THE FROG THAT CHURNED BUTTER
Two bright young frogs from inland bogs
had spent the night in drinking.
The morning broke and they awoke
while still their eyes were blinking./The farmer with pail, came to the vale
and caught them quick as winking,
Before they could gather scattered senses,
or breathe a prayer for past offenses,
The farmer, quick, a fast working man
dumped them into his old milk can.
The can was full, the lid went down,
and soon they started off to town.
The chirping frogs began to quake
and sober up on cold milk shake,
“Say, Old Top,” one said head hung,
“lt’s awful hard to die so young.”
“I’ve no more kicks,
no more I’ll try it,
cause I wasn’t reared on a milk diet.”
“Keep right on kicking – – it’s my plan;
we may yet see outside this can.”
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