Eight sisters, the Misses Gallon,
When the four Peck brothers are out,
In Mr. Bushel’s quarters
Have room to move about.
Thirty-two cousins, the Quarts—ah, me!
What will Mr. Bushel do?
Polite and open, he smiles and says,
“I’m alone, so there’s room for you!”
A jingling crowd—the sixty-four Pints,
To shelter them, no fun!