Cricket and Cat-Bird

There's a quaint little fellow in black,

In an out-of-the-way place he hides;

Good nature he never doth lack,

And fretting and care he derides.

With arms held akimbo he stands

And takes the world easy each day;

He owneth not houses nor lands,

Yet in sunlight or rain he doth say,

"Cheer up! cheer up!"

 

There's a queer little matron who hops

Mid leaves of the garden and grove;

Her querulous tongue never stops

Complaining where'er she doth rove.

She seemeth a sprite of old care,.

While cheery and blue are the skies,

And joy is abroad on the air;

Forever she slumbers and cries,

"Oh dear! Oh, dear!"

 

There are boys, yes, and girls, like these twain —

I meet them in field and in street;

From fretting some never abstain,

But some all cheerfulness seem,

A cricket or cat-bird to-day,

Now which, will you be, little dear?

A kiss for the red lips that say,

Though skies may be cloudy or clear,

"Cheer up! Cheer up!"

August 4, 1877. Pacific Appeal 14(48): 1.