The Guineahen
tThe Guineahen's ery is " Conte back ! Come back ! ") IN days when petticoats were bunchy And lavender was laid In Silks as stiff as pride; yet sertmehy, There lived a little maid Whose foolish heart was wont to hover And flutter light as rhyme, Yet could not settle on a lover For any length of time.
So though she smiled on Dick and Harry And Tom, from day to day, If any of them wished to marry She bade him go away.
Yet, when he'd turned a flouted shoulder She'd sob—" Alas ! Alack !
I rather wish I had been bolder !
Come back I Come back I Come back ! " If fond returning lover-kissed her Behind the parlour door, She'd say, " I love you as a sister-
ni try to love you more ! "
But if her courage she could muster To kiss him, sure enough Her lips would whisk like housewife's duster Removing specks of fluff.
The days went on, and still she bustled From time o' fetching milk Till evening, and her heart-beats rustled Her gown of mottled silk.
To lovers she was ever fickle, Yet longed to say the word
rill Father Time mislaid his sickle
And turned her to a bird.
You've maybe heard her plaintive stutter, - Her desolating scritch, You've seen her mottled feathers flutter Distraughtly down the ditch : When wiser birds their laves are billing, You've heard her cry, " Mack "
(To emphasize that she is willing)
" Come back ! Come back Come back ! "
BARBARA ELTPHAN TODD.
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