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An' playin' wiv us -- Don't you mind,
Old Mister Tree? -- an' purty near
She scolded us the hardest kind
Fer quar'llin' 'bout you thataway,
An' say _she'll_ find -- ef we'll keep still --
Whose tree you air _fer shore_, she say,
An' settle it _fer good_, she will!
An' pat the Old Tree, an' says she, --
"Whose air you, Tree? " an' nen let on
Like she's a-list'nin' to the Tree, --
An' nen she say, "It's settled, -- 'cause
The Old Tree says he's _all_ our tree --
His _trunk_ belongs to bofe your Pas,
But _shade_ belongs to you an' me. "
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