Nest In A Pocket

A Nest in A Pocket

A little wren went to and fro, once in the nesting season,

And sought for shelter high and low, until for some queer reason,

She flew into a granary, where, on a nail suspended,

The farmer's coat she chanced to see, and there her search was ended.

The granary was in a loft, where not a creature met her;

The coat had hollows deep and soft--could anything be better?

And where it hung, how safe it was, without a breeze to rock it.

Come, little busy beak and claws, build quick inside the pocket!

Three speckled eggs soon warmly lay, beneath the happy sitter;

Three little birds--Oh, joy!--one day began to chirp and twitter.

Until--ah, can you guess the tale!-- The farmer came one morning,

And took his coat down from the nail, without a word of warning!

Poor little frightened Motherling! Up from the nest she fluttered,

And straightway every gaping thing, its wide-mouthed terror uttered.

The good man started back aghast, but merry was his wonder

When in the pocket he at last, found such unlooked-for plunder.

He put the coat back carefully; "I guess I have another,

So don't you be afraid of me, you bright-eyed little mother.

I know just how you feel, poor thing, for I have youngsters, bless you!

There--stop your foolish fluttering--nobody shall distress you."

Then merrily he ran away, to tell his wife about it--

How in the coat the nestling lay, and he must do without it.

She laughed, and said she thought he could, and so, all unmolested,

The mother birdie and her brood, safe in the pocket rested.

Till all the little wings were set, in proper flying feather.

And then there was a nest to rot--for off they flocked together.

The farmer keeps the nest to show, and says that he's the debtor.

His coat is none the worse, you know, while he's a little better.

.
-- Author Unknown

CENTER>