MARY HOWITT. THE FAIRIES’ PASSAGE. I. Tapp, tapp! Rapp, rapp! “Get up, Gaffer Ferryman.” “Eh? who is there?” The clock strikes Three. “Get up, do, Gaffer! You are the very man We have been long—long—longing to see.” The ferryman rises, growling and grumbling, And goes fum-fumbling, and stumbling, and tumbling, Over the wares in his way to the door. But he sees no more Than he saw before, Till a voice is heard—“O Ferryman, dear! Here we are waiting, all of us here! We are a wee, wee colony, we; Some two hundred in all, or three. Ferry us over the river Lee Ere dawn of day, And we will pay The most we may, In our own wee way!” II. “Who are you? Whence came you? What place are you going to?” “O, we have dwelt over-long in this land. The people get cross, and are growing so knowing, too; Nothing at all but they now understand; We are daily vanishing under the thunder Of some huge engine or iron wonder; That iron—O, it has entered our souls!” “——Your souls? O, Goles! You queer little drolls! Do you mean——?” “Good Gaffer, do aid us with speed, For our time, like our stature, is short indeed! And a very long way we have to go, Eight or ten thousand miles or so, Hither and thither, and to and fro; With our pots and pans, And little gold cans; But our light caravans Run swifter than man’s!” III. “Well, well, you may come!” said the Ferryman, affably; “Patrick, turn out, and get ready the barge!” Then again to the little folk—“Though you seem laughably Small, I don’t mind, if your coppers be large.” O, dear! what a rushing, what pushing, what crushing (The waterman making vain efforts at hushing The hubbub the while) there followed these words! What clapping of boards! What strapping of cords! What stowing away of children and wives, And platters, and mugs, and spoons, and knives! Till all had safely got into the boat, And the Ferryman clad in his tip-top coat, And his wee little fairies were fairly afloat! Then ding! ding! ding! And kling! kling! kling! How the coppers did ring In the tin pitcherling! IV.