and the Bletherwitch
49
while all the other flowers seemed quite gay and merry in the sunshine, the Poppies were nodding their scarlet heads and gently dozing, what time some wild Holly Hocks beat to and fro murmuring—
Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!
While the corn is ready to reap.
Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!
And the lightest hours a-creep.
Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!
On the edge of the misty deep.
While the corn is ready to reap.
Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!
And the lightest hours a-creep.
Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!
On the edge of the misty deep.
As they lay upon the bank, to their surprise a procession of birds came along, the two foremost being fine handsome thrushes, carrying a large banner of ivy leaves, on which was inscribed, in letters of red clover, the following legend:—
Bean-Feast of Birds
from London and
the Suburbs.
“Fancy,” said Maude, “all the birds of London Town come to Fairy-land for a change of air!”
