Twilight Stories

ROBERT OF LINCOLN.

 Merrily swinging on briar 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 in that 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 calling his merry note:
           Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
           Spink, spank, spink;
  Look, what a nice new coat is mine,
  Sure there was never a bird so fine.
                Chee, chee, chee.

 Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife,
      Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings,
  Passing at home a quiet life,
      Broods in the grass while her husband sings:
           Bob-o'-l ink, bob-o'-link,
           Spink, spank, spink;
  Brood, kind creatures; you need not fear
  Thieves and robbers while I am here.
                Chee, chee, chee.

 Modest and shy as a nun is she,
      One weak chirp is her only note,
  Braggart and prince of braggarts is he,
      Pouring boasts from his little throat:
           Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
           Spink, spank, spink;
  Never was I afraid of man;
  Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can.
                Chee, chee, chee.

 Six white eggs on a bed of hay,
      Flecked with purple, a pretty sight!
  There as the mother sits all day,
      Robert is singing with all his might:
           Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
           Spink, spank, spink;
  Nice good wife, that never goes out,
  Keeping house while I frolic about.
                Chee, chee, chee.

 Soon as the-little ones chip the shell
      Six wide mouths are open for food;
  Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well,
      Gathering seed for the hungry brood.
           Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
           Spink, spank, spink;
  This new life is likely to be
  Hard for a gay young fellow like me.
                Chee, chee, chee.

 Robert of Lincoln at length is made
      Sober with work, and silent with care;
  Off is his holiday garment laid,
      Half forgotten that merry air,

          Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
           Spink, spank, spink;
  Nobody knows but my mate and I
  Where our nest and our nestlings lie.
                Chee, chee, chee.

 Summer wanes; the children are grown;
      Fun and frolic no more he knows;
  Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum crone;
      Off he flies, and we sing as he goes:
           Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
           Spink, spank, spink;
  When you can pipe that merry old strain,
  Robert of Lincoln, come back again.
               Chee, chee, chee.

                    WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

 Riggity-rig,
  Dance a jig,
  Dance a Highland Fling;
  Dance a Cake-walk,
  Give us o Clog,
  Or cut a  Pigeon's Wing.

U. S. SPELLS US.

 My papa's all dressed up to-day;
      He never looked so fine;
  I thought when I first looked at him
     My papa wasn't mine.

 He's got a beautiful new suit
      The old one was so old—
It's blue, with buttons, oh, so bright,      I guess they must be gold.

 And papa's sort o' glad and sort
      O' sad—I wonder why;
  And ev'ry time she looks at him
     It makes my mamma cry.

 Who's Uncle Sam?  My papa says
      That he belongs to him;
  But papa's joking, 'cause he knows
     My uncle's name is Jim.

 My papa just belongs to me
      And mamma.  And I guess
  The folks are blind who cannot see
      His buttons marked U. S.

 U. S.  spells Us.  He's ours—and yet
      My mamma can't help cry,
  And papa tries to smile at me
      And can't—I wonder why.

                              ANON.

 A dancing Bear came down the street;
      The children all ran to see the treat;
  Said the keeper: "Now, boys, come pay for your fun;
      Give me a penny to buy Bruin a bun."