PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
wrestling with a stubborn stud. "Tilt your head back and let's have it. That's the stuff!"
The bird heard and cocked an inquiring beady eye toward the open window. He shifted one foot, put his head at an angle and examined Gordon exhaustively. Then, apparently satisfied, he swelled his throat, took a firm grip on the branch and proceeded to tell all about everything. And Gordon, having conquered the refractory stud, listened.
Swing, swing, swing in the chinaberry tree!
Here's a breeze! Here's a breeze!
The leaves are rustling about me
And the twilight is creeping up, up
Over the hill and through the darkening forest,
And the moon, the tiny moon, hangs like a silver worm
Above the steeple. It has rained and the world
Is damp and fragrant, and the little fat bugs
Are crawling. There's one! There's one! There's one!
Sing, sing, sing in the chinaberry tree!
Hear me! Hear me! Hear me!
Was ever a song so sweet as mine?
See me ruffle and swell! What a voice have I!
I have dined; I am happy; I sing! Over there
Sits my plump little wife by our nest.
21
