And Poor little Ada Queetie was making a mournful noise,
She was so worried for me,
Then I would speak to her and say: little dear,
Nothing ails you friendy.
Then she would stop and speak a few pretty words to me.
She use to shake my cape, with all her strength and might,
Every time I told her,
They would both put one foot into my hand,
Every time I told them,
They would both scratch my hand, and peck on my cap,