Classic Poem

I
Observe the loving mother bird,
Up in the spreading tree,
Correct with stern but loving word,
Her tender chickadee.
The feathered youngster tries to flap
His embryonic wings,
While mother cheers the little chap,
As to the bough he clings.
He makes a most heroic jump,
Alas, it is in vain,
She says: ' Don't mind a little bump,
Just try it once again.'

Flutter, little bird and keep on trying,
By and by you will be flying;
You can do it, take my word,
Keep on fluttering, little bird.

II
At dinner parties you have met
Young Mister Parvenu,
Who views the knives and forks and spoons,
And wonders what to do.
He eats the blue points with a spoon,
For fish he'll use a knife,
He can't pick out the salad fork,
To save his mortal life.
At last the demi tasse is served,
A la Martin's, New York,
The only tool that he has left,
One lonely oyster fork.

Flutter, little bird and keep on trying,
By and by you will be flying;
Watch the hostess, mum's the word,
Keep on fluttering, little bird.

III
You've seen the man from up the road,
With lots of ready cash;
Who takes a suite at ten per day
And hopes to cut a dash.
His dinner coat is very short,
His hat is very high,
The fourteen karat stud he wears,
Will blind each passer-by.
But ignorance with him is bliss,
And he's a happy man,
Although ,his tie is ready-made,
And shoes are russet tan.

Flutter, little bird and keep on trying,
By and by you will be flying;
All beginners look absurd,
Keep on fluttering, little bird.

IV
The woman who is up-to-date,
Must join a reading club,
Where matrons meet to analyze,
The popular flub-dub.
It's hard on Mrs. Malaprop,
Who used to be a cook,
And until hubby struck it rich,
Had never read a book.
She thinks that Kipling wrote ' Beaucaire,'
And can't get in her head,
Why Shakespeare doesn't write more books,
She doesn't know he's dead.

Flutter, little bird and keep on trying,
By and by you will be flying;
Clubs are helpful, so I've heard,
Keep on fluttering, little bird.

V
Though politics may loudly buzz
Each candidate has vowed
To seldom think, and if he does,
To never think out loud.
He simply sits in solemn state
And lets his friends explain
That he's the only candidate
Who's truly safe and sane.
He has a very deep regard
For ev'ry son of toil.
And yet he would not be too hard
On friends of Standard Oil.

Flutter, little bird and keep on trying,
By and by you will be flying;
Just look wise — don't say a word,
Keep on fluttering, little bird.

VI
Of all the birds that fly the air,
The jay-bird is the best;
He comes from almost anywhere
Out in the boundless west.
He wants to learn to speculate,
The ticker he would beat;
He strikes a most terrific gait,
And dazzles all the street.
He causes all the stocks to jump
Until there comes a day,
When some wise bird decides to dump
And that's the end of Jay.

Flutter, little bird and keep on trying,
By and by you will be flying;
Though you're long on Steel Preferred,
Keep on fluttering, little-bird.