“Well, is that Zebedee?” says she again.
“Noo, that ain’t.” And then That laughed, and twirled That’s tail until you could hardly see That.
“Take time, woman! The next guess AND YOU ARE MINE!” And That stretched out That’s black hands at her.
Well, she moved back a step or two, and she looked at that little black thing, and then she laughed out, and says she, pointing her finger at it,
“Nimmy, nimmy not,
Your name is Tom Tit Tot.”
When that black impet heard her, That shriveled right up, and away That flew and was never heard of again.
And the girl lived happily ever after, and the king never again asked her to do any more spinning.