Cherries by F. E. Weatherley

Under the tree the farmer said,
Smiling and shaking his wise old head:
“Cherries are ripe! but then, you know,
There’s the grass to cut and the corn to hoe;
We can gather the cherries any day,
But when the sun shines we must make our hay;
To-night, when the work has all been done,
We’ll muster the boys, for fruit and fun.”

Up on the tree a robin said,
Perking and cocking his saucy head,
“Cherries are ripe! and so to-day
We’ll gather them while you make the hay;
For we are the boys with no corn to hoe,
No cows to milk, and no grass to mow.”
At night the farmer said; “Here’s a trick!
These roguish robins have had their pick.”

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