horns that stuck up from his head, and he was playing on a flute while
he sat cross-legged on a stone by the roadside. And when he saw our
two small friends in their machine, he began to play:

It's not so far to the twinkle star
In the little white boat of sleep.
So list to my tune, like a breeze in June,
Where the honeysuckles creep.

Over the sky, way up high,
In the little white boat of sleep.
Ever so far to the twinkle star
Way up in the sky blue deep.

"Where did you learn that lullaby," asked kind Uncle Lucky, brushing a
tear from his eye, for he remembered just a little song his mother
used to sing when he was a little boy rabbit, you know.

"I don't know," answered Danny Goat. He pulled on his goatee and
smiled, and then he began again:

"Up in the sky when the sun is high
The white cloud boats go sailing by,
And the summer breeze in the tall, tall trees
Is singing a song the whole day long.
And this is the song they sing:
We ring the bell in the cool damp dell
That grows on the lily's stalk,
We bend the ferns in the river's turns
And the tail of the great gray hawk;