50
SONGS OF THE ROAD
Now among Rhenoster kopjes
Somewhat northward of the Vaal,
You may see four little chappies,
Three can walk and one can crawl.
And the blue of Transvaal heavens
Is reflected in their eyes,
Each a little William Evans,
Smaller model—pocket size.
Each a little Burgher Piet
Of the hardy Boer race,
Two great peoples seem to meet
In the tiny sunburned face.
And they often greatly wonder
Why old granddad and Papa,
Should have been so far asunder,
Till united by mamma.
