Chapter 12
North Beach, by Bret Hart. Coffee Break Collection 40, Beaches. Recording by Public Domain Scholar. North Beach, after Spencer. Low were the castle of bold Pfeiffer throws,
Its sullen shadow on the rolling tide. No more the home where joy and wealth repose, But now where wasailers and sails abide. See yon long quay that stretches far and wide, Well known to citizens as wharf of mages.
There each sweet Sabbath walks in maiden pride, the pensive Margaret and brave Pat, whose legs encased in broad cloth oft keep time with pegs. Here cometh off the tender nursery maid, while in her ear her love his tale doth bore. meantime her infant doth her charge evade and ran with sagely on the sandy shore till the sly sea crab low in ambush laid seetheth his leg and biteth him full sore ah me what sound the shuddering echoes bore when his small tremble mixed with oceans roared hard by their stands in ancient hostelry and at its side a garden where the bear the stealthy catamount and coon agreed to work deceit on all who gathered there and when Augusta, that unconscious fair, with nuts and apples, plieth bruin free, lo, the green parrot claweth her back hair, and the grey monkey grabbeth fruits that she
on her gay bonnet wears, and laugheth loud and gleam. End of North Beach
