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STORY OF A MOSQUITO

[Welland Tribune, 24 September 1897]

Contributed by Grace E. Robinson, fourteen years old daughter of John Robinson, Niagara Falls, Ont., and published in the “Home Queen,” Philadelphia.

STORY OF A MOSQUITO

There once lived a mosquito,
He was an insect small
He was very light and airy,
And possessed a lot of gall.
He was known as a deep drinker,
And deeper biter, too,
And you’d feel a little itching
When he’d finished up on you.

But all men ignored his genius,
And although it was absurd,
They resented all his efforts,
And he really felt injured.
But he said, “I’ll gain my purpose,”
And he bit me on the neck,
And I felt and said I’d like to
Break his naughty little back..

At this he thought he’d better
Beat a pretty swift retreat,
And accordingly he stretched his wings
And soon dislodged his feet.
Bit I caught him while escaping,
(What I did you may surmise),
They buried him at 2 p.m.,
In a Fairview grave he lies.

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