Am I a little snow-white lamb,
A robin, or a bluebird,
A cherry, peach, or strawberry?--
Pray tell me, folks, have _you_ heard?
They call me every sort of thing;
Now is it not a pity?--
Am I a flower, am I a star,
Or just a little kitty?
I thought I'd learned, the other day,
When brought by sister Carry
Down stairs into the sitting-room
To "smile for Uncle Harry."
I heard him, as they took me in,
Say, "Pshaw! she's not worth two cents."
And then, "Come, Carry, bring her here;
Let's see the little _nuisance_."
But all my aunts, and grandmamma,
They told him he was "horrid";
Then kissed my nose, my eyes, and toes,
My hands, my cheeks, my forehead.
Oh dear! I don't know _what_ I am
I feel so puzzled. Maybe
I'd best believe what mamma says--
I'm just her "precious baby."