User:Folderon swifteye the squirrel

‘Twas winter one summer an’ spring was in bloom, The turnips were twittering gaily As I cleaned out my humble room, Three times I do it, twice daily! When a mole flew in by my window, He bid me good night and day too. His eyes were yellow, his nose was green and his tail was pinkyblue. That mole gave me a very odd stare, Which I put in me pocket for later, He then asked me if I was a hare, Or a rascally impersonator? I replied to him, in accent grim, ‘Good sir, I’m not a him not a her, I’m a him that’s a hare not a her that’s a him, And the least is as large as the greater!’ ‘If you’re a hare that’s a him,’ he quoth, As he left my room with a leap, ‘When I return this leap, you’ll be, Not a hare or a him, but a-sleep!

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