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Mary had a little turkey,
With feathers bronze and black,
And when she shooed it from the door,
It was sure to wander back.
It followed her about the yard,
And gobble-gobbled at er;
The more she fed, the more it ate,
And plumper grew and fatter.
And when the turkey got as fat
And lazy as a sinner
Mary killed and roasted it
For her Thanksgiving dinner. |