Part 3

PARROT: Hark, there she goes! To hear her any parrot would suppose She owned the earth, conceited little thing, She really seems to fancy she can sing, Yet, though you’ll scarce believe, that little bird Rules the whole blessed household with a word. She only has to call “Cuckoo!” and lo! The family at once to luncheon go. When she screams “Cuckoo!” twice it is the rule For all the kids to hurry back to school-- And when _six_ times they know it is a sign That Cuckoo thinks it’s time for them to dine. And so it goes through all the livelong day, She tells them what to do and they obey. But as for me, they treat me like a doll And mimic me and call me “Pretty Poll,” And ask me several million times a day, “Does Polly want a cracker?”--by the way, I’ve yet to see that cracker--oh, sometimes I gnash my beak, or mutter nursery rhymes Or anything! for fear I should let slip The wicked words they taught me on the ship, Those naughty sailors, when long, long ago They brought me from the land where spices grow And palm-trees wave, and Cuckoos do not rule And tell folks when to bed and when to school And when to go to dinner. Never mind! _My_ time will come. As that vain bird will find Unto her sorrow. Yes, the die is cast! Next time the Cuckoo squawks will be her last.

Next time she tries--

CUCKOO (_striking four o’clock_): Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

PARROT: Come, now, have done! we’ve heard enough from you! Prepare to die! your little reign is o’er, Over this house you’ll tyrannize no more! What! won’t you come? then I’ll soon show you how! There! stop that racket; heavens, what a row!

(_Smashes the Cuckoo to bits, causing the machinery to run down._)

Help, stop it, some one!

(_It stops._)

Well, upon my word, You’re tough for such a very little bird, I thought you’d never die! and now, my dear, The family will very soon be here, And when they see how little’s left of you They’ll be so glad they won’t know what to do-- To think the Cuckoo’s killed and they are free To work or play or sleep or take their tea Just when they please--and, best of all, how jolly To feel they owe it all to “Pretty Polly”!

(_Curtain._)

The Elf and the Bee.

“Oh, Bumblebee! Bumblebee! _Don’t_ fly so near! Or you will tumble me Over, I fear!”

“Oh, funny Elf! Funny Elf! Don’t be alarmed! I’m looking for honey, Elf. You sha’n’t be harmed.”

“Then tarry, Oh, tarry, Bee! Fill up your sack; And carry, oh, carry me Home on your back!”

A Fable.

It was a hungry pussy cat Upon Thanksgiving morn, And she watched a thankful little mouse That ate an ear of corn.

“If I ate that thankful little mouse, How thankful he should be, When he has made a meal himself, To make a meal for me!

“Then, with his thanks for having fed And his thanks for feeding me-- With all _his_ thankfulness inside-- How thankful _I_ shall be!”

Thus mused the hungry pussy cat Upon Thanksgiving Day. But the little mouse had overheard, And declined (with thanks) to stay.

In a fairy forest known To the fairy-folk alone, Where the grasses meet and spread Like a green roof overhead, Where the dandelion-tree Towers tall as tall can be, And the ferns lift up their high Fairy ladders to the sky, For the elves to climb upon-- Here are merry goings-on.

From the forest far and near All the fairy-folk are here, For to-day there is to be Music ’neath the daisy-tree.

And the creatures of the wood, One and all, have been so good And obliging as to say, They will gladly come and play For the elves a serenade, In the fairy forest glade. All the little birds have come; And the bumblebees that hum; And the gnats that twang the lute; And the frogs that play the flute; And the kind of frog whose toots Seem to come from out his boots; And the great big green and yellow Frog that plays upon the ’cello; And the katydid, in green, Who is oftener heard than seen; With the little ladybird Who is oftener seen than heard; And the cricket, never still With his lively legs and trill. And, in short, each forest thing That can hum, or buzz, or sing, Each and all have come to play For the little elves to-day.

Now the crawfish takes the stand To conduct the fairy band. First there is a moment’s pause, Then the leader lifts his claws, Waves his wand, and--one, two, three! All at once, from gnat and bee, Frog, and katydid, and bird

Such a melody is heard That the elves and fairies wee, Clapping little hands with glee, Make their mushroom seat to sway In a very risky way. And the creatures in delight Play away with all their might, Feeling very justly proud That the elves applaud so loud.

Now the sun is getting low, And the elves to bed must go Ere the sleepy flowers close In whose petals they repose; For if they were late they might Have to stay outside all night. So the last good-byes are said; Every one goes home to bed; And the creatures as they fly Play a fairy lullaby, Growing faint and fainter still, Fainter and more faint, until All is silent--and the shade Creeps upon the fairy glade.

Transcriber’s Note:

Obvious printer errors corrected silently.

Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.