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He took them on his brawny back
And swam with them ashore.
"This slight return I owe for lack
Of thought," said he, "when o'er the track
I crawled;—I'd do much more,
But this, at least, will prove to you
How much that sad event I rue."
They thanked him for his kindly deed
And then resumed their march,
But when the time was come to feed
They found they'd nought to meet the need
Except a piece of starch.
Said Edward, "This will never do;
Your wool, old chap, would be like glue."
They had no work, they had no food,
But hungrier they grew.
At last said Horace, "What's the good
Of starving slowly? In the wood
There's game enough for two.
I feel quite faint, so get a gun
And see what you can shoot, my son."
