We crowed as doth the cock crow,
When people passed that road,
Cried “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”
They thought the cock had crowed.
The chests that lay in the court
We papered and made so clean,
And dwelt therein together—
We thought them fit for a queen.
Oft came our neighbour’s old cat,
With us an hour to spend;
We made her curtseys and bows,
And compliments without end.
There was one little Jim,
’Tis reported of him,
And must be to his lasting disgrace—
That he never was seen
With his hands at all clean,
Nor yet ever clean was his face.
His friends were much hurt
To see so much dirt,
And often they made him quite clean;
But all was in vain,
He was dirty again,
And not at all fit to be seen.
When to wash he was sent,
He reluctantly went
With water to splash himself o’er;
But he seldom was seen
To have washed himself clean,
And often looked worse than before.