"Alas! Mrs. Broom," sighed the Tongs in his song,
"Oh! is it because I'm so thin, And my legs are so long,—ding-a-dong, ding-a-dong!—
That you don't care about me a pin? Ah! fairest of creatures, when sweeping the room,
Ah! why don't you heed my complaint? Must you needs be so cruel, you beautiful Broom,
Because you are covered with paint? Ding-a-dong, ding-a-dong! You are certainly wrong."
IV.
Mrs. Broom and Miss Shovel together they sang,
"What nonsense you're singing to-day!" Said the Shovel, "I'll certainly hit you a bang!"
Said the Broom, "And I'll sweep you away!" So the coachman drove homeward as fast as he could,
Perceiving their anger with pain; But they put on the kettle, and little by little
They all became happy again. Ding-a-dong, ding-a-dong! There's an end of my song.
THE TABLE AND THE CHAIR.
I.
Said the Table to the Chair,
"You can hardly be aware
How I suffer from the heat
And from chilblains on my feet.
If we took a little walk,
We might have a little talk;
Pray let us take the air,"
Said the Table to the Chair.
II.