IX.--The Poultry and the Borough.
The Fox ran to London
Starving for his dinner;
There he met the Weasel
Looking even thinner.
The Weasel said to Reynard,
"What shall be our pickin's?"
Said Reynard to the Weasel,
"Rabbits and Spring Chickens."
Then they went a-hunting,
And they did it very thorough,
The Fox in the Poultry
And the Weasel in the Borough.
X.--Wormwood Scrubbs.
Wormwood scrubs, Wormwood scrubs
Windows, walls, and floors,
Pots and pans and pickle-tubs,
Tables, chairs and doors;
Wormwood scrubs the public seats
And the City Halls;
Wormwood scrubs the London streets,
Wormwood scrubs Saint Paul's;
Wormwood scrubs on her hands and knees,
But oh, it's plainly seen,
Though she use a ton of elbow-grease
She'll _never_ get it clean!
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