All who mope in the old beech-trees;
How droll to see the owl,
As I make him wink and growl,
When his sleepy, sleepy head I tease!
And I waken up the bat,
Who flies off with a scream,
For he thinks that I’m the cat
Pouncing on him in his dream.
Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha!
“Through all the summer long