Page:Field Poems of Childhood.djvu/157



T'S when the birds go piping and the daylight slowly breaks, That, clamoring for his dinner, our precious baby wakes; Then it's sleep no more for baby, and it's sleep no more for me, For, when he wants his dinner, why it's dinner it must be! And of that lacteal fluid he partakes with great ado, While gran'ma laughs, And gran'pa laughs, And wife, she laughs, And I—well, I laugh, too!

You'd think, to see us carrying on about that little tad, That, like as not, that baby was the first we'd ever had; But, sakes alive! he isn't, yet we people make a fuss As if the only baby in the world had come to us! And, morning, noon, and night-time, whatever he may do, Gran'ma, she laughs, Gran'pa, he laughs, Wife, she laughs, And I, of course, laugh, too!