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A Child's Own Book of Verse, Book Three by  Ada M. Skinner and Frances Gillespy Wickes

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A Child's Own Book of Verse, Book Three
by Ada Skinner
Third volume of A Child's Own Book of Verse, a three-volume set planned for use during the four primary years. This unusually fine collection of poetry was selected with the child's interests in mind. Includes sound rhymes and jingles to appeal to the ear, descriptive poems to create images in the mind's eye, lullabies and lyrics to warm the heart, and story-telling poems to stir the imagination. Attractively illustrated by Maud and Miska Petersham.  Ages 7-10
130 pages $8.95   




It was in the year of ninety-four, in March the twentieth day,

Our gallant tars their anchors weighed, and for sea they bore away,

Brave boys,

And for sea they bore away.


Speedicut was our captain's name, our ship was the Lyon bold,

And we had gone to sea, brave boys, to face the storm and cold.

When that we came to the cold country

Where the frost and the snow did lie,

Where the frost and the snow, and the whale-fish so

blue and the daylight's never gone,

Brave boys,

And the daylight's never gone.

Our boatswain went to topmost high, with his spy-glass in his hand,

"A whale, a whale, a whale," he did cry,

"And she blows at every span."

Our captain stood on the quarter deck, and a clever

little man was he,

Overhaul, overhaul, let the wind-tackle fall, and

to launch your boats so free,

Brave boys,

And to launch your boats so free.

There's harpooneers, and line coilers, and line colecks also;

There's boat-steerers and sailors brave;

To the whale, to where she blows, to the whale, to where she blows,

Brave boys,

To the whale, to where she blows.


We struck the whale, and away she went, casts a flourish

with her tail,

But Oh, and alas, we've lost one man, and we did not kill the whale,

Brave boys,

And we did not kill that whale.

When that the news to our captain it did come, a sorrowful

man was he,

For the losing of his prentice boy, and down his colours drew he,

Brave boys,

And down his colours drew he.

Now, my lads, don't be amazed for the losing of one man,

For fortune it will take its place, let a man do all he can,

Brave boys,

Let a man do all he can.


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