The “Hush! hush! hush!” I thought ought to have a piano effectiveness, and it is a word children enjoy.

[Footnote 33:  “The Promise”:  “Verses for Children.”  Vol. ix.  Set to music by Alexander Ewing.—­Aunt Judy’s Magazine, July 1866.]

THE PROMISE.

Child.

Five blue eggs hatching,
With bright eyes watching,
Little brown mother, you sit on your nest.

Bird.

Oh! pass me blindly,
Oh! spare me kindly,
Pity my terror, and leave me to rest.

Chorus of Children.

Hush! hush! hush! 
’Tis a poor mother thrush. 
When the blue eggs hatch, the brown birds will sing—­
This is a promise made in the spring.

Child.

Five speckled thrushes,
In leafy bushes,
Singing sweet songs to the hot summer sky. 
In and out twitting,
Here and there flitting,
Happy in life as the long days go by.

Chorus.

Hush! hush! hush! 
’Tis the song of the thrush: 
Hatched are the blue eggs, the brown birds do sing—­
Keeping the promise made in the spring.

If you liked, one voice, or half the party, might sing, “When the blue eggs hatch,” and the other, “The brown birds will sing.”  Some are doubtful about the last lines, but the word “promise” had a jubilant musical rhythm in my head.  However, you can alter it; if it has not the same in yours....  I don’t set up for a versifier, and you may do what you please with this.

There is a certain class of child’s song which is always taught in the National system by certificated infant school mistresses.  They are semi-theatrical, very pretty, and serve at once as music, discipline, and amusement.  Such as “The Clock,” in which they beat the hours, swing for the pendulum, etc.  There are certain actions in these songs which express listening....  I am very fond of the National system for teaching children, and it has struck me that this song is a little of that type....  I am doubly vexed it is so poor, because your next thing to “Jerusalem the Golden” ought to be very good.  If you can, make your Processional Hymn very grand, and I will do my very best.  I have more hope of that.  Would the metre of Longfellow’s “Coplas de Manrique” be good for music?  It would be a fine hymn measure....  Don’t hamper yourself about the metre.  I will fit the words to the music.

TO MRS. GATTY.

S.S.  China. June 10, 1867.

I staggered up yesterday morning to have my first sight of an iceberg....  The sea was dark-blue, a low line of land (Cape Race) was visible, and the iceberg stood in the distance dead white, like a lump of sugar....  I think the first sight of Halifax was one of the prettiest sights I ever saw.  When I first came up there was no horizon, we were in a sea of mist.  Gradually the horizon line appeared—­then