PETER PATTER told them to me,All the little rimes,Whispered them among the bushesHalf a hundred times.Peter lives upon a mountainPretty near the sun,Knows the bears and birds and rabbitsNearly every one;Has a home among the alders,Bed of cedar bark,Walks alone beneath the pine treesEven when it’s dark.Squirrels tell him everythingThat happens in the trees,Cricket in the gander-grassSings of all he sees;Rimes from bats and...
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