FOLK SONG
The fox ran up into the mill,
He raised his paws, and danced his fill.
Brave Master Fox, ’tis but your due,
In all the world there’s none like you!
A peck of corn he ground that day,
Which on his back he bore away.
He ate the village chickens brown,
And trod the upland cornfields down.
The fox lies on his shaggy side,