The Fairies
By Ron Young Way in over the barrens Where the partridgeberries grow I quat down with my berry can Longside a fruitful row My mother's words came back to me When I had left that morning Of how to cope with little folk Were followed by this warning "Wear your sweater inside out While you're out picking berries 'Cause there've been other solo folk Whisked away by fairies" But my thoughts were elsewhere As I grubbed my way along Picking berries by the handful And whistling a song When I got me bucket full 'Twas warm there on the hill So I took me sweater off And sat down for a spell 'Twas then I heard the voices And saw the little creatures They had paws and claws and chomping jaws And un-angelic features I grabbed me Guernsey and I ran Like a general in rout And hauled that sweater o'er me head With the inside facing out They were near upon me As I pulled me sweater on But soon as it was round me back The devils were all gone I was left alone upon the hill Mother's counsel saved the day The little trick had turned them back And sent them on their way So if some day you feel inclined To go solo, picking berries Wear your sweater inside out Lest you're set upon by fairies Submitted By: DH Editorial
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