[Insidiously.
Song, by the Wicked Uncle.
The sun is scorching overhead: the roads are dry and dusty;
And here are berries, ripe and red, refreshing when you're thusty!
They're hanging just within your reach, inviting you to clutch them!
But—as your Uncle—I beseech you won't attempt to touch them?
Tommy and Jane (dutifully).
We'll do whatever you beseech, and not attempt to touch them!
[Annoyance of W. U.
The W. U.