Now round and round the Mill Wheel turns, But all the Winter through 'Twas tightly bound with icy chains Till Mistress South Wind blew. Then off it started one bright morn To grind the farmer's yellow corn.
Granddaddy Bullfrog seated himself again on the old log to catch a fly for breakfast. All through the cold weather he had slept in the soft mud at the bottom of the Old Duck Pond, but now, that Mr. Merry Sun was shining down so warm and bright from the big blue sky, the old gentleman frog had kicked out his long legs and swam up to sit once more in his accustomed place.
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