[Illustration] [Illustration] Some racers of the jumping kind At times disturbed the riders' mind When from the track they sudden wheeled, And over fences took the field, As if they hoped in some such mode To rid themselves of half their load. But horses, howsoever smart, Are not a match for Brownie art, For still the riders stuck through all, In spite of fence, or ditch, or wall. Some clung to saddle, some to mane, While others tugged at bridle rein. [Illustration] [Illustration] So all the steeds found it would pay To let the Brownies have their way, Until a glimpse of rising sun Soon made them leave the place and run. [Illustration] THE BROWNIES' BIRTHDAY DINNER. [Illustration] When people through the county planned To give their public dinners grand, The Brownies met at day's decline To have a birthday banquet fine. "The proper things," a speaker cried, "Await us here on every side; We simply have to reach and take And choose a place to boil and bake. With meal and flour at our feet, And wells of water pure and sweet, That Brownie must be dull indeed Who lacks the gumption to proceed. We'll peel the pumpkins, ripened well, And scoop them hollow, like a shell, Then slice them up the proper size To make at length those famous pies, For which the people, small and great, Are ever quick to reach a plate." [Illustration] This pleased them all; so none were slow In finding work at which to go. A stove that chance threw in their way Was put in shape without delay. Though doors were cracked, and legs were rare, The spacious oven still was there, Where pies and cakes and puddings wide Might bake together side by side. [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration]