APPLETON-CENTURY-CROFTS, INC.
NEW YORK

Copyright 1887, by The Century Co.

Copyright renewed, 1915, by The Century Co.
—————
All rights reserved. This book, or parts
thereof, must not be reproduced in any
form without permission of the publisher.





Printed in U. S. A.

  PAGE The Brownies at School 1 The Brownies' Ride 8 The Brownies on Skates 14 The Brownies on Bicycles 19 The Brownies at Lawn-tennis 25 The Brownies' Good Work 30 The Brownies at the Gymnasium 36 The Brownies' Feast 42 The Brownies Tobogganing 48 The Brownies' Balloon 55 The Brownies Canoeing 62 The Brownies in the Menagerie 68 The Brownies' Circus 73 The Brownies at Base-ball 78 The Brownies and the Bees

S Brownies rambled 'round one night,
A country schoolhouse came in sight;
And there they paused awhile to speak
About the place, where through the week
The scholars came, with smile or whine,

Each morning at the stroke of nine.
"This is," said one, "the place, indeed,
Where children come to write and read.
'T is here, through rules and rods to suit,
The young idea learns to shoot;
And here the idler with a grin
In nearest neighbor pokes the pin,

Or sighs to break his scribbled slate
And spring at once to man's estate.
How oft from shades of yonder grove
I've viewed at eve the shouting drove
As from the door they crowding broke,
Like oxen from beneath the yoke."

Another said: "The teacher's chair,
The ruler, pen, and birch are there,
The blackboard hangs against the wall;
The slate's at hand, the books and all.
We might go in to read and write
And master sums like scholars bright."

"I'll play," cried one, "the teacher's part;
I know some lessons quite by heart,
And every section of the land
To me is plain as open hand."
"With all respect, my friend, to you,"
Another said, "that would not do.
You're hardly fitted, sir, to rule;

Your place should be the dunce's stool.
You're not with great endowments blessed;

Besides, your temper's not the best,
And those who train the budding

I'll be the teacher, if you please;
I know the rivers, lakes, and seas,
And, like a banker's clerk, can throw
The figures nimbly in a row.
I have the patience, love, and grace,
So requisite in such a case."

Now some bent o'er a slate or book,
And some at blackboards station took.
They clustered 'round the globe with zeal,
And kept it turning like a wheel.

My way from Cork to Puget Sound; But here so many things I find That never dawned upon my mind, On sundry points, I blush to say, I've been a thousand miles astray." "'T is like an egg," another cried, "A little longer than it's wide, With islands scattered through the seas Where savages may live at ease;

And buried up in Polar snows
You find the hardy Eskimos;
While here and there some scorching spots
Are set apart for Hottentots.
And see the rivers small and great,
That drain a province or a state;
The name and shape of every nation;
Their faith, extent, and population:
And whether governed by a King,
A President, or council ring."

While some with such expressions bold
Surveyed the globe as 'round it rolled,
Still others turned to ink and pen,
And, spreading like a brooding hen,
They scrawled a page to show the band
Their special "style," or "business hand."

The teacher had enough to do,
To act his part to nature true:
He lectured well the infant squad,
He rapped the desk and shook the rod,
And stood the dunce upon the stool,
A laughing-stock to all the school—
But frequent changes please the crowd,

So lengthy reign was not allowed;
And when one master had his hour,
Another took the rod of power;
And thus they changed to suit the case,
Till many filled the honored place.

So taken up was every mind
With fun and study well combined,

They noticed not the hours depart,
Until the sun commenced to dart
A sheaf of lances, long and bright,
Above the distant mountain height;
Then from the schoolroom, in a heap,
They jumped and tumbled, twenty deep,
In eager haste to disappear
In deepest shades of forests near.

When next the children gathered there,
With wondering faces fresh and fair,
It took an hour of morning prime,
According to the teacher's time,
To get the books in place once more,
And order to the room restore.
So great had been the haste to hide,
The windows were left open wide;
And scholars knew, without a doubt,
That Brownies had been thereabout.

NE night a cunning Brownie band
Was roaming through a farmer's land,

And while the rogues went prying 'round,
The farmer's mare at rest they found;
And peeping through the stable-door,
They saw the harness that she wore.
The sight was tempting to the eye,
For there the cart was standing nigh.

"That mare," said one, "deserves her feed—
Believe me, she's no common breed;
Her grit is good: I've seen her dash
Up yonder slope without the lash,
Until her load—a ton of hay—

Went bouncing in beside the bay.
In this same cart, old Farmer Gill
Takes all his corn and wheat to mill;
It must be strong, though rude and rough;
It runs on wheels, and that's enough."

Now, Brownies seldom idle stand
When there's a chance for fun at hand.

So plans were laid without delay;
The mare was dragged from oats and hay,
The harness from the peg they drew,
And every one to action flew.
It was a sight one should behold
To see them working, young and old;

Two wrinkled elves, like leather browned,
Whose beards descended near the ground,
Along with youngsters did their best
With all the ardor of the rest.

While some prepared a rein or trace,
Another slid the bit in place;
More buckled bands with all their might,
Or drew the harness close and tight.

When every strap a buckle found,
And every part was safe and sound,
Then 'round the cart the Brownies flew,—
The hardest task was yet to do.
It often puzzles bearded men,
Though o'er and o'er performed again.

Some held the shafts to steer them straight,
More did their best to balance weight,
While others showed both strength and art
In backing Mag into the cart.
At length the heavy job was done,
And horse and cart moved off as one.

Now down the road the gentle steed
Was forced to trot at greatest speed.

A merrier crowd than journeyed there
Was never seen at Dublin Fair.
Some found a seat, while others stood,
Or hung behind as best they could;
While many, strung along, astride,
Upon the mare enjoyed the ride.
The night was dark, the lucky elves
Had all the turnpike to themselves.
No surly keeper barred the way,

For use of road demanding pay,
Nor were they startled by the cry
Of robbers shouting, "Stand or die!"
Across the bridge and up the hill
And through the woods to Warren's mill,—
A lengthy ride, ten miles at least,—
Without a rest they drove the beast,
And then were loath enough to rein
Old Mag around for home again.

Nor was the speed, returning, slow;
The mare was more inclined to go,

Because the feed of oats and hay
Unfinished in her manger lay.
So through the yard she wheeled her load
As briskly as she took the road.
No time remained to then undo
The many straps which tight they drew.
For in the east the reddening sky
Gave warning that the sun was nigh.

The halter rope was
About the nearest
Then off they scam-
And disappeared at quickly wound
post they found;
pered, left and right,
once from sight.

When Farmer Gill that morning fair
Came out and viewed his jaded mare,
I may not here in verse repeat
His exclamations all complete.
He gnashed his teeth, and glared around,
And struck his fists, and stamped the ground,
And chased the dog across the farm,
Because it failed to give alarm.
"I'd give a stack of hay," he cried,
"To catch the rogue who stole the ride!"
But still awry suspicion flew,—
Who stole the ride he never knew.

NE night, when the cold moon hung low
And winter wrapped the world in snow
And bridged the streams in wood and field
With ice as smooth as shining shield,
Some skaters swept in graceful style
The glistening surface, file on file.

For hours the Brownies viewed
the show,
Commenting on the groups
below;

Said one: "That pleasure might be ours—
We have the feet and motive powers;
No mortal need us Brownies teach,
If skates were but within our reach."

Another answered: "Then, my friend,
To hear my plan let all attend.
I have a building in my mind
That we within an hour can find.

Three golden balls hang by the door,
Like oranges from Cuba's shore;
Behind the dusty counter stands
A native of queer, far-off lands;

A place to muster near the town,
And meeting hour they noted down;
And then retiring for the night,
They soon were lost to sound and sight.

When evening next her visit paid
To fold the earth in robes of shade,

From out the woods across
the mead, The Brownies gathered
as agreed,
To venture boldly and
procure.

The skates that would their fun insure.
As mice can get to cake and cheese
Without a key whene'er they please,
So, cunning Brownies can proceed
And help themselves to what they need.

For bolts and bars they little care
If but a nail is wanting there!
Or, failing this, with ease descend
Like Santa Claus and gain their end
As children to the windows fly
At news of Jumbo passing by,
So rushed the eager band away
To fields of ice without delay.

Though far too large at heel and toe,
The skates were somehow made to go.
But out behind and out before,
Like spurs, they stuck a span or more,
Alike afflicting foe and friend

In bringing journeys to an end.
They had their slips and sudden spreads,
Where heels flew higher than their heads,
As people do, however nice,
When venturing first upon the ice.
But soon they learned to curve and wheel
And cut fine scrolls with scoring steel,
To race in clusters to and fro,
To jump and turn and backward go,

Until a rest on bed so cool,
Was more the wonder than the rule.

But from the lake they all withdrew
Some hours before the night was through,
And hastened back with lively feet
Through narrow lane and silent street,
Until they reached the broker's door
With every skate that left the store.

And, ere the first
The skates were
Of their brief ab-
Was left within the
faint gleam of day,
safely stowed away;
sence not a trace
dusty place.

NE evening Brownies, peeping down
From bluffs that overlooked the town,
Saw wheelmen passing to and fro
Upon the boulevard below.

"It seems," said one, "an easy trick,
The wheel goes 'round so smooth and quick;
You simply sit and work your feet
And glide with grace along the street.

The pleasure would be fine indeed
If we could thus in line proceed."

"Last night," another answer made,
"As by the river's bank I strayed,
Where here and there a building stands,
And town and country-side join hands,
Before me stood a massive wall
With engine-rooms and chimneys tall.

"To scale the place a way I found,
And, creeping in, looked all around;
There bicycles of every grade
Are manufactured for the trade;
Some made for baby hands to guide,
And some for older folk to ride.

"Though built to keep intruders out,
With shutters thick and casings stout,
I noticed twenty ways or more,
By roof, by window, wall and door,
Where we, by exercising skill,
May travel in and out at will."

Another spoke, in nowise slow
To catch at pleasures as they go,
And said, "Why let another day
Come creeping in to drag away?
Let's active measures now employ
To seize at once the promised joy.
On bicycles quick let us ride,
While yet our wants may be supplied."

When people lock their
doors at night,





And double-bolt them
left and right,
And think through patents, new and old,
To leave the burglars in the cold,
The cunning Brownies smile to see
The springing bolt and turning key;
For well they know if fancy leads

Their band to venture daring deeds,
The miser's gold, the merchant's ware
To them is open as

Not long could door or windows stand
Fast locked before the Brownie band;
And soon the bicycles they sought
From every room and bench were
brought.

The rogues ere long began to show
As many colors as the bow;
For paint and varnish lately spread
Besmeared them all from foot to head.
Some turned to jay-birds in a minute,
And some as quick might shame the linnet;
While more with crimson-tinted breast
Seemed fitted for the robin's nest.

But whether red or green or blue,
The work on hand was hurried through;
They took the wheels from blacksmith fires,
Though wanting bolts and even tires,
And rigged the parts with skill and speed
To answer well their pressing need.
And soon, enough were made complete
To give the greater part a seat,
And let the rest through cunning find
Some way of hanging on behind.
And then no spurt along the road,
Or 'round the yard their courage showed,
But twenty times a measured mile
They whirled away in single file,
Or bunched together in a crowd
If width of road or skill allowed.
At times, while rolling down the grade,
Collisions some confusion made,
For every member of the band,
At steering wished to try his hand;
Though some, perhaps, were not designed
For labor of that special kind.

But Brownies are the folk to bear
Misfortunes with unruffled air;
So on through rough and smooth they spun
Until the turning-point was won.
Then back they wheeled with every spoke,
An hour before the thrush awoke.