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.
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