OH, wonder I much what this book contains!
Can Insects talk, and do they have brains?
I always thought that these queer little things
Were made up entirely of legs, wings, and stings.
A Black-Beetle teach me! And what, Bumble-Bee,
In all the wide world can you say unto me?
And surely a Caterpillar never has read?
With green leaves for books, he would eat them instead;
While neither a Moth nor a Spider could tell
How a pen should be held, or correctly could spell.
And as for poor Snailey,—it's more than absurd,
He never could read a one-syllable word!
But I've heard of the School Board, and now it's appalling
To think that a Moth or a Snail may be calling
And telling me too, as their little eyes glisten,
Their funny wee lessons, if only I'll listen.
* * * * * *
Yes! they talk in a language that all is their own,
And here into English you'll find it has grown;
Where pictures will shew, and the rhymes they will say,
How Insects can work, talk, and laugh, and be gay.
