There'll be a band, I know there will, just at the incline of the hill; and many folk will loiter there and clap, and stamp, and shout and stare. But little children will stand dumb, so fascinated by the drum. Ah! now guitar and flute are still—and crowds begin to climb the hill. What fun it is! Here, stalls begin. Bright paper hats and masks that grin. "Fevvers and ticklers. Buy them, boys. And golliwogs, and jumping toys." Up, up, it goes, this noisy stream of merrymakers. "Best ice-cream!" The sun's so hot, and there's no shade. "Your fortune, lady! Lemonade!" Up, up, they go. The noises swell, but why all laugh no one can tell. The roundabout begins to play and every heart keeps holiday. And as these folk swarm up the hill, it's "Two a penny, try your skill. Such handsome prizes. Come on, try. Fine fevvers, ticklers. Buy, boys, buy!" I vowed I'd never go again, but in this reminiscent strain, I see it all—and I just long to mingle with that happy throng!
THE SEA OF LIFE
"He was the first that ever burst into that silent sea." I read this phrase in childhood's days—that poet wrote for me. For now I know we all do go like mariners in life, on seas unknown and all alone 'mid rocks of fear and strife. We bend our sails to meet Life's gales. O untried is the breeze. Our boat is slight and dark the night, uncharted are Life's seas. And it's the truth, we all, forsooth, have little ships to sail. And oft we think we'll surely sink beneath the furious gale. For each one knows as on he goes the way is rough and dim. To left or right, no help in sight, except it come from Him. Sailors are we and look to Thee, O Captain of Life's crew, for guidance kind, though strong the wind, for guidance safe and true. Then without fear; with right good cheer, although the skies be dark, harbour in sight, towards the light, we'll steer Life's sea-tossed bark.
THE CARAVAN SETS FORTH
Motor-cars and one-horsed carts, omnibuses, heavy vans—one expects such vehicles, they fit a city's plans. On a throbbing city street, who on earth would think to see a caravan in brave attire? I did—ah, lucky me! Purring down the street it came, newly painted, wheels and all; window-sashes ivory white, red the roof and green each wall. Seemed to me it laughed with joy, window-eyes were shining bright. Shouted at me as it passed, "I'll sleep 'neath stars to-night." "City streets I'll leave behind, country lanes are calling now. Blackbird's song is luring me to an apple bough. I'm a happy caravan, all my curtains have fresh frills. I'm going where the cool green grass is starred with daffodils."
MARCH, THE LION
When Nursie used to say to me, "The month of March comes roaringly, just like a lion, seeking prey, but like a lamb it skips away"; when Nursie said this frightful thing, then I to her would tightly cling, and hold my breath and shut my eyes. Oh! fearsome March in lion's guise. I'd put my head upon her lap, my heart would go thud-thud, trip-trap, because I heard upon the stair a stealthy pit-a-pat. Beware! Between my fingers I would peep, just as a tawny tail would sweep around the nursery's white door. Oh! listen, how March Lions roar. But soon I overcame my fear—I longed to see the lamb appear. I left her lap, I stood upright, I watched that beast with all my might; and, sure enough, as Nurse had said, it changed its skin and changed its head, and went away, squeezed through the jamb—a little, gentle, snowy lamb!
PLAY THE GAME
These are the cards Life dealt to you, and you must play the game. The cards are weak, that may be true, but who is there to blame? You cannot say "a mis-deal, Life!" The game you have to play. 'Tis uphill work; you're tired of strife; yet play the game, I say. Just play the game, don't fume nor fret; play each card one by one. You never know, perhaps you'll get a trick by set of sun. No matter what the game may be, if bridge or just bezique, whoever heard such futile plea: "My cards are far too weak." The other folk would scoff and jeer, and cry out: "Play the game." And from these facts you'll see quite clear that life is much the same. For Fate, the dealer, does not care what cards you get, or I. The poorest ones may be our share; to play the game, let's try. And though we lose, we still can smile—just to have played has been worth while.