The Troubles of Biddy: A Pretty Little Story. Isabel C. Byrum

      "Oh dear," sighed old Biddy, just under her breath,

      "I really am troubled and worried to death!

      For months I have thought of a family, dear,

      To gladden my heart, and to live with me here.

      "But daily I find that my plans are upset,

      And all I can do is to sit here and fret —

      I haven't a sign of an egg in my nest,

      Though some I have laid are as good as the best.

      "I scolded last night when my mistress came near,

      But though she was bitten, she seemed not to fear;

      She only said, 'Biddy, what are you about?'

      And then through the doorway she simply passed out.

      "I don't understand it; I cannot see why;

      For surely to be a good mother I'd try;

      Although I would see that they did as I said!"

      And Biddy, in sorrow and grief hung her head.

      So deep was the longing of poor Biddy's heart,

      She felt that with life she was ready to part;

      But glancing about in her trouble and pain

      She saw that her mistress was coming again;

      And noting the basket she held in her hand

      Old Biddy thought quickly "she can't understand,"

      And "what is she doing?" exclaimed in surprise;

      For out of the nest Biddy felt herself rise.

      As Biddy stood resting her poor weary legs,

      She saw that the basket contained shining eggs;