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Mr. and Mrs. Spikky Sparrow
IOn a little piece of wood,Mr. Spikky Sparrow stood;Mrs. Sparrow sate close by,A-making of an insect pie,For her little children five,In the nest and all alive,Singing with a cheerful smileTo amuse them all the while,Twikky wikky wikky wee,Wikky bikky twikky tee,Spikky bikky bee!IIMrs. Spikky Sparrow said,“Spikky, Darling! in my headMany thoughts of trouble come,Like to flies upon a plum!All last night, among the trees,I heard you cough, I heard you sneeze;And, thought I, it’s come to thatBecause he does not wear a hat!Chippy wippy sikky tee!Bikky wikky tikky mee!Spikky chippy wee!IIINot that you are growing old,But the nights are growing cold.No one stays out all nights longWithout a hat: I’m sure it’s wrong!”Mr. Spikky said, “How kind,Dear! you are, to speak your mind!All your life I wish you luck!You are! you are! a lovely duck!Witchy witchy witchy wee!Twitchy witchy witchy bee!Tikky tikky tee!IVI was also sad, and thinking,When one day I saw you winking,And I heard you sniffle-snuffle,And I saw your feathers ruffle;To myself I sadly said,She’s neuralgia in er head!That dear head has nothing on it!Ought she not to wear a boet?Witchy kitchy kitchy wee?Spikky wikky mikky bee?Chippy wippy chee?VLet us both fly up to town!There I’ll buy you such a gown!Which, completely in the fashion,You shall tie a sky-blue sash on.And a pair of slippers neat,To fit your darling little feet,So that you will look and feelQuite galloobious and genteel!Jikky wikky bikky see,Chicky bikky wikky bee,Twicky witchy wee!”VISo they both to London went,Alighting on the Monument,Whence they flew down swiftly—pop,Into Moses’ wholesale shop;There they bought a hat and boet,And a gown with spots upon it,A satin sash of Cloxam blue,And a pair of slippers too.Zikky wikky mikky bee,Witchy witchy mitchy kee,Sikky tikky wee.VIIThen when so completely drest,Back they flew, and reached their nest.Their children cried, “O Ma and Pa!How truly beautiful you are!”Said they, “We trust that cold or painWe shall never feel again!While, perched on tree, or house, or steeple,We now shall look like other people.Witchy witchy witchy wee,Twikky mikky bikky bee,Zikky sikky tee.”The Pelican chorus
King and Queen of the Pelicans we;No other Birds so grand we see!None but we have feet like fins!With lovely leathery throats and chins!Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!We think no Birds so happy as we!Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!We think so then, and we thought so still!We live on the Nile. The Nile we love.By night we sleep on the cliffs above;By day we fish, and at eve we standOn long bare islands of yellow sand.And when the sun sinks slowly downAnd the great rock walls grow dark and brown,Where the purple river rolls fast and dimAnd the Ivory Ibis starlike skim,Wing to wing we dance around,—Opening our mouths as Pelicans ought,And this is the song we nightly snort;—Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!We think no Birds so happy as we!Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill,—We think so then, and we thought so still!Last year came out our Daughter, Dell;And all the Birds received her well.To do her honour, a feast we madeFor every bird that can swim or wade.Herons and Gulls, and Cormorants black,Cranes, and Flamingoes with scarlet back,Plovers and Storks, and Geese in clouds,Swans and Dilberry Ducks in crowds.Thousands of Birds in wondrous flight!They ate and drank and danced all night,And echoing back from the rocks you heardMultitude-echoes from Bird and Bird,—Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!We think no Birds so happy as we!Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill,We think so then, and we thought so still!Yes, they came; and among the rest,The King of the Cranes all grandly dressed.Such a lovely tail! Its feathers floatBetween the ends of his blue dress-coat;With pea-green trowsers all so neat,And a delicate frill to hide his feet,—(For though no one speaks of it, every one knows,He has got no webs between his toes!)As soon as he saw our Daughter Dell,In violent love that Crane King fell,—On seeing her wadding form so fair,With a wreath of shrimps in her shot white hair.And before the end of the next long day,Our Dell had given her heart away;For the King of the Cranes had won that heart,With a Crocodile’s egg and a large fish-tart.She vowed to marry the King of the Cranes,Leaving the Nile for stranger plains;And away they flew in a gathering crowdOf endless birds in a lengthening cloud.Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!We think no Birds so happy as we!Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!We think so then, and we thought so still!And far away in the twilight sky,We heard them singing a lessening cry,—Farther and farther till out of sight,And we stood alone in the silent night!Often since, in the nights of June,We sit on the sand and watch the moon;—She has gone to the great Gromboolian plain,And we probably never shall meet again!Oft, in the long still nights of June,We sit on the rocks and watch the moon;—She dwells by the streams of the Chankly Bore,And we probably never shall see her more.Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!We think no Birds so happy as we!Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!We think so then, and we thought so still!