“I could not if I tried; the how I cannot tell,”
Smiled papa. “But,” said little Bell, “Somebody must.”
“My little rose-tree has forgotten its spring dress.
It’s so queer how they change their winter cloak of snow!
Please fix mine over, green and pink, like all the rest.
You can’t? O papa! Why? Somebody does, you know.”
“My birdie died; they had it stuffed; you’d never know
But what it was alive. The trouble is,—ah me!
They quite forgot to put the music in, although
My papa says they can’t. But Somebody did, you see.”