Mother Hubbard. You pesky young one! He’ll eat up Every bit of food that’s there!
Willie. Oh, no, he won’t, because, you see, The cupboard was quite bare.
Mother Goose. Why don’t you feed him up, yourself, So he wouldn’t want to steal?
Mother Hubbard. Why, you can’t fill a hound dog up, Mother Goose, ’Twould cost fifty dollars a meal.
Mother Goose. Then buy a strong chain and hitch him up If you can’t teach him to mind.
Mother Hubbard. There! Nobody loves my poor old dog! I think you are very unkind.
Enter Baby Bunting.
Baby Bunting. I loves old Wover. Him and me Togedder went a-hunting.
Mother Hubbard. He’s a nice old doggie, isn’t he? And you’re a nice Baby Bunting.
Georgie. What did you hunt for, Baby B.?