HARVESTERS
(Original ). It's harvest time, it’s harvest tinic, With Helds of golden coni. And the fanner wakens early On a golden harvest morn. Y Y Y Y But down beneath the old oak trees. (I think it seems so dear) -A little red. furred squirrel reaps His harvest of the year. Y Y Y Y Men. reap corn and gather fruit, And think, they're wise to say—*‘Make hay while still the.sun shines'’ “And store for a rainy day.’’ Y Y Y Y But ants and bees and harvest mice, Before the winter, drear, Gather their honey, corn and all. Their harvest of the year. Y Y Y Y But men just scorn the little ant, And make the bee their slave, They grudge the squirrel and the mouse. The little they will save. Y Y Y Y But ants and. bees and harvest mice And little squirrels too. Are the wisest little harvesters, I really think. Don't you? Elsie S. Arnold, Motupiko (13 yrs).
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NEM19410517.2.118.5
Bibliographic details
Nelson Evening Mail, Volume 76, 17 May 1941, Page 8
Word Count
164HARVESTERS Nelson Evening Mail, Volume 76, 17 May 1941, Page 8
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