in, and hardly boast
A run of twenty leagues at most
You all remember well, I ween,
The night we reached this island green,
When flocks of fowl around us wailed,
And followed till their pinions failed.
And still our ship at every wave
To sharks a creaking promise gave,
Then spilled us out in breakers white,
To gain the land as best we might.
Since then how oft we've tried in vain
To reach our native haunts again,
Where roaming freely, unconfined,
Would better suit our roving mind.
"To-night, while wandering by the sea
A novel scheme occurred to me,
As I beheld in groups and rows
The weary fowl in deep repose.
They sat as motionless as though
The life had left them years ago.
The albatross and crane are there,
The loon, the gull, and gannet rare.
An easy task for us to creep
Around the fowl, while fast asleep.
And at a given signal spring
Aboard, before they spread a wing,
And trust to them to bear us o'er.
In safety to our native shore."
Another spoke: "I never yet
Have shunned a risk that others met,
But here uncommon dangers lie,
Suppose the fowl should seaward fly,
And never landing, course about,
And drop us, when their wings gave out?"
To shallow schemes that will not bring
A modest risk, let cowards cling!
The first replied. "A Brownie shows
The best where dangers thickest close.
But, hear me out: by sea and land,
Their habits well I understand.
When rising first they circle wide,
As though the strength of wings they tried,
Then steering straight across the bay,
To yonder coast a visit pay.
But granting they for once should be
Inclined to strike for open sea,
The breeze that now is rising fast,
Will freshen to a whistling blast,
And landward sweeping, stronger still,
Will drive the fowl against their will."

Now at his heels, with willing feet, They followed to the fowls' retreat. 'Twas hard to scale the rugged breast Of crags, where birds took nightly rest. But some on hands, and some on knees, And more by vines or roots of trees, From shelf to shelf untiring strained, And soon the windy summit gained. With bated breath, they gathered round; They crawled with care along the ground. By this, one paused; or that, one eyed; Each chose the bird he wished to ride.