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The words of the old lullaby came softly: "Rock-a-bye, baby, On the tree-top, When the wind blows The cradle will rock " Drusilla looked up at Dr. Eaton and her face broke into tiny little love wrinkles as she saw the look on his face. She put her faded old hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes for a long moment; then she said softly: "Go on, my boy; and God bless you!"
Then that little dwarf went soundly to sleep, hanging in his hammock. Summer passed; autumn came; the leaves fell from the butternut tree, taking the bundle-baby with them, exactly as in the old rhyme: Rock-a-bye baby on the tree-top, When the wind blows, your cradle will rock, When the cold weather makes all the leaves fall, Down tumbles baby and cradle and all.
"Into the wide sea!" said Mary, looking at him with a smile that was lovely in its radiance and sympathy. "Into the wide sea yes!" he answered "And sea that was pretty rough at first. But one can get accustomed to anything even to the high rock-a-bye tossing of great billows that really don't want to put you to sleep so much as to knock you to pieces. But I'm galloping along too fast.
I will follow their adventures in a vision to discover if they have told you the truth. And in order that you may all share my knowledge, you shall see the vision as I see it." She then bowed her head and closed her eyes. "Rock-a-bye, baby, on a treetop; Don't wake her up, or the vision will stop," muttered the parrot, but no one paid any attention to the noisy bird.
Slowly at first, then more swiftly over rumbling bridges and clicking point, more swiftly still, breaking from the fog-banked Seine valley, through snarling tunnel and chattering cutting, faster now and freer, by long lines of poplar trees, mist-strewn, and moonlit ponds and fields, spectral white roads, little winking towns; and now, as if drawn by the magnetic south, swaying to the rock-a-bye of speed, aiming for the lights of Dijon far away south, to the tune of the wheels, "seventy-miles-an-hour seventy-miles-an-hour."
His first song, "Rock-a-bye, Baby," he sold for twelve printed copies, and it is said to have had a larger sale than any cradle-song ever published in this country. His song, "Protestations," is tender, and has a violin obbligato that is really more important than the voice part. The song, "Parting," is wild with passion, and bases a superb melody on a fitting harmonic structure.
"I guess I'm bad, aye?" he said. Jimmy positively blushed. As for Zoie, she was growing more and more impatient for a little attention to herself. "Rock-a-bye, Baby," sang Alfred in strident tones and he swung the child high in his arms. Jimmy and Aggie gazed at Alfred as though hypnotised. They kept time to his lullaby out of sheer nervousness.
Ar-rah rock-a-bye, babby, on th' three top: Whin th' wind blo-ows, th' cradle ull r-rock; An', a-whin th' bough breaks, th' cradle ull fa-a-a-ll, An' a-down ull come babby, cradle, an' all. Then he sang: In th' town iv Kilkinny there du-wilt a fair ma-aid, In th' town iv Kilkinny there du-wilt a fair ma-aid.
Children generally know that tiny babies can hold very tight, and have various ideas for the mother. How to keep the baby from falling brings the idea of twisting in extra branches, which is recognised as a cradle in the tree, and the children delight in this as a meaning for "Rock-a-bye, baby, in the tree-top."
"Now, sis," said her brother, "I want 'Old Folks at Home, 'Annie Laurie, 'Rock-a-bye, and 'Ben Bolt, and then I'll open the box."
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