XIV.—HOW THE CORN GREW.
There was a field that waiting lay,
All hard and brown and bare;
There was a thrifty farmer came
And fenced it in with care.
Then came a plowman with his plow;
From early until late,
Across the field and back again,
He plowed the furrows straight.
The harrow then was brought to make
The ground more soft and loose;
And soon the farmer said with joy,
“My field is fit for use.”
For many days the farmer then
Was working with his hoe;
And little Johnny brought the corn
And dropped the kernels—so!
And there they lay, until awaked
By tapping rains that fell,
Then pushed their green plumes up to greet
The sun they loved so well.
Then flocks and flocks of hungry crows
Came down the corn to taste;
But ba-ang!—went the farmer’s gun
And off they flew in haste.
Then grew and grew the corn, until,
When autumn days had come,
With sickles keen they cut it down,
And sang the “Harvest Home.”
HOW THE CORN GREW.
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