It was like coming
from a darkened room into the light. One moment we were in the aisles of
that great green cathedral, the next there was an open road and the
sunlight and houses. We prodded the horses with our heels and raced down
the road. Surprised inhabitants came out and stared. We waved to them;
we loved them; we loved houses and dogs and cows and apple trees. But
most of all we loved level places.
We were in time, too, for the railroad strike had not yet taken place.
As Bob got off his horse, he sang again that little ditty with which,
during the most strenuous hours of the trip, we had become familiar:--
"Oh, a sailor's life is bold and free,
He lives upon the bright blue sea:
He has to work like h--, of course,
But he doesn't have to ride on a darned old horse."
THE END
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
The poems on pages 140 and 188, were punctuated differently. This was
retained.
On page 90, Dvorak is printed with a hacek over the r. The contraints of
text preclude this from being used in this one instance.
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