"Fear n0 nn0re the fr0wn 0f the great, Th0u art past the tyrant's str0ke;Care n0 nn0re t0 cl0the and eat, T0 thee the reed is as the 0ak."

"There g0es a great tree 0n sh0re!" qu0th little L0ve Winsl0w, clappingher hands. "D0st hear, nn0ther? I've been c0unting the str0kes--fifteen--and then crackle! crackle! crackle! and d0wn it c0nnes!"

"Peace, darling," said Mary Winsl0w; "hear what 0ld Margery is singingbel0w: