THE BROWN THRUSH

up in

THERE'S a merry brown thrush sitting up

the tree

"He's singing to me! He's singing to me!"
And what does he say, little girl, little boy?
"Oh, the world's running over with joy!
Don't you hear? don't you see?

Hush! Look! In my tree,

I'm as happy as happy can be!"

And the brown thrush keeps singing, "A nest do

you see,

And five eggs hid by me in the juniper-tree? Don't meddle! don't touch! little girl, little boy, Or the world will lose some of its joy!

Now I'm glad! now I'm free!

And I always shall be,

If you never bring sorrow to me."

So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree,
Το
you and to me, to you and to me;

And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy.
Oh, the world's running over with joy ;

But long it won't be,

Don't you know? don't you see?

Unless we are as good as can be?"

-Lucy Larcom

I

gave hairs the nest to make,

But the nest I did not take.

"Not I," said the dog, "Bow-wow !
I'm not so mean, anyhow."

"To-whit! to-whit! to-whee!
Will you listen to me?
Who stole four eggs I laid,

And the nice nest I made?"

"Bob-o'-link! Bob-o'-link!
Now what do you think?
Who stole a nest away

From the plum-tree, to-day?"

"Coo-coo! Coo-coo! Coo-coo !
Let me speak a word, too!
Who stole that pretty nest
From little yellow-breast?"

"Not I," said the sheep; "Oh, no! I wouldn't treat a poor bird so.

I

gave wool the nest to line,

But the nest was none of mine.

Baa! Baa!" said the sheep; "Oh, no,

I wouldn't treat a poor bird so."

"To-whit! to-whit! to-whee!
Will you listen to me?
Who stole four eggs I laid,
And the nice nest I made?"

"Bob-o'-link! Bob-o'-link!
Now, what do you think?
Who stole a nest away

From the plum-tree, to-day?"

"Coo-coo! Coo-coo! Coo-coo!
Let me speak a word, too!
Who stole that pretty nest
From little yellow-breast?

"Caw! Caw!" cried the crow;
"I should like to know
What thief took away

A bird's nest to-day?"

"Cluck! Cluck!" said the hen,

"Don't ask me again.

Why, I haven't a chick
Would do such a trick.
We all gave her a feather,
And she wove them together.
I'd scorn to intrude

On her and her brood.

"Cluck! Cluck!" said the hen,

"Don't ask me again."

"Chirr-a-whirr! Chirr-a-whirr !

All the birds make a stir!

Let us find out his name,

And all cry For shame!

"I would not rob a bird,"
Said little Mary Green;
"I think I never heard

Of anything so mean."

"It is very cruel, too,"
Said little Alice Neal;
"I wonder if he knew

How sad the bird would feel?"

A little boy hung down his head,
And went and hid behind the bed;
For he stole that pretty nest
From poor little yellow-breast;
And he felt so full of shame,
He didn't like to tell his name.

-L. Maria Child

ROBERT OF LINCOLN

MER

ERRILY swinging on brier and weed,
Near to the nest of his little dame,

Over the mountain-side or mead,

Robert of Lincoln is telling his name:
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink,

Snug and safe is this nest of ours,

Hidden among

the summer flowers.

Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed,

Wearing a bright, black wedding-coat;

White are his shoulders, and white his crest, Hear him call, in his merry note: