Uncle, wild with fright, upspringeth,
And the bedclothes from him flingeth.

"Awtsch!" he seizes two more scape-
Graces from his shin and nape.

Crawling, flying, to and fro,
Round the buzzing rascals go.

Wild with fury, Uncle Fritz
Stamps and slashes them to bits.

O be joyful! all gone by
Is the May bug's deviltry.

Uncle Fritz his eyes can close
Once again in sweet repose.

This was the bad boys' fifth trick,
But the sixth will follow quick.

Easter days have come again,
When the pious baker men
Bake all sorts of sugar things,
Plum-cakes, ginger-cakes, and rings.
Max and Maurice feel an ache
In their sweet-tooth for some cake.

But the Baker thoughtfully
Locks his shop, and takes the key.

Who would steal, then, this must do:
Wriggle down the chimney-flue.

Ratsch! There come the boys, my Jiminy!
Black as ravens, down the chimney.

Puff! into a chest they drop,
Full of flour up to the top.

Out they crawl from under cover
Just as white as chalk all over.

But the cracknels, precious treasure,
On a shelf they spy with