Whither children love to go;
It's their playing, romping, swinging,
That give great joy to me
While the Dinkey-Bird goes singing
In the Amfalula-tree!

There the gum-drops grow like cherries,
And taffy's thick as peas,--
Caramels you pick like berries
When, and where, and how you please
Big red sugar-plums are clinging
To the cliffs beside that sea
Where the Dinkey-Bird is singing
In the Amfalula-tree.

So when children shout and scamper
And make merry all the day,
When there's naught to put a damper
To the ardor of their play;
When I hear their laughter ringing,
Then I'm sure as sure can be
That the Dinkey-Bird is singing
In the Amfalula-tree.

For the Dinkey-Bird's bravuras
And staccatos are so sweet--
His roulades, appogiaturas,
And robustos so complete,
That the youth of every nation--
Be they near or far away--
Have especial delectation
In that gladsome roundelay.

Their eyes grow bright and brighter,
Their lungs begin to crow,
Their hearts get light and lighter,
And their cheeks are all aglow;
For an echo cometh bringing
The news to all and me
That the Dinkey-Bird is singing
In the Amfalula-tree.

I'm sure you'd like to go there
To see your feathered friend--
And so many goodies grow there
You would like to comprehend!
_Speed, little dreams, your winging
To that land across the sea
Where the Dinkey-Bird is singing
In the Amfalula-Tree!_

_Eugene Field._

THE LITTLE PEACH

A little peach in the orchard grew,
A little peach of emerald hue:
Warmed by the sun, and wet by the dew,
It grew.

One day, walking the orchard through,
That little peach dawned on the view
Of Johnny Jones and his sister Sue--
Those two.

Up at the peach a club they threw:
Down from the limb on which it grew,
Fell the little peach of emerald hue--
Too true!

John took a bite, and Sue took a chew,
And then the trouble began to brew,--
Trouble the doctor couldn't subdue,--
Paregoric too.

Under the turf where the daisies grew,
They planted John and his sister Sue;
And their little souls to the angels flew--
Boo-hoo!

But what of the peach of emerald hue,
Warmed by the sun, and wet by the dew?
Ah, well! its mission on earth is through--
Adieu!

_Eugene Field._