Page:Field Poems of Childhood.djvu/158

 But once—a likely spell ago—when that poor little chick

From teething or from some such ill of infancy fell sick,

You wouldn't know us people as the same that went about

A-feelin' good all over, just to hear him crow and shout;

And, though the doctor poohed our fears and said he'd pull him through,

Old gran'ma cried,

And gran'pa cried,

And wife, she cried,

And I—yes, I cried, too!

It makes us all feel good to have a baby on the place,

With his everlastin' crowing and his dimpling, dumpling face;

The patter of his pinky feet makes music everywhere,

And when he shakes those fists of his, good-by to every care!

No matter what our trouble is, when he begins to coo,

Old gran'ma laughs,

And gran'pa laughs,

Wife, she laughs,

And I—you bet, I laugh, too!