TED'S WEATHER PROPHET.

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GRANVILLE OSBORNE.

Flittin' along from tree to tree,
Chipper 'n friendly ez he kin be;
Dancin' erbout on the'r talles' lim',
Jes' the likeliest place fer him.
Bound ter foller 'n seems to know
Very bes' places I like to go;
Bobbin' his head 'n winkin' his eye,
'S if he knew all erbout ther sky;
'Nen he nods an' sez as plain,
"Goin' ter rain; goin' ter rain!"
Little feller 'ith coat all brown,
Vest uv red wher' the wings come down,
Primpin' his feathers 'n winkin' at me,
Mincin' er-round so he kin see;
'Taint no use ter hide erway,
'At's a game what two can play;
'Course he finds me, 'nen he tries
Ter make believe he's awful wise.
All uv a suddin he sez again,
"Goin' ter rain, goin' ter rain!"
Climbed way up ter his nest one day,
"Better be careful," I heard him say;
Ruffled his coat 'n looked so mad,
I didn't 'spose he could be so bad.
Coziest nest 'at ever you seen,
Snuggled way up amongst ther green;
Four little eggs, ther purtiest blue,
Didn't touch one uv 'em, honest 'n true!
Robin hops on 'n begins ter explain,
"Goin' ter rain, goin' ter rain!"

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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