Potato Bug Exterminators

When we do trace out nature’s laws,
And view effects, and muse on cause,
For the future there’s great hope
If we our eyes do only ope.
With joy they will often glisten,
If to truth one doth but listen;
But people often turn deaf ear
And what is useful will not hear.

Now for a minute, lend your luggs,
Our theme, it is potato bugs.
Just buy a pair of young peafowl,
Their voice may be like to screech owl,
But soon as the potato shows
You there will find the peafowl goes,
Up one row and down the other
Like loving sister with brother.

And you will find that down their muggs
Have disappeared potato bugs,
There’s no more need of Paris green
For they will keep potatoes clean.
And faithful they will work all day,
For to them ’tis gay sport and play;
No more you need their voice bewail,
But admire beauties of the tail.