The Drum


The drum's a very quiet fellow
When he's left alone;
But oh, how he does roar and bellow,
Rattle, snap and groan,
Clatter, spatter, dash and patter,
Rumble, shriek and moan
Whene'er I take my sticks in hand
And beat him soundly for the band.



Theatricals


Now I'll play at being queen,
Hold my head quite stiff and haughty,
Always proud and never naughty,
Sweeping grandly down the green.

Or I'll be a moonlight fairy,
Bobbing lightly on the river,
Dancing where the shadows quiver,
Winged and shining, swift and wary.

If the doctor thinks I'm sick,
He's just silly. _I am not!_