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The Jungle Book, a novel by Rudyard Kipling |
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Road-Song of the Bandar-Log |
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_ Here we go in a flung festoon, Half-way up to the jealous moon! Don't you envy our pranceful bands? Don't you wish you had extra hands? Wouldn't you like if your tails were--so-- Curved in the shape of a Cupid's bow? Now you're angry, but--never mind, Brother, thy tail hangs down behind! Here we sit in a branchy row, All the talk we ever have heard Now we are talking just like men! Then join our leaping lines that scumfish through the pines, |