“_Hark, the bee winds its small but mellow horn._”
All roun’ de flowers, you pwitty fly,
All roun’ de flowers an’ me,
You sing so loud! Dess reason why—
You’s happy as tan be.
Bet I tan tatch you if I try.
Zere! now I’s dot you, see!
Boo-hoo! Do ’way, you udly fly!
What for you bited me?