CreepingElmps my apple tree. soon, soon... they are almost ready. what will i do with all of these apples? nana lillian, great grandmother, would sing this song with me as a little girl:
oh my playmate,
come out and play with me
and bring your dollies three
climb up my apple tree
holler down my rain barrel
slide down my cellar door
and we'll be jolly friends
forever evermore.
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