. St. Nicholas [serial]. ilethey marched, with all their might,Till they stood beneath the oak-trees spreadingshade. Swish! would go the golden sickle where the bough was seen to prickleThrough the green, with milk-white berries allaglow;And each Briton, small or big, IT WAS VERY STILL AND LONELY, FOR HISBABY SISTER SLEPT. Who would hunt or fight or dig,And be lucky all the New Year through,must carry home a twigOf the fortune-bringing, magic mistletoe. Every boy would have a berry save our little Caradoc!Then the feasting and the frolic in the wood!All day long — he felt a choking;It was cert
. St. Nicholas [serial]. ilethey marched, with all their might,Till they stood beneath the oak-trees spreadingshade. Swish! would go the golden sickle where the bough was seen to prickleThrough the green, with milk-white berries allaglow;And each Briton, small or big, IT WAS VERY STILL AND LONELY, FOR HISBABY SISTER SLEPT. Who would hunt or fight or dig,And be lucky all the New Year through,must carry home a twigOf the fortune-bringing, magic mistletoe. Every boy would have a berry save our little Caradoc!Then the feasting and the frolic in the wood!All day long — he felt a choking;It was certainly provoking :But — he started; some one softlythrough the willow hedge was poking,And he sprang within the doorway where hestood. From a hostile tribe — a stranger — such a looking stranger, too!You d have shaken in your very shoes for fear !He d a terrible mustache,And a snakeskin for a sash,And his face was daubed with purple ina manner truly rash,And he had a very long and horrid spear. 700 CARADOC. [June,. HIS MAMA WAS MAKING CALLSON SOME NEIGHBORS WHO WERE GAULS. Now a tramp, though Early English, still isnot a welcome guest,And t was plain his plans were sinister our little Carry, But! —If he should come in the hut,With the cakes a-baking on the hearth,the pantry door not shut,And the baby in her cradle, fast asleep ! On he came without delay in his Early Englishway,With a war-whoop and a most ferociousgrin;And was little Carry frightened ?Fiery bold his blue eyes lightened,And around his little British waist hislittle belt he tightened,And he proudly drew his little sword of tin. Who can say what might have happened!But in just the nick of timeCame a good old Druid gravely trotting was hurrying home to seeHow his favorite goose might be,—She d had something for her breakfastthat had seemed to disagree,—And he spied them in the twinkling of an eye. Now Tut, tut! he cried. What s this ?There is something much amiss ! And although his
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Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873
