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“’OW can it rain,” the old man said, “with things the way they are? You’ve got to learn off ant and bee, and jackass and galah; And no man never saw it rain, for fifty years at least, Not when the blessed parrakeets are flyin’ to the East!” . . . . .“It’s still as dry as dust,” he said, “I’m feeding all the ewes; The overdraft would sink a ship, but make your mind at rest, It’s all right now, the parrakeets are flyin’ to the West.” |