“_Peep-sy weeps!_ Ba-by, say, What’ll you give if I will stay? _Peep-sy weeps!_ Ba-by, O, What’ll you give if I will go?”
He splashed the milk, He nib-bled the bread, He spread both wings, He stood on his head.
But still the ba-by Said nev-er a word-- And out of the win-dow Flashed the bird!
“_Peep-sy weeps!_” loud sang he, “Such a stu-pid ba-by I nev-er did see! Nev-er a smile, nev-er a word-- _Peep-sy weeps!_ I’m glad I’m a bird!”
She sits in the porch with her sau-cer; Smeared are her fin-gers and thumbs; While a-round with nois-y clat-ter Old hen, with her chick-ens comes.
Ba-by shoos and shoos, and strikes them With the spoon that spills the crumbs: “_Do ’way chick-ies! ’ou s’an’t hab em-- My nice bwead an’ las-ses tums!_”
But the chick-ies sly will pick them When Miss Dim-ple’s not on the watch; And old moth-er hen comes bold-ly
With her mind made up for a snatch. Take care, Mrs. Hen-ny-pen-ny! One good rap is what you catch, With Miss Dim-ple’s sharp ad-vise-ment: “_’Ou la-zy ol’ fing--go scwatch!_”
How the wind whistles and roars! How he blows, he blows, and he blows! But what does he say at the doors? Nobody knows, nobody knows.
The ground is covered with white, For it snows, it snows, and it snows; But it falls so silent at night That nobody knows, nobody knows.
The grass is springing again, And it grows, it grows, and it grows, In the sunshine and the rain-- How, nobody knows, nobody knows.
Hear the black cock flap his wings! And he crows, he crows, and he crows; But whether he laughs or he sings, Why, nobody knows, nobody knows.
The brook runs sparkling along, And it flows, it flows, and it flows; But what is its rippling song, Why, nobody knows, nobody knows.
The cow comes down through the lane, And she lows, she lows, and she lows; But what she says it is plain That nobody knows, nobody knows.
Over the fields and away Fly the crows, the crows, the crows; They caw, they caw, but they say What nobody knows, nobody knows. --_E. B._
“CLUCK, cluck! cluck, cluck!” called the mother-hen, “Some harm has come to my chickens, I fear; I counted this morning, and then there were ten; Now four are gone, and but six are here.”
“Peep, peep! peep, peep!” four chickens replied, As they sipped the dew from a burdock leaf; “We must hurry back to our mother’s side, She is calling us now with a voice of grief.”