THE BROWNIES CROSS THE ATLANTIC.

At times the crew was frightened well
When sharks or grampus splashing fell
Where mighty waves did mastery win
In spite of twisting tail or fin;

Then plowing round from side to side
The visitor would slip and slide,

Till, to the great relief of fish

And harmonizing with the wish

Of every Brownie, down he went

Into his natural element.

*T was well the ropes and hawsers stood
They made of birch or leatherwood,

For had they parted in that strain,
When consternation seemed to reign,

*T is hard to estimate the loss

That might have followed such a toss.

 

But winds go down, if one can last

To be around when all is passed,

So waves grew still, the fearful squall
Had spent its force, and best of all,
Though out of shape the raft was tossed
And logs were broken, others lost,

When that distressing storm was through
Not one was missing from the crew.

But while the waves around them played
The Brownie band good time had made,
For now, when calm the ocean grew,

A tract of land was plain in view.
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