Up in the older tree, tree, tree, Peep, and a tiny nest you’ll see, Swung by the breezes to and fro-- There’s where the dear little birdlings grow.
Up in the nursery, neat, neat, neat, Hear the patter of wee, wee feet-- Hear little voices chirp and crow-- There’s where the dear little babies grow!
What is this, with blue Lit-tle shoes, so new-- Cun-ning lit-tle feet, Trot-ting down the street, What will mam-ma say? Ba-by’s run a-way-- Ba-by Fay Fer-ny.
Calls a boy: “Hal-loo! See here, lit-tle pop-pet show, Come with me!” No, no, Ba-by’s do-in’ do Ba-by’s own self! Fast Round the cor-ner passed Ba-by Fay Fer-ny.
Stops a great big man Hur-ry-ing all he can: “Here! what’s this! My! Dropped down from the sky? Some-bod-y’s to blame! Ba-by, what’s your name?” “Ba-by Fay Fer-ny.”
“Where you go-ing? say!” “Day-day.” “What’s that, hey? See the ba-by fidg-et! What d’you want, you midg-et.” “Piece o’but-ter-bed, Su-gy on it, ’las-ses on it, Jam on it,” said Ba-by Fay Fer-ny.
Peo-ple pause to see: La-dies, one, two, three; A po-lice-man, too; But no one that knew Whence the ba-by came. “What’s your pa-pa’s name?” “Pa-pa Fay Fer-ny.”
Comes a breath-less maid: “O dear! I’m a-fraid Ba-by’s lost and gone-- Ba-by Fer-gu-son! No--there down the street! O, you naugh-ty sweet Ba-by Fay Fer-ny!”
One day when grandma was making some pies, She wished to give Tommy a pleasant surprise; So she made a puppy-dog out of some dough, And baked it, and marked it, and named it Bruno. This wonderful dog could stand on its feet,
Its body was chubby, and cunning and neat, Its little dough-head was spotted with black, And its little dough-tail curled over its back. And when Tommy saw it he shouted with glee, “How good grandma was to make that for me!” And he played with the puppy-dog day after day, Till its head and its tail were both worn away. --_M. E. N. H._
A li-on gazed down at his shad-ow one day; Said he, “I look fierce, I de-clare! No won-der my neigh-bors keep out of my way, And wish they were birds of the air!
“And I own that real-ly I feel a-fraid Some-times when I hear my-self roar!” And he wished as he went and lay down in the shade That he need be a li-on no more.
Look! how they meas-ure, Dai-sy and Rose; Naught-y Dai-sy _will_ stand On the tips of her toes!