The birds knew nothing of all this, and went on singing till the ground was covered with flowers, till the leaves had hidden the brown branches of the trees, and the pathway through the woods was all shade, save for the sunshine that flecked it with light.
THE FIDDLER.
The fiddler played upon his fiddle
All through that leafy June,
He always played hey-diddle-diddle,
And played it out of tune.
And down the hill the children came,
And down the valley too:
I never heard the fiddler's name,
So cannot tell it you.
Hey-diddle-diddle, diddle-diddle-dee.
On—on they came, and when they heard
That tune so swift and sweet,
They did not say a single word,
But shuffled with their feet.
Then round they went, and round and round,
All to that cracked old fiddle,
And still was heard the magic sound,
Hey-diddle-diddle-diddle,
Hey-diddle-diddle, diddle-diddle-dee.