The Mocking Bird 



By Frank L. Stanton 



He didn't know much music 



When first he came along ; 

 An' all the birds went wonderin' 



Why he didn't sing a song. 



They primed their feathers in the sun, 

 An' sung their sweetest notes ; 



An' music jest come on the run 

 From all their purty throats ! 



But still that bird was silent 



In summer time an' fall ; 

 He jest set still an' listened 



xAn' he wouldn't sing at all ! 



But one night when the songsters 



Was tired out an' still, 

 An' the wind sighed down the valley 



An' went creepin' up the hill ; 



When the stars was all a-tremble 

 In the dreamin' fields o' blue, 



An' the daisy in the darkness 

 Felt the fallin' o' the dew, — 



There come a sound o' melody 



No mortal ever heard, 

 An' all the birds seemed singin' 



From the throat of one sweet bird ! 



Then the other birds went playin' 



In a land too fur to call ; 

 Fer there warn't no use in stayin' 



When one bird could sing fer all ! 



585 



