THE BRUSHWOOD BOY
Girls and boys, come out to play:
The moon is shining as bright as day!
Leave your supper and leave your sleep,
And come with your playfellows out in the street!
Up the ladder and down the wall—
A CHILD of three sat up in his crib and screamed at the top of his voice, his fists clinched and his eyes full of terror. At first no one heard, for his nursery was in the west wing, and the nurse was talking to a gardener among the laurels. Then the housekeeper passed that way, and hurried to soothe him. He was her special pet, and she disapproved of the nurse.
"What was it, then? What was it, then? There 's nothing to frighten him, Georgie dear."
"It was—it was a policeman! He was on the Down—I saw him! He came in. Jane said he would."
"Policemen don't come into houses, dearie. Turn over, and take my hand."
"I saw him—on the Down. He came here. Where is your hand, Harper?"
The housekeeper waited till the sobs changed to the regular breathing of sleep before she stole out.
"Jane, what nonsense have you been telling Master Georgie about policemen?"