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| | 108. Bumble-Bees. Specimen Days. Whitman, Walt. 1892. Prose Works |
 | | But for the last two days it has been the great wild bee, the humble-bee, or bumble, as the children call him. |
 | | As I walk, or hobble, from the farm-house down to the creek, I traverse the before-mentiond lane, fenced by old rails, with many splits, splinters, breaks, holes, andc., the choice habitat of those crooning, hairy insects. |
 | | From top to bottom, seeking the sweet juice in the blossoms, it swarms with myriads of these wild bees, whose loud and steady humming makes an undertone to the whole, and to my mood and the hour. |
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