SPRING VOICES
'Twas the x-oice of the slug, and in tones indistinct, For his mouth was quite full of pansv I think.. He was trying to sing to his cousin, the snail, " Come, follow, dear fellow, the marks of my tail. " Across the whole bed I have silvered a path, Though humans spread soot there—oh, dear, how I laugh! . For the rain which rejoices my heart every day Has washed all that powdery mess right away!" Then the snail, chewing larkspur, burst forth into rhyme, As, tossing his feelers, he gently beat time. " Oh, the bar-o —the baro —the barometer, The further it drops, the more cheerful we are! " Though a really wet summer may make humans squirm, When the ' hand ' points to-' Rain,' why, then, every worm, Each slug and each snail, every toad. every duck, Consider ' bad weather the best of good luck!" —From Elsie Hayward, Mangatutu-, Otorohahga.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZH19331104.2.181.41.20
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Herald, Volume LXX, Issue 21640, 4 November 1933, Page 4 (Supplement)
Word Count
150SPRING VOICES New Zealand Herald, Volume LXX, Issue 21640, 4 November 1933, Page 4 (Supplement)
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