There were six little pigs, as I’ve heard people say,
Went out with their mother-pig walking one day,
The sun shone so bright, and the air was so free,
They might all have been happy, as happy could be.
And so they all were, except one little brother,
Who thought he was wiser, poor thing, than his mother,
And was always contriving some nonsense to chatter,
And, when she reproved him, said, “What does it matter?”
“I scarcely need answer” his mother would say,