THE HAPPY HOUSEHOLD

It’s when the birds go piping and the daylight slowly breaks,
That, clamoring for his dinner, our precious baby wakes;
Then it’s sleep no more for baby, and it’s sleep no more for me,
For, when he wants his dinner, why it’s dinner it must be!
And of that lacteal fluid he partakes with great ado.
While gran’ma laughs,
And gran’pa laughs,
And wife, she laughs,
And I--well, _I_ laugh, _too_!

You’d think, to see us carrying on about that little tad,
That, like as not, that baby was the first we’d ever had;
But, sakes alive! he isn’t, yet we people make a fuss
As if the only baby in the world had come to _us_!
And, morning, noon, and night-time, whatever he may do,
Gran’ma, she laughs,
Gran’pa, he laughs,
Wife, she laughs,
And _I_, of course, laugh, too!

But once--a likely spell ago--when that poor little chick
From teething or from some such ill of infancy fell sick,
You wouldn’t know us people as the same that went about
A-feelin’ good all over, just to hear him crow and shout;
And, though the doctor poohed our fears and said he’d pull him
through,
Old gran’ma cried,
And gran’pa cried,
And wife, she cried,
And I--yes, _I_ cried, _too_!

It makes us all feel good to have a baby on the place,
With his everlastin’ crowing and his dimpling, dumpling face;
The patter of his pinky feet makes music everywhere,
And when he shakes those fists of his, good-by to every care!
No matter _what_ our trouble is, when _he_ begins to _coo_,
Old gran’ma laughs,
And gran’pa laughs,
Wife, she laughs,
And I--you bet, _I_ laugh, _too_!

SO, SO, ROCK-A-BY SO!

So, so, rock-a-by so!
Off to the garden where dreamikins grow;
And here is a kiss on your winkyblink eyes,
And here is a kiss on your dimpledown cheek
And here is a kiss for the treasure that lies
In the beautiful garden way up in the skies
Which you seek.
Now mind these three kisses wherever you go--
So, so, rock-a-by so!

There’s one little fumfay who lives there, I know,
For he dances all night where the dreamikins grow;
I send him this kiss on your droopydrop eyes,
I send him this kiss on your rosyred cheek.
And here is a kiss for the dream that shall rise
When the fumfay shall dance in those far-away skies
Which you seek.
Be sure that you pay those three kisses you owe--
So, so, rock-a-by so!

And, by-low, as you rock-a-by go,
Don’t forget mother who loveth you so!
And here is her kiss on your weepydeep eyes,
And here is her kiss on your peachypink cheek,
And here is her kiss for the dreamland that lies
Like a babe on the breast of those far-away skies
Which you seek--
The blinkywink garden where dreamikins grow--
So, so, rock-a-by so!

THE SONG OF LUDDY-DUD

A sunbeam comes a-creeping
Into my dear one’s nest,
And sings to our babe a-sleeping,
The song that I love the best:
“’Tis little Luddy-Dud in the morning--
’Tis little Luddy-Dud at night;
And all day long
’Tis the same sweet song
Of that waddling, toddling, coddling little mite, Luddy-Dud.”

The bird to the tossing clover,
The bee to the swaying bud,
Keep singing that sweet song over
Of wee little Luddy-Dud.
“’Tis little Luddy-Dud in the morning--
’Tis little Luddy-Dud at night;
And all day long
’Tis the same dear song
Of that growing, crowing, knowing little sprite, Luddy-Dud!”

Luddy-Dud’s cradle is swinging
Where softly the night winds blow,
And Luddy-Dud’s mother is singing
A song that is sweet and low:
“’Tis little Luddy-Dud in the morning--
’Tis little Luddy-Dud at night;
And all day long
’Tis the same sweet song
Of my nearest and my dearest heart’s delight, Luddy-Dud!”