  [After the manner of Jane Taylor.] Our Julia has a little bird, And Peepsy is his name; And now I'll sing a little song To celebrate the same. He's yellow all from head to foot, And he is very sweet, And very little trouble, for He never wants to eat. He never asks for water clear, He never chirps for seed, For cracker, or for cuttlefish, For sugar or chickweed. "Oh! what a perfect pet!" you cry, But there's one little thing, One drawback to the bonny bird,— Our Peepsy cannot sing. He chirps no song at dawn or eve, He makes no merry din; But this one cannot wonder at, For Peepsy's made of tin. |
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