Part 43 (2/2)

Tails in the way--and some got pinched, too, 'Cause they were too long.

What do you think they had for a fiddle?

An old Banjo with a hole in the middle, A Tambourine made out of a riddle, And that's the end of my song.

_Anonymous_.

MR. FINNEY'S TURNIP

Mr. Finney had a turnip And it grew and it grew, And it grew behind the barn, And that turnip did no harm.

There it grew and it grew Till it could grow no longer; Then his daughter Lizzie picked it And put it in the cellar.

There it lay and it lay Till it began to rot; And his daughter Susie took it And put it in the pot.

And they boiled it and boiled it As long as they were able, And then his daughters took it And put it on the table.

Mr. Finney and his wife They sat down to sup; And they ate and they ate And they ate that turnip up.

_Anonymous_..

THE SUN

The Sun, yon glorious...o...b..of day, Ninety-four million miles away, Will keep revolving in its...o...b..t Till heat and motion reabsorb it.

_J. Davis_.

THE AUTUMN LEAVES

The Autumn leaves are falling, Are falling here and there.

They're falling through the atmosphere And also through the air.

_Anonymous_.

IN THE NIGHT

The night was growing old As she trudged through snow and sleet; Her nose was long and cold, And her shoes were full of feet.

_Anonymous_.

POOR BROTHER

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