IV.BEE-HUNTING.
When the sky is red and hazy,
And the winds are warm and lazy,
And the blackbirds chatter crazy,
Hurrah for the forest free!
The Summer days are over,
The bees have sucked the clover,
And the honey-birds call and hover
Over the hollow tree.
And the winds are warm and lazy,
And the blackbirds chatter crazy,
Hurrah for the forest free!
The Summer days are over,
The bees have sucked the clover,
And the honey-birds call and hover
Over the hollow tree.
Catch the bee where you find him,
Follow on straight behind him,
Till home to his nest you've lined him,
Then sing for the match and axe.
Gather bark from the birches,
Moss where the screech-owl perches,
And when the fire smokes and smirches,
Chop till the tree-trunk cracks.
Follow on straight behind him,
Till home to his nest you've lined him,
Then sing for the match and axe.
Gather bark from the birches,
Moss where the screech-owl perches,
And when the fire smokes and smirches,
Chop till the tree-trunk cracks.
Ho, boys! stand from under!
Hear it topple and thunder;
Hear it topple and thunder;
