THE CULPRITS

Evening Star, Issue 22004, 13 April 1935, Page 5

THE CULPRITS

When the plums are turning purple, And the corn is stacked in sheaves; When the pears hang ripe and russet, Hid among the quivering leaves; When the thistle bloom is over, And the dandelion’s dead; When Billy—very busy— Gomes to tidy every bed; There's someone waiting—seems to me— There’s someone waiting—certainly— To pluck the pears, so ripe and brown; To All the air with thistledown ; To shake the barley from the sheaves, And strew the tidy beds with leaves; To carry Billy’s hat afar, To where the stream and rushes are; To toss it in—and hold it there— To ruffle Billy’s curly hair. Who is the culprit? Who is he? “ North, south, east, west—the winds are we.”