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Page 98 - So, faintly calling and crying Till the sun is under the sea; Crying and moaning till the stars Come out for company; He thinks of his brother and sister, Asleep in their safe warm bed; He thinks of his father and mother, Of himself as dying — and dead ; And of how, when the night is over, They must come and find him at last; But he never thinks he can leave the place Where duty holds him fast.
Page 99 - Tis many a year since then ; but still, When the sea roars like a flood, Their boys are taught what a boy can do Who is brave and true and good. For every man in that country Takes his son by the hand, And tells him of little Peter, Whose courage saved the land.
Page 98 - Her neighbors are bearing between them Something straight to her door; Her child is coming home, but not As he ever came before! "He is dead!
Page 45 - Now she entered the village street, With book in hand and face demure, And soon she came, with sober feet, To a crying babe at a cottage door.
Page 175 - One white foot, buy him ; Two white feet, try him ; Three white feet, deny him ; Four white feet and a white nose, Strip off his hide and give him to the crows.
Page 44 - Christel so thoughtfully trod, Pondering what the preacher had said. " Even the youngest, humblest child, Something may do to please the Lord. " "Now what," thought she, and half sadly smiled, "Can I, so little and poor, afford?
Page 98 - Till a glad shout from the bearers Thrills the stricken man and wife — " Give thanks, for your son has saved our land, And God has saved his life...
Page 96 - Hour after hour rolled by, yet there sat the heroic boy, in cold and darkness, shivering, wet, and tired, but stoutly pressing his hand against the dangerous breach. All night he stayed at his post. At last the morning broke.