"[FIDDLE]-DIDDLE-DEE!"
Little Davie ran through the garden,—a great slice of bread and butter in one hand, and his spelling-book in the other. He was going to study his lesson for to-morrow.
You could not imagine a prettier spot than Davie's "study," as he [called] it. It was under a great oak-tree, that stood at the edge of a small wood. The little boy sat down on one of the roots and opened his book.
"But first," thought he, "I'll finish my bread and butter."
So he let his book drop, and, as he ate, he began to sing a little song with which his mother sometimes put the baby to sleep. This is the way the song began:
"I bought a bird, and my bird pleased me;
I tied my bird behind a tree;
Bird said——"
"Fiddle-diddle-dee!" sang something, or somebody, behind the oak. Davie looked a little frightened, for that was just what he was about to sing in his song. But he jumped up and ran around to the other side of the tree. And there was a little brown wren, and it had a little golden thread around its neck, and the thread was tied to a root of the big tree.