Page:Carroll - Sylvie and Bruno.djvu/276

248 There be three Herrings loitering around,
 * Longing to share that mossy seat:

Each Herring tries to sing what she has found
 * That makes Life seem so sweet.

Thus, with a grating and uncertain sound,
 * They bleat, and bleat, and bleat.

The Mother-Herring, on the salt sea-wave,
 * Sought vainly for her absent ones:

The Father-Badger, writhing in a cave,
 * Shrieked out 'Return, my sons!

You shall have buns,' he shrieked, 'if you'll behave!
 * Yea, buns, and buns, and buns!'

'I fear,' said she, 'your sons have gone astray?
 * My daughters left me while I slept.'

'Yes 'm,' the Badger said: 'it's as you say.'
 * 'They should be better kept.'

Thus the poor parents talked the time away,
 * And wept, and wept, and wept,"

Here Bruno broke off suddenly. "The Herrings' Song wants anuvver tune, Sylvle," he said. "And I ca'n't sing it——not wizout oo plays it for me!"