Grandma's Canary
Grandma loves her birdy,
And when he gaily sings,
She will laugh and chat with him,
At which he hops and springs.
Fearing though, that birdy
Might not understand,
Grandma from the toy-shop,
Brought a whistle grand.
Tuning now the whistle,
To his sweet bird-note,
He in singing back to her,
Nearl
Birdy, free outflying,
Often comes to light
On Grandma's tip-of-finger
Or chair-back, pretty sight!
From her hand she feeds him,
And he oft will take
From her mouth the sugar,
With a merry shake.
Yester-morn the window
Being open wide,
Birdy thought it brighter
On the outer side.
Grandma mourning sadly,
Shed of tears a few,
Then she prayed the Father,
"Show me what to do."
Soon she set his cage out
On the window-sill,
Saying, "Birdy'll come now,
Oh, I'm sure he will!"
Then she, hopeful, praying,
"Bring my birdy home,"
Took the sweet bird-whistle,
Playing "Birdy, come."
And the birdy hearing,
Quickly came and lit
On the cage, and shortly
Flitted into it.
Thankful now was Grandma,
To the dear Lord, who,
Listening to her prayer
Taught her what to do.
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