THE BROWNIES CROSS THE ATLANTIC.

And as they added mile to mile,
Their pleasant chat went on the while.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FI

ee ty
_—— ‘
S22
== Za sg)

 

At times they sighted far ahead

A ship with all her canvas spread.
“Lie low!” would be the shout, and all
Upon the raft would promptly sprawl,
And there as flat as flounders lie,

For fear the lookout’s watchful eye
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