She has a little funny house
Beside a little stream;
It really, truly seems to me
It’s half a house and half a tree,
Like something in a dream.
She has a pointy, pokey nose,
A pokey, pointy chin;
Her little door is open wide—
I do not dare to peep inside,
Lest she should be within;
Lest she should smile and nod and say,
“Good-day, my pretty daughter,”
And then unhook her wicked broom
And chase me quickly from the room
And push me in the water.
[Illustration: Silhouette illustration of a small, rustic cottage with
bare branches growing from its roof and laundry hanging on a line, with
a hunched figure walking across a rope bridge toward it over a stream.]