"Because I can't fly, you darned fool!"
Hello, there, what was that—actually a mosquito trying to nip me, the bloodsucker!
Come to think of it, skeeters are about the slickest nuisances we've got.
Have you ever thought what sly coons they are, and how they maneuvre to get their suction pump at work, just as if they had learned army tactics?
Say, ever been down in Jacksonville when the mercury's so high you can't breathe and the skeeters are humming their monotonous anthem? This is the song they sing:
When at night yer gently sleepin',
Sleepin' in your trunnle bed,
An' yer hear a buzzin', creepin',
Creepin' round yer drowsy head;
Such a gentle kind o' buzzin',
Seems like some one's sayin' "Cousin,
Couz-in, couz-zin, couz-z-zin, couz-z-z-zin!"
When ye ain't got no sich kin,
Heads in under quick, an' cheat 'er!
It's a low down female skeeter,
That's a-lyin'
And a tryin'
To break in.
An' there ain't no good o' slidin'
'Neath the bedclothes—she won't leave—
For she knows yer only hidin'
An' yer got ter rise to breathe,
So she'll hover 'round there buzzin'
'Bout that everlastin' "Cousin,
Couz-in, couz-zin, couz-z-zin, couz-z-z-zin!"
She must love that chap a lot.
Heads from under—biff! she's got yer,
An' I told yer that she'd swat yer,
General Jackson!
Say, I'm axin'
Did she swat?
If yer git as hot as tinder,
Crouchin' thar beneath that sheet,
An' she journeys out the winder,
Don't you think you've fooled that skeet,
For she'll hustle back a buzzin',
"Couz-in, couz-zin, couz-z-zin, couz-z-z-zin!"
They'll locate you in the dark—
Biff! She has 'bout all ye owe 'er,
An' ye wonder why ole Noah
Let the first two,
An' the worst two,
In the ark!