“They’re scared of rats and scared of mice

And often scared of things quite nice,

They’re scared at morning, night and noon,

They’re scared of faces in the moon,

Oh tell me, what would people do,

If Little Dwarf Courage were scarey too?”

They ran along through the woods and some one was singing,

“Umbrellas to lend, but none to sell,

Umbrellas to mend, come ring my bell.”

The rain was falling, “patter, patter, patter,” and they surely needed an umbrella.