Swat That Fly NOW

New Zealand Journal of Agriculture, Volume 60, Issue 1, 15 January 1940, Page 74

Swat That Fly NOW

Consider now the little fly! Come, listen, and I’ll tell you why. He has his birth in the manure, Crawls forth and loiters in the sewer; And, smeared with deadly germs, He leaves his brother maggot-worms, Unfurls his dainty wings of silk And dumps his microbes in the milk: Where their huge numbers mount and mount, Increasing ' the bacterial count, Until they reach the food supply Some mother gives her “baby-bye.” The fly comes gaily unto us, His feet all gummed with poison pus; And, singing clear his song so sweet, Alights and cleans them on the meat. He is not proud and oft will stoop To wash his tootsies in the soup. Oh! do not call him indolent! He calls that summer-day mis-spent In which he’s failed to load the breeze With the live germs of some disease; And if he finds them not, though hurt, He’ll be content with just plain dirt. The early fly’s the one to swat; It comes before the weather’s hot, And sits around and files its legs And lays at least ten million eggs, And every egg will bring a fly to Drive us crazy by-and-bye. Oh, every fly that skips our swatters Will have five million sons and daughters, And countless first and second cousins, Nephews and nieces, scores of 1 dozens;" And thus it goes, an endless chain, And all our swatting is in vain Unless we do that swatting soon, In Springtime and in early December, Lo, men and women, let us rise, Roll up your sleeves, and swat the flies! —Anon.