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Under the trees, the farmer said, Smiling and shaking his wise old head: "Cherries are ripe! but then, you know, There's the grass to cut and the corn to hoe; We can gather the cherries any day, But when the sun shines we must make our hay; To-night, when the work has all been done, We'll muster the boys, for fruit and fun." Up on the tree a robin said, Perking and cocking his saucy head, "Cherries are ripe! and so to-day We'll gather them while you make the hay; For we are the boys with no corn to hoe, No cows to milk, and no grass to mow." At night the farmer said: "Here's a trick These roguish robins have had their pick." |