WHEN the old dock and the gray-haired sailor, the tall church spire and
the flag on the little red schoolhouse were out of sight, Puss, Junior,
turned to the little girl and said: "Let's go down in the cabin. I'll
show you the cutest little baby you ever saw. It's the 'rock-a-by, baby,
upon-the-tree-top.' His mother always hung the cradle on a willow tree
so that the breeze might rock him to sleep. But now the ocean does the
rocking and baby sleeps almost all the time."
So the little girl followed Puss down the stairs to the cabin, where
they heard a sweet voice singing:
"Over the water, and over the sea,
And over the water to Charley.
I'll have none of your horrid beef,
Nor I'll have none of your barley:
But I'll have some of your very best flour
To make a white cake for my Charley."
"S-s-sh!" said the mother of the baby as Puss and the little girl came
in.
"Are you going to make a cake with the flour the miller brought on
board?" asked Puss in a whisper.
"Yes," said the baby's mother. "But what's your name?" turning to the
little girl.
"She's looking for Bobby Shafto," answered Puss.
[Illustration]
"What's your name, little girl," asked the rock-a-by-baby's mother.
"Alice," said the little girl.
"A pretty name."
"I'm glad you like it," said the little girl. "And what is yours?"
"Mine? Oh, you can call me 'The Rock-a-by Baby's Mother.'"
"Let's go out on deck," suggested Puss. "Won't you come, too?" he asked,
turning to the baby's mother.
Rolling in the sea were huge black porpoises. Over and over they rolled
like great footballs. Flying fish rose out of the water, and overhead
the gulls sailed back and forth on their great wings. The breeze was
blowing strong and steady, and now and then the salt spray came over the
railing. Some of it wet Puss, Junior's, whiskers.
"Did you get wet?" asked Alice.
"Not much," said Puss. "Besides, I don't care for a little spray,
anyway."
"Come over here and sit down on this coil of rope," said the
Rock-a-By-Baby's Mother, and I'll sing you a song:
"Rock-a-by, rock-a-by on the deep blue,
Sailor Boy, Mother is dreaming of you.
Thinking of Sailor Boy out on the foam,
Hoping that Sailor Boy soon will be home."