The man who takes my photograph,
Tries very hard to make me laugh-
The naughty man! he makes me sad.
He taps his box, and says: "My dear,
"I've got a little bird in here!"
Oh, such a fib is awful bad!
He says, if I look nice and gay,
The little bird will come my way
In less than half-a-minute.
I know quite well, although he knocks
And whistles at his likeness box,
There's not a dicky in it.
Below a cloth he hides his head-
(He's sorry for the things he's said,
The naughty man! to make me laugh.)
But when he's feeling good again,
He comes all smiling from his den,
And squirts a funny ball, and then-
Why, then he's got my photograph!
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