"A little bird sat on the twig of a tree,

A-swinging and singing as glad as could be,

And shaking his tail and smoothing his dress,

And having such fun as you never could guess;

And when he had finished his gay little song,

He flew down the street and went hopping along,

This way and that way with both little feet,

While his sharp little eyes looked for something to eat.

A little boy said to him, 'Little bird, stop

And tell me the reason you go with a hop;

Why don't you walk as boys do, and men,

One foot at a time, like a duck or a hen?'

Then the little bird went with a hop, hop, hop,

And laughed as if he never could stop:

And he said, 'Little boy, there are some birds that talk,

And some birds that hop, and some birds that walk,

But most little birds that can sing you a song,

Are so small that their legs are not very strong

To scratch with, or wade with, or catch things, that's why

They hop with both feet, little boy, good-bye.'"