Love Songs of Childhood by Eugene Field - HTML preview

"FIDDLE-DEE-DEE"

      There once was a bird that lived up in a tree,

      And all he could whistle was "Fiddle-dee-dee"—

      A very provoking, unmusical song

      For one to be whistling the summer day long!

      Yet always contented and busy was he

      With that vocal recurrence of "Fiddle-dee-dee."

      Hard by lived a brave little soldier of four,

      That weird iteration repented him sore;

      "I prithee, Dear-Mother-Mine! fetch me my gun,

      For, by our St. Didy! the deed must be done

      That shall presently rid all creation and me

      Of that ominous bird and his 'Fiddle-dee-dee'!"

      Then out came Dear-Mother-Mine, bringing her son

      His awfully truculent little red gun;

      The stock was of pine and the barrel of tin,

      The "bang" it came out where the bullet went in—

      The right kind of weapon I think you'll agree

      For slaying all fowl that go "Fiddle-dee-dee"!

      The brave little soldier quoth never a word,

      But he up and he drew a straight bead on that bird;

      And, while that vain creature provokingly sang,

      The gun it went off with a terrible bang!

      Then loud laughed the youth—"By my Bottle," cried he,

      "I've put a quietus on 'Fiddle-dee-dee'!"

      Out came then Dear-Mother-Mine, saying: "My son,

      Right well have you wrought with your little red gun!

      Hereafter no evil at all need I fear,

      With such a brave soldier as You-My-Love here!"

      She kissed the dear boy.

      (The bird in the tree

      Continued to whistle his "Fiddle-dee-dee")