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"It appears to be some Chinese sage whose sentiments are quoted, if I may judge by the name--Hoox Lee."
"And what has he to say about it?"
"Well, there is a good deal. Here's a section on the 'Evidence of Transmitted Peculiarities' that starts out thus: Every one has noted the interest that the young of the human species take in dolls, marionettes, and exhibitions of such figures as the famous Punch and Judy, and Mrs.
Jarley's wax works. This is a universal characteristic. Whence does it arise? Why should this instinctive sympathy of children with Automata and their clumsy tricks, be so deep-seated and wide-spread? Evidently here is a fact which the wise and candid philosopher should ponder.
Here, it may be, is a thread by which we may traverse the labyrinth of man's mysterious nature. The deduction cannot well be resisted, that this natural and inwrought sympathy with the Automaton, in all its varying forms, is owing to the kins.h.i.+p of man himself with the Simian."
"Oh, that will do!" exclaimed Sophia breaking short the sentence. "That certainly is quite as funny as the Punch and Judy which Governor Wille had shown at his children's party, last Thanksgiving Day. But is Mr.
Hoox Lee in earnest do you think?"
"He seems to be," answered Faith, joining in with Sophia's quiet laughter. "But here is the next chapter." Chapter XL. To be Found Out is the Essence of Wrong.
"Turn on!"
Chapter XLIII. The Pleasure and Security of Drinking Liquors in Moderation.... Chapter XLIX. Wine and Beer Drinking the Sovereign Remedy for Drunkenness.... Chapter L. On the Origin of the Universe.
"Ah! What has the sage to say on that point?" asked Sophia.
"Far too much to read now. This seems to be a favorite theme with the sages; there are a great many pages. Here is the opening section: 'According to the sacred writings of the Pundits of India, a certain immense spider was the origin, the first cause of all things. This spider drawing the matter from its own bowels, wove the web of this universe, and disposed it with wonderful art. She, in the meantime sitting in the centre of her work, feels and directs the motions of every part, till at length, when she has pleased herself sufficiently in ordering and contemplating this web, she draws again into herself all the threads she had spun out and, having absorbed them, the universal nature of all creatures vanishes into nothing.'"
"Dear me," said Sophia, "how very like that is to the 'nebular theory'
that we heard the Professor discussing one evening with Governor Wille on the great porch. But pray, whence came the spider? Who made her? I wonder the sages didn't think of that question?"
Faith resumed the reading: "The natives of Guinea believe that the first man was created by a large black spider which is so common in their country, and is called in their jargon 'Ananse.'"
"Now, that is too bad!" said Sophia once more interrupting the reading.
"I could believe that the Pixies came that way, but to say that men were so made! But that is the way with the sages of unbelief. They had rather think the universe to have been spun out of the spinnerets of a big black spider, than admit that in the beginning the Holy G.o.d made all things."
Faith made no answer, but stood silently turning over the leaves. The silence was broken by a sound that startled the Nurses, and struck terror into their hearts. We must go back to the Brownie's island camp in order to explain this sudden interruption.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote AW: Appendix, Note A.]
CHAPTER XXV.
BLYTHE'S FLUTE.
Despite their position the wrecked Brownies were in good spirits. The restoration of Pipe had taken a load off their hearts. The reaction was so great, after their grief and the certainty of his loss, that low spirits vanished from the camp. The boatswain's resurrection seemed an omen of good fortune. The cheer that filled all hearts bubbled over in song, laughter, merry tale and joke. But as the Brownies feared to attract the attention of the Doubt's crew who were yet on the island, they kept the sound of their merrymaking within bounds of their picket lines.
Blythe added much to the enjoyment of the occasion. By some rare chance, as he was setting out for the fleet in the morning, he had flung over his shoulder his flute box, which he often carried in a little case something after the manner of a field gla.s.s. It had clung to him when the Ken's boat went down, and there was the flute, ready to swell the joy of the bivouac. Blythe was quite in the spirit to play, and all hearts were in tune to listen.
Again and again the notes of the sweet instrument murmured among the overhanging branches. Camp tunes, battle tunes, love tunes, home tunes--the hearts of the Brownies were stirred by turns with tender, pathetic, sad or fond emotions as the well known strains fell upon their ears.
"Come, lads," cried Pipe, "cannot we have a song?"
"Aye, aye, a song, a song!" was called from all sides.
"What shall it be?" asked Blythe. "I will gladly accompany Captain Clearview here, who is an excellent singer. Captain, what say you? Shall we have 'Woodmen, Boatmen, Sailors and Hors.e.m.e.n?' The lads like that and can join in the chorus."
"Play away!" said Clearview, and at the proper note he struck in and sang the following song, in the refrain of which all the company joined:
THE BROWNIES' NATIONAL SONG.
O MERRY AND FREE!
OR WOODMEN, BOATMEN, SAILORS AND HORs.e.m.e.n.
I.
O merry and free, 'Neath the wildwood tree, Are the Woodmen of Brownieland, bonnie and dee; Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
In the breeze there is balm, In the sky there is calm, Each sound in the wood is the voice of a psalm; Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
II.
O merry and free, On the lake and lea, Are the Boatmen of Brownieland, bonnie and dee; Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
For the trout's rus.h.i.+ng leap, And the water-fowl's sweep, With the paddle's soft dip sweet harmony keep; Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
III.
O merry and free, On the wrinkled sea, Are the sailors of Brownieland, bonnie and dee; Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
For the creaking of sail, And the sough of the gale, And splas.h.i.+ng of waves, are the songs that ne'er fail; Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
IV.
O merry and free, Over hill and lea, Are the troopers of Brownieland, bonnie and dee; Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
It is pleasure indeed, To be one with the steed In his strength, and thrill with the rhythm of speed; Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
"Hist--st!"
The sharp prolonged sibilant that broke in upon their applause and caused instant silence, was uttered by Sergeant True. He advanced into the circle with his hand raised warningly.
"Hist! Quiet all!--except you, Blythe. Keep on with your music. Play some of your softest airs, and play until I bid you stop. As for the rest of you, I charge you, for your lives, not to speak or move until you hear from me. No matter what you see--perfect silence, remember!"
He stepped back again into the bushes and was hidden from sight. What could the strange interruption mean? The Brownies were all alive with keen curiosity. Was the Sergeant in a merry humor, and planning some trick upon the party? They suspected that. But it was not much after True's habit to do such a thing. Besides, his manner betokened unusual earnestness. Therefore, all sat still, looking into the bushes whither True had disappeared. The Adjutant promptly fell into his friend's plan.
He obeyed orders, played away and waited.
"Hist! look up! But don't stop the music, and don't stir!" said True in a low voice.
All eyes turned upward. A faint rustling among the branches directed the party's gaze to the point of interest. A quaint old hag of a Pixie was slowly crawling along the twig above Blythe's head. It was our acquaintance, Dame Tigrina!