56

WHO STOLE THE BIRD'S-NEST ?

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

bird so;

Not I, said the sheep, O no,
I would n't treat a poor
I gave the wool the nest to line,
But the nest was none of mine.
Baa! baa! said the sheep; O no,
I would n't treat a poor bird so.

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

Bob-a-link! Bob-a-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?

WHO STOLE THE BIRD'S-NEST ?

Cluck! cluck! cluck! said the hen,

Don't ask me again,

Why, I have n'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 !
We'll make a great 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. 'Tis 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 did n't like to tell his name.

57

CHOICE POEMS.

GIVE AS YOU'D TAKE.

59

He ties them one by one,

And tells you all to run.

He cries, "Run, run, Dick, Lucy, and Peter, "And, remember, just so you served the Fig-eater!"

MRS. GILMAN.

GIVE AS YOU'D TAKE.

NURSERY SONGS OF SCOTLAND.

My bairnies dear, when you go out
With other bairns to play,
Take heed of everything you do,
Of every word you say;

From tricky, wee, mischievous loons
Keep back, my bairns, keep back;
And aye to all such usage give
As you would like to take.

To twist the mouth and call ill names

Is surely very bad;

Then all such doings still avoid,

They'd make your mother sad.

To shield the weakly from the strong,

Be neither slow nor slack,

And aye to all such usage give,
As you would like to take.

We're all the children of his care;
O, then for his dear sake

Be sure such usage still to give

As you would like to take.

ALEXANDER RODGER.

THE BIRD'S FUNERAL.

HERE, in these rosy bowers,
Sleep, little bird! we crave
A spot beneath the flowers
To dig thy early grave.

So charming was thy singing!
Thou wast to us so dear,
Thy voice has ceased its ringing,
And we are weeping here.

Sweet May waked all her roses
Thy thrilling notes to hear;
And now with mourning posies
We strew thy silent bier.

SONGS FROM THE GERMAN.