Doomsday for them, for
one was dead, and the other was in Botany Bay. And the little girl would
not play with her dolls for a whole week, and never forgot poor little
Tom. And soon my lady put a pretty little tombstone over Tom's shell in
the little churchyard in Vendale, where the old dalesmen all sleep side
by side between the limestone crags. And the dame decked it with
garlands every Sunday, till she grew so old that she could not stir
abroad; then the little children decked it for her. And always she sang
an old old song, as she sat spinning what she called her wedding-dress.
The children could not understand it, but they liked it none the less
for that; for it was very sweet, and very sad; and that was enough for
them. And these are the words of it:--

_When all the world is young, lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen;
Then hey for boot and horse, lad,
And round the world away;
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day._

_When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down;
Creep home, and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among:
God grant you find one face there,
You loved when all was young._

Those are the words: but they are only the body of it: the soul of the
song was the dear old woman's sweet face, and sweet voice, and the sweet
old air to which she sang; and that, alas! one cannot put on paper. And
at last she grew so stiff and lame, that the angels were forced to carry
her; and they helped her on with her wedding-dress, and carried her up
over Harthover Fells, and a long way beyond that too; and there was a
new schoolmistress in Vendale, and we will hope that she was not
certificated.

And all the while Tom was swimming about in the river, with a pretty
little lace-collar of gills about his neck, as lively as a grig, and as
clean as a fresh-run salmon.

Now if you don't like my story, then go to the schoolroom and learn your
multiplication-table, and see if you like that better. Some people, no
doubt, would do so. So much the better for us, if not for them. It takes
all sorts, they say, to make a world.

"He prayeth well who loveth well
Both men and bi